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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34281-8.txt b/34281-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8181c46 --- /dev/null +++ b/34281-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9130 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sheriff of Badger, by George B. Pattullo + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sheriff of Badger + A Tale of the Southwest Borderland + +Author: George B. Pattullo + +Release Date: November 11, 2010 [EBook #34281] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHERIFF OF BADGER *** + + + + +Produced by Roberta Staehlin, David Garcia, Mary Meehan +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + The SHERIFF OF BADGER + + _A TALE OF THE SOUTHWEST BORDERLAND_ + + BY GEORGE PATTULLO + + ILLUSTRATED + + + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + NEW YORK AND LONDON: MCMXII + + COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + + Copyright, 1909, 1911, by The Curtis Publishing Company + Copyright, 1911, 1912, by Street and Smith + Copyright, 1910, by the Pearson Publishing Company + _Published June, 1912_ + Printed in the United States of America + + Acknowledgments are due to _The Saturday Evening + Post_, _Pearson's Magazine_ and _The Popular Magazine_ + for permission to use some of the material in this book. + + + TO + A. W. BALLANTYNE + + +[Illustration: The Sheriff of Badger] + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I LAFE JOHNSON ARRIVES AT LAZY L RANCH + +II CERTAIN COMPLICATIONS RESULT + +III CONCERNING A BABY'S WAIL + +IV OUT OF A JOB + +V AN INCIPIENT LOVE AFFAIR + +VI DISCOMFITURE OF A GUNFIGHTER + +VII JOHNSON IS ELECTED SHERIFF OF BADGER + +VIII A FEUD AND WHAT CAME OF IT + +IX AN INQUEST AND A SURPRISE + +X A JOURNEY TO SATAN'S KINGDOM + +XI A WAITRESS TO THE RESCUE + +XII THE SHERIFF SETTLES A CONJUGAL DISPUTE + +XIII AND HETTY COMES TO BADGER TO LIVE + +XIV THE SHERIFF ENSNARED + +XV HOW HE WON A WIFE + +XVI THE GUNFIGHTER RETURNS AND DELAYS WEDDING + +XVII JOHNSON MEETS A FRIEND OF HETTY'S + +XVIII A SACRIFICE AND ITS PUNISHMENT + +XIX BUFFALO JIM GIVES WISE COUNSEL + +XX THE SHERIFF PURGES TOWN OF BADGER + +XXI A FIGHT IN THE DARK + +XXII CAPTURE OF MOFFATT, THE GUNMAN + +XXIII THE WEDDING + +XXIV THE BRIDE IS LOST + +XXV JOHNSON BECOMES BOSS OF THE ANVIL + +XXVI ENTERS TROUBLE + +XXVII A CLEVER WOMAN AND A MISUNDERSTANDING + +XXVIII RECONCILIATION--MRS. VINING EXPERIENCES A CHANGE OF HEART + +XXIX LAFE HELPS A DESERTER + +XXX AND DISCOVERS HETTY'S BROTHER + +XXXI GREAT EXPECTATIONS IN JOHNSON FAMILY + +XXXII BIRTH OF LAFE JOHNSON, JR. + +XXXIII JOHNSON ONCE MORE IN ROLE OF SHERIFF + +XXXIV HE ARRESTS A SUSPECT + +XXXV THE DEATH DICE + +XXXVI RESPONSIBILITY SITS HEAVILY ON LAFE + +XXXVII BUT THE BOSS AGAIN PROVES HIS METTLE + +XXXVIII HOW A MOFFATT HENCHMAN WAS OUSTED + +XXXIX NEWS FROM BUFFALO JIM + +XL HE ARRIVES TO VISIT THE JOHNSONS + +XLI A NIGHT RIDE AND DEATH OF BUFFALO JIM + +XLII MIDDLE LIFE + +XLIII MOFFATT ONCE MORE + +XLIV THE DUEL IN THE MALPAIS + +XLV THE END + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +The Sheriff of Badger + +"She and Johnson rode together every day" + +"As Lafe was coming from dinner ... a Mexican handed him a letter" + +"So now Lafe, Jr., flattened out in his fissure in equal danger with his +father" + + + + +THE SHERIFF OF BADGER + + + + +CHAPTER I + +LAFE JOHNSON ARRIVES AT THE LAZY L RANCH + + +It may come as a shock to many to learn that we have in cowland a +considerable number of full-blooded men who have never made it a +practice to step outside the door of a morning and shoot a +fellow-citizen before breakfast. This is true; vital statistics and +fiction to the contrary, notwithstanding. They are well-grown, +two-fisted men, also, and work very hard seven days in the week, and +whenever they go to town they get drunk. But in the main they are +law-abiding, and steal calves only for their employers. + +There was Lafe Johnson. This story has him for its central figure. + +"It's right queer about men," Lafe used to say, when in a reflective +mood. "A feller will knock in a friend what he'd be like to do himself. +And he'll act mean one day so he's sure ashamed of it the next. Yes, +sir; the best of 'em will. It all depends on how a man feels, I reckon, +and what shape his stomach's in. No man ain't always going to do the +right thing, and I've never met a feller yet who was all bad. What's +more, nobody thinks he's bad, or I expect he wouldn't be. Don't you +reckon? Why, a man'll be plucky one day and the next morning he'd cry if +a jackrabbit was to slap him in the face." + +Lafe started man's estate as a cowboy. What his antecedents were I don't +know and don't care, nor did anybody else in our country. We have so +many more important matters to engage us. Punching cattle happened to be +his profession. In every other respect Lafe was a normal individual--no +better than you or I, and assuredly no worse. Some thought he was worse, +and among them a Mrs. Tracey--or she pretended to--who thought that and +a few other things besides. That was why Mrs. Floyd, just before Johnson +departed the ranch, insisted that he accompany her to the Tracey home in +Rowdy Caņon. + +"I'll tell her to her face what I think," she said. + +Lafe tried to pacify her. + +"I ain't much of a fighter, ma'am," he said. "You'd better go alone and +have it out. Miz Tracey, she's got me scared off the map right now." + +"You'll come, too!" Mrs. Floyd assured him, pulling on her gauntlets. + +This is what Mrs. Floyd said, sitting her horse in front of the Tracey +gate, her erstwhile friend being on the veranda: "I've heard the +stories you've been spreading about me, Tracey!" + +"Stories? Gracious, what's got into you, Sally? I never mentioned your +name! Do you reckon I've got nothing better to talk about?" + +"Don't lie," Mrs. Floyd continued, her voice rising. "You know what I +mean. And I've got Mr. Johnson with me to hear it, too. You keep your +mouth shut about me--do you hear? If you don't, I'll shut it for you. +I'm right proud and glad to know Lafe Johnson--he's a friend of my +husband, too--and--and--" + +She had much more to impart, having rehearsed it mentally on the way +over in order to be effective, but here rage and tears choked speech. +Perhaps it was as well; finical people may even find something to +deplore in what Mrs. Floyd did say. Mrs. Tracey answered, tucking her +chin into her neck, that she was very, very glad to hear it, but, for +herself, she must confess complete inability to discover any grounds for +pride in Mr. Johnson's acquaintance. Upon which she slammed the door. + +"Now, I wonder if that lady meant something?" Lafe murmured gently. + +That was forever the way. People were never indifferent to Johnson. They +either swore by him or execrated his name, which ought to be held to his +credit. A man's virtues must be negative if he make no enemies. + +Here is the story of Lafe's advent in our part of the world--merely the +facts, and not the tale Mrs. Tracey spread. No man will blame him, and +let those of her sex judge Mrs. Floyd who have never erred a hair's +breadth. We will then consider the jury. + +The Lazy L outfit was loading a train with cattle--ones and twos, graded +stuff and some bulls--when Johnson first appeared. He arrived on a +freight, presumably. It is my belief he was heading back for Texas on +the bumpers of an eastbound that passed. It stopped for water and he +dropped off when he perceived us shipping. + +Forty yearlings had been manhandled and heaved into a car, and one old +bull was added which would eventually visit eastern parts in tins. +Perhaps the range monarch had some suspicion of this, for he turned +round to walk out. They yelled, and prodded at his neck and ribs with +poles, but the bull shook his head in settled determination and started +down the chute. If he gained the crowding pen, where more yearlings and +another bull waited, there would be a fight and a lot of mussing and +long delay. The boss danced up and down, swearing like a moss-trooper. + +"Bar the chute! Bar the chute!" he yelled from the top of the corral +fence. + +Ere the poles could be thrust in, a seedy individual stepped down +directly in front of the giant Hereford and began to lash him furiously +over the face with a rope. + +"Come out of there! You'll get killed. Come out!" cried the boss. + +The bull bellowed with rage, but the sting of the blows forced his head +up. Blood trickled down his nose, and there were livid wales above the +eyes. One lurch forward and this man would be crushed, but the rope cut +fiercely and without pause, and the bull began to back. The stranger did +not let up, but drove him into the car with savage recklessness. + +"What the Sam Hill are you, anyhow?" said the boss, straddling the +fence. "A circus or a town cowboy?" + +Now, a "town cowboy" is a term of reproach among us, signifying a young +man who never did range work, but wears the clothes and does trick +roping for the delectation of visitors. Ultimately he joins a Wild West +show and instructs the rising generation. + +"I reckon you're cleverer than me," Johnson said, "but you ain't awake +to me yet. Turn over. You're on your back." + +Without concerning himself further about the boss, he clambered out on +to the platform and threw the borrowed rope to Reb. We saw that he was +tall and big of bone, and his shoulders had an indolent droop. Although +he could not have been over twenty-five, his hair was plentifully +flecked with gray. + +Presently Buffalo Jim, who was keeping tally of the cattle going through +the chute, lost count and admitted frankly that he could not say whether +there were thirty-seven or forty in the car. He tried to appear grave in +confessing this, but was unable to repress a snigger. Everything would +have gone smoothly, he contended, had he not chanced to recall a story +Uncle Hi Millet had told him the previous night. + +"If that feller could count up to fifty," said Johnson, in an aside to +the buyer, "he would be back in Texas still, a-teaching school." + +"Hello, Lafe!" the other exclaimed. "Where did you drop from? Want a +job? Seventy a month?" + +"Eighty." + +"No, sir; seventy." + +"Eighty. I got a lot of unfinished business down the line unless." + +"Have it your own way. Eighty it is. Fly at it." + +Johnson replaced Buffalo Jim and sat on a board between two posts, +dangling his legs, staring at everything but the plunging steers. Yet he +never once failed to tally. + +The boss's wife rode up to the corrals. With her was Mrs. Tracey. + +"Who's them there ladies?" Lafe whispered to a cowboy who wielded a +prodpole. + +"That pretty one's Miz Floyd. I cain't rightly see the other. Oh, yes. +Shore. She's a widow woman--owns a flock of mines way up in them +mountains." + +"The pretty one's the one I meant," said Lafe. + +We sealed the door of the last car, and a brakeman waved to the engineer +to pull forward. The buyer grabbed Lafe by the shoulder and jabbered +instructions into his ear. Then he caught the caboose rail as it sped +by, and Johnson informed the amazed Floyd that he had been commissioned +to receive the other herds when gathered. + +"And he don't even know your name? Oh, he does? All the same, that's +sure rushing it. Glad to do business with you, anyhow. I want you to be +acquainted with my wife. Shake hands with Mr. Johnson, Sally." + +Mrs. Floyd came down the platform, striding like a man. She was wearing +a divided skirt, very useful-looking spurs on her high-heeled boots, and +a man's felt hat. All the cowboys stopped work to eye her. She was only +twenty-two and had an amazingly trim figure. With that meaningless smile +of polite welcome with which a woman greets her husband's friends, Mrs. +Floyd drew off a glove to give Johnson her hand. + +"Lafe Johnson! Lafe!" she squealed. And with that she was pumping the +big fellow's arm up and down, her cheeks red with excitement. + +"Why, it's li'l Sally!" + +"I take it you two know each other," said her husband mildly. + +"Do we? Why, we were raised together, Tom. Lafe was one of my best +beaux. Weren't you, Lafe?" + +"Ain't got over it yet," said Lafe. + +The widow put in a reminder that she was on earth by a furtive pull at +Mrs. Floyd's sleeve. Lafe said, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am," very +correctly, and shook hands. After the hand shake he looked at Mrs. +Tracey again, with a new interest. The boss shouted for his horse. He +could never be idle a minute. + +"Let's go home. Reb, give Johnson your horse and double up with one of +the boys. I'm sure getting hungry." + +Laughing and indulging in horse-play, the Lazy L men set out. Mrs. +Tracey paired off with Floyd and took especial pains to lead him well in +advance. There would have been nothing in this maneuver but for her +manner of executing it. + +"What does she mean by that?" said Sally hotly. + +"Who? What?" + +"The way she went off there. Didn't you see her? You'd think we--oh, I +don't know how to say it." + +"I reckon this lady knows her way about, ma'am?" + +"She's awfully nice, Lafe. Really she is. When we're alone, I love her. +But sometimes, when men are around--well, you saw how she acted." + +"Sure," said Lafe, in his soft bass, and he grinned at her. "It ain't +what she does, but it's what she don't do. That smile she smothers, +now--" + +"Have you noticed that, too? Tom did, very first thing. He doesn't like +her." + +Johnson asked her of her marriage and how it had come about. It was five +years since he had seen her, wasn't it? Mrs. Floyd said four, and he +murmured that it seemed longer. She laughed, but was pleased, +nevertheless. As they rode, she studied him without disguise, and +remarked that the gray in his hair was an improvement. He was dressed +very poorly, and his boots were down at the heel and worn through the +soles, but she did not appear to notice their plight and he suffered no +confusion therefrom. Twice she detected him looking from her to Tom, +loping in the van. + +"What're you thinking about?" she said. + +"Nothing much. Ideas don't get much of a hold on me. There ain't nothing +to grip." + +"I know--I can see it in your face. It's mean of you, Lafe, just because +he's forty and--and--well, he's the truest and best--" + +"Hold on there. Pull up!" He was chuckling. Abruptly sober: "Sure, I'll +bet he's got a kind heart." + +She glared at him for an instant. Then they both exploded into laughter +and she shook her horse into a gallop. + +"You're just the same old Lafe. Nothing'll ever sober you," she called +over her shoulder. "Remember--I'm a married woman, Lafe Johnson." + +"I won't forget it if you don't, ma'am," he said amiably, upon which she +gave him a fearfully stern look and giggled. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CERTAIN COMPLICATIONS RESULT + + +Many authorities assert that a man's looks count for nothing in the +pursuit of women and the game of love. And they seem to have the rights +of the matter. Citations can be had in plenty. Take the case of the Lazy +L boss. Floyd was not unlike an amiable gorilla. Well over the two-score +mark in years, he rambled somewhat in his shape. In the first place, his +shoulders were too broad for his height, and his jaw and mouth were +entirely too wide. Moreover, his legs had the liveliest scorn one for +the other. The boss always compelled interest and respect, it is true; +but so does a bulldog. Yet he owned the Lazy L and all its herds; he had +the prettiest wife in the country, and there were those who said she +adored him; and he had a son and heir, two years old. All of which set +Lafe to marveling over the inscrutable contrivings of Providence. + +It was seven miles from the shipping pens to the ranch, another seven to +the Tracey home. Consequently the widow stayed to supper, though it +meant enduring Floyd's cold scrutiny for an hour of chat. The boss was +civil to her in a heavy, formal way, bestowing sidelong looks when he +was persuaded she could not see him. However, there was a full moon and +it would fall to Johnson to take her home. She was a persevering woman. + +Floyd presented himself to his wife on the second day and said, in his +usual blunt style: "Sally, better be decent to that fellow Johnson. Will +you?" + +"Why, sure, Tom. What's got into your head now?" + +"Some of this last bunch of cattle are awful poor stuff. Where the +tarnation Reb picked up these brindles and swaybacks and old, hipped +long-horns beats me. Lafe will cut 'em all back. He'll just go through +that herd like a prairie fire. So keep him in a good humor, Sally, will +you? Is it a go?" + +"Tom, you're dreadful. Do you think I'll help you cheat Mr. Horne by +flirting with Lafe? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Floyd." + +"Who asked you to flirt? I've seen you mighty handy with them eyes of +yours on other fellows, without being asked," he said good-humoredly. + +"Oh, what a lie, Tom! I won't. Remember, I won't." + +But, being a good wife, she did. + +Autumn was rattling the dry bones of summer, and she and Johnson rode +together every day. A keen southwest wind swirled the dead grass and +leaves about their horses' feet. He would listen to her chatter by the +hour, watching the pink grow in her cheeks. Lafe was very good-humored, +indeed. With the improvement in his circumstances had come a marked +improvement in appearance. He had imported what is known as a +"hand-me-down" suit at the cost of a week's pay, and he took a +pardonable pride in it, for the reason that the tailors expressly stated +in their advertising that they catered only to gentlemen of refined +tastes. Also, he had done some trafficking with Buffalo Jim, thereby +obtaining a pair of whole boots. + +[Illustration: "She and Johnson rode together every day."] + +Often he spent hours with the baby Tommy, fashioning him ridiculous +playthings, and tumbling on the ground for the child's delectation. And +Sally gloated over Mrs. Tracey, who scarcely saw Lafe at all. Mrs. Floyd +looked not an hour over eighteen. + +Twice she brought Johnson up short. + +"Now, Lafe, none of that. I won't listen." + +Let us disregard the fruits of our experience and believe that Mrs. +Floyd did not perceive what was growing in Johnson during those two +weeks of companionship, although we may be convinced that even a stupid +woman can sense it a mile off; and Mrs. Floyd was clever. But she would +not give ear to her own doubts. + +"That widow won't get him, anyhow," she said, standing in front of a +mirror. She could not resist giving her hips an approving pat, and she +smiled. + +One evening, as they sat on the veranda, Lafe put up a forefinger +languidly and touched a stray curl. She dashed his hand away. + +"It's just as black and silky as ever," he said. + +"Perhaps. But you keep your hands off! Do you hear?" Then she added: +"There's no gray in it, anyhow." + +Just for whom this shaft was meant will ever remain a profound mystery. +Both Lafe and Mrs. Tracey had gray in their hair. That night Sally was +demonstrative with Floyd, hanging over the back of his chair with her +hands locked under his chin and her face snuggling against the top of +his head. The boss blew clouds of smoke and seemed gently amused. These +manifestations of devotion had become frequent of late, but it should +not be hastily inferred that because Lafe was a spectator they were done +for his benefit. That could not be, because he took them with such +extraordinary fortitude. If he was harassed, Johnson stifled all +expression of his condition grandly. + +Floyd was much away from home. Sometimes he was in the south, buying +stock cattle. Again, he went north and east to sell of his herds. Sally +told Lafe that he left her alone too much. Lafe coughed and said +something unintelligible, and lighted a cigarette. + +"What did you say?" she asked sharply. + +"When a feller is getting old and ain't got long to live--" + +"You quit that kind of talk right now. I won't stand for it." + +It was the first time she had been really angry at any of his frequent +sallies concerning Floyd, and it put them at once on a different +footing. The safe frankness of raillery was gone. + +Alas, that Lafe could draw the line so sharply between business and the +courtesies of leisure hours. A trail herd arrived. They plied Johnson +with strong drink and worked in relays to get him drunk. He partook +sociably, but without noticeable impairment of his faculties, and he cut +the herd ruthlessly to a remnant. The boss grew dizzy figuring his +losses and departed from the roundup, unable to endure the spectacle +without interference, leaving instructions to be notified when the fool +was done. + +"I'm working for Horne," said Lafe cheerfully. "Did you think I couldn't +tell a two-year-old from a three, Floyd? Those boys tried to run a bunch +by me." + +Mrs. Tracey drove over to the Floyd headquarters twice, on matters +relating to a recipe for a cake and certain patterns, and then asked her +friend and Mr. Johnson to dinner. She invited Floyd, too, but it was +done so perfunctorily that Sally felt the stab and was furious. However, +she went. The widow was as sleek as a kitten and wore such a secretive +air that Mrs. Floyd had much ado to keep her temper during the meal. +Afterward, Mrs. Tracey excused herself for a few minutes on some pretext +and left them alone in the sitting-room. When she had to pass through on +her way upstairs, she hurried as though intruding, and said: "Oh, I beg +your pardon!" + +"The cat!" Mrs. Floyd cried, gritting her teeth. + +"There wasn't no call for her to say that?" + +"Of course there wasn't, booby. That doesn't make it any better. It +makes it worse." + +Two days later: "Now guess what?" + +"I done quit guessing," Johnson answered. + +"That Tracey woman tried to tell me this morning that my Tom was too +friendly with one of those Baptismo girls." + +"Pshaw!" said Lafe. "Pshaw! What does she want to go and tell them lies +for? What good does it do?" + +"You don't see?" + +"I reckon I'm dull." + +"Oh, you great baby!" Mrs. Floyd gurgled delightedly. + +This display of malice disturbed Lafe greatly. Such weapons were beyond +his knowledge and capacity, and he felt hotly uncomfortable when Sally +intimated that they might expect Mrs. Tracey to be talking of them +next--if, indeed, she had not done so already. She was for going to +Rowdy Caņon without delay to bestow a tongue-lashing on the widow. + +"What's the use?" the cowboy said. "Her talk can't hurt nobody. They all +know you." + +"Some people will believe her." + +"Some people will do anything. Never bother with poor trash, Sally. It +don't matter what that kind thinks. Leave her be. What can you expect +from a pig but a grunt?" + +That was no way to speak of a lady, but Mrs. Floyd jumped from her chair +and cried "Goody!", greatly consoled. Just before the evening meal, she +put on a pink dress for which Lafe had professed admiration, and parted +her hair in the middle. Had there been a woman within seven miles, she +would not have done this, but Lafe liked it that way. So also did her +husband, for that matter. + +"As if I'd get jealous of Tom!" she sniffed. "Huh! you won't get Lafe +that way, my lady." + +I have said that they rode together every day. Sometimes Floyd watched +the two meditatively. His instructions were being carried out--no doubt +of that--and Johnson was good-natured. But the boss was a silent man and +opposed no objection. As for Sally, if she gave it a thought at all, she +probably found justification in a dozen reasons a woman would +appreciate, which are beyond male ken. + +Lafe helped her down from her horse late one afternoon, though she +needed no help. And he held her for just the fraction of a second. She +stiffened with an injured air, but she did not reprove him. On another +occasion--they were on the veranda and it was growing to dusk--after +staring helplessly at her for a full quarter of an hour, while she +purposely said as little as possible and toyed with the lace of her +handkerchief, her head on one side that he might get the benefit of her +profile--suddenly he seized her in his arms and tried to kiss her. He +did, in fact, obtain the merest peck at the tip of her ear. + +"You darn fool!" she said, tearing loose. + +Then she saw his face, and went hastily indoors and huddled in a chair +in a dark corner. She sat there until called to supper, striving to fix +recent happenings in proper sequence. + +After putting the baby to bed, she beckoned Lafe on to the veranda. Her +manner was hurried. + +"Lafe, you've got to go away. You've got to go to-morrow." + +"Why? I can't, Sally. There's three thousand more--" + +"You must! You must! Can't you see? You've got to go. We're--" + +"Sure, I see," he said. It was very dark and he came closer. "You care! +That's what it is. You used to, Sally, and you do now." + +"Lafe, let me go! Please--please!" + +She broke away and gained the door. She was panting. In the lighted +entrance, she looked back. + +"You've got to go to-morrow, remember," she said faintly. + +But he did not go on the morrow. Floyd was astir before dawn--he usually +fell asleep on a sofa immediately after his supper, thereby gaining a +few hours on everyone else--and rode away with ten men to bring up the +last herd of the sixteen thousand head he would ship. + +Sally was distrait and restless all day. She punished the baby for +upsetting a pitcher, and then ordered the Mexican nurse to take him and +keep him out of her sight. Johnson stayed away from the house and busied +himself at the corrals, where some newly purchased mules were being +broken to harness for his employer. He never gave an order, yet the boys +obeyed his slow-voiced suggestions with the same promptitude they gave +to the boss's crisp commands. Lafe could always get obedience without +visible exercise of authority. He knew his business and followed it +without fluster. + +At sunset, a cloud of dust whirled madly across country, with the rain +close behind it. Sally ate alone--Lafe had evidently stayed at the +bunkhouse--and she felt vaguely resentful. About nine she tucked the +child into his bed and went out on to the veranda. The wind was dying, +and the rain fell in a soft, steady murmur. + +Johnson came running along the pathway and took the steps at a jump. He +was wet, but jeered at her suggestion that he change. + +"Only got this one suit," he said. "If it gets to shrinking much more on +me, I'll have for to steal a blanket to-morrow, Sally." + +He took a chair beside her and they watched the lightning play above the +black jumble of hills to the east. Sally uttered hardly a syllable. +When she spoke at all, the words came jerkily. Lafe leaned over once to +brush some sparks of his cigarette from his coat. A delicate perfume +reached him. + +"The river," he said, clearing his throat, "the river'll be way up. +Bridge is like to go out." + +"I'm afraid so. Oh, dear! Tom promised he'd come home to-night, too." + +"Come home to-night? Why, it's thirty miles." + +"I know it. But he's never failed to keep his word yet," she said. + +"He won't come home to-night." + +A writhing fork of lightning leaped from east to north. There was no +thunder. They sat tensely quiet and the rain dripped sadly from the +roof. + +"No, he won't come home to-night," he said in a hoarse voice. "He +can't." + +"Sally!" he breathed, bending toward her. "Sally!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +CONCERNING A BABY'S WAIL + + +He was gripping both her hands and she had not moved. Her lips were +open, but she seemed powerless to speak. A loud thump startled the pair. +A shrill wail from the bedroom and Mrs. Floyd sprang up. + +The baby had fallen from the bed and was now engaged in howling himself +purple in the face. Mrs. Floyd swooped down on him in a tremor, and +gathering him in her arms, went all over his sturdy body with speed and +precision, to ascertain in just how many places bones were broken. + +"Lafe," she cried, "he's bumped his head. Oh, just look at this lump! My +own precious darling! Lafe, get the witch-hazel! Quick! No, no! In the +bathroom, on the window sill. Oh, he's holding his breath! Baby! Baby!" + +She shook Tommy until he was forced to release the air in his lungs, +which he let go with a tearing yell. Johnson brought the bottle and +stood awkwardly holding it, while she applied some of the contents to a +red spot on the baby's forehead. Sally sat in a chair, rocking back and +forward, with her lips against her child's neck and her arms holding +him close. Little Tom clutched her tightly and gradually his cries and +sobs ceased. Lafe tiptoed to the door. He remained there a few minutes +to watch, leaning against the jamb. But Sally did not appear to notice +him as she crooned to the baby, who was sinking to sleep. + +Johnson was standing at the edge of the steps, staring into the +blackness, when she came out. He threw away his cigarette on hearing her +call his name. + +"Just look at that dark, Sally, will you?" he said. "It beats all." + +At the tone of his voice, she cried: "Oh, Lafe, Lafe! I'm so glad!" + +Mrs. Floyd did not specify why she was glad, nor did Johnson ask her. +She gave him both hands without hesitation, and they stood smiling at +each other in comradely fashion in the half-light from the hall. When he +spoke, it was to his childhood's playmate. + +"Huh-huh!" she agreed. "Let's sit down and talk over old times. Do you +remember, Lafe, the grass fights we used to have? You were an awful +cheat." + +"That's a lie, ma'am! Leastways, it ain't true. You done put a lizard +down my back with a bunch of grass." + +They were in high glee when a clatter of hoofs broke in on them. It +startled Mrs. Floyd. + +"What's that? Who's that?" + +Two riders pulled up in front of the house, and Floyd stepped stiffly +out of the saddle. He gave the reins to Miguel, who disappeared toward +the corrals at a gallop. The boss was spattered with mud, and wringing +wet and dog-weary. As he came into the light, he dragged his feet, and +water ran in streams from his overalls and seeped from his boots. + +"Tom!" His wife ran to him. + +"Don't," he said. "I'm soaking." + +"How did you get here? Mercy! You're a sight. Don't let the rain drip on +the rug! Stand over here." + +"How's the bridge, Floyd?" Johnson asked. + +"The bridge is down," the boss answered. "We done swum the river." Then +he chuckled grimly. "Miguel, he was plumb scared, but I pulled a gun on +him and made him go ahead." + +He threw himself into a chair and removed his muddied spurs. + +"I never dreamed you'd get back to-night," said Sally. + +"I said I would, didn't I?" + +Johnson, resting his shoulders against the sitting-room mantel, suddenly +bethought himself and went to his room, whence he returned briskly with +a bottle of whisky. + +"This'll keep the cold out." + +"Why, you must be half dead, you poor, dear old Boy Blue!" Sally cried; +the name fitted the boss as happily as Fido would a rhinoceros. "Wait, +and I'll cook you something." + +Something in her manner or her words caused Floyd to lift his head +sharply. A slow smile twisted his features. He got up and went into the +dining-room to pour some water into his drink. Before he drained it, he +looked at his reflection in the glass above the sideboard. His eyes +showed tired but well content. + +"Come on, Lafe," he said brusquely. "Let's eat." + +"You're on," said the cheery Mr. Johnson. + +Sally hovered about them, constantly running to the kitchen for hot +coffee and toast. Lafe sat back--it being his custom to bring his mouth +down to his fork, instead of his fork up to his mouth--and surveyed the +scene with much approval. Mrs. Floyd was at that moment pressing her +husband to a second plate of scrambled eggs. + +"There's nothing like a home, after all," said the boss, with a sigh of +satisfaction. "You ought for to get married, Lafe." + +"Hell!--yes!" said Lafe, who was sometimes careless in his speech. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +OUT OF A JOB + + +Three days later Johnson left us to go north with his last load of +cattle. Floyd and his wife were at the pens to say good-by, and waved at +him until the caboose followed the rest of the train around a curve. +Even Tommy flapped his chubby fist. And in the course of time Horne paid +him off. + +That was in Kansas City. Johnson spent his earnings in something under +thirty hours and made the return in a day coach, having no money for a +berth. Indeed, his last meal, which he procured at a wayside lunch +counter in New Mexico, he was compelled to charge. It was made easier +for him to do this inasmuch as he had already eaten the meal. The +landlord, after slowly thinking it over, said he would trust Lafe. + +Now he was back in the cow country, hopeful that Horne might find +further employment for him, for that was the only work in which Lafe was +content. And he went to Badger, his credit being good there until they +should discover he had no money. It behooved him to get a job, with +winter almost on them, yet the prospect did not distress Lafe in the +least. He loitered around the Fashion, waiting for something to turn +up. + +On a November morn, Buffalo Jim rode into Badger from the Lazy L, +leading a pack-horse that carried all his worldly possessions on its +back. Buffalo was lifted up in heart and scornful of roundups, having +just sold a mine. It does not concern us what sort of mine he sold, +although a gentleman from Illinois grew very nasty over this point +subsequently. Suffice that Jim had four hundred dollars. + +He told Lafe that he was through with the Lazy L and sick cows, and +would devote his future to prospecting. Nobody would ever order him +around again; he wouldn't stand to be roused out of bed at four in the +morning by Floyd, or any man alive. A week's work in the hills, a vein +of copper--and here he was with money in his pocket, able to glean +life's pleasures. He banged his silver down on the bar and looked all +around, like a landed proprietor. Johnson agreed that it was a tempting +career, although a man had once hunted him for a month with a sawed-off +.25-35 because of a similar transaction. Buffalo scoffed at the +suggestion of the Illinois party ever finding him, and he proceeded to +do nothing. Lafe helped him. + +It is to be feared that you will regard these two as a godless pair, +which I deplore. Remember that customs create standards of behavior, and +in Johnson's world they are suspicious of a man who permits himself no +indulgences. Besides, in your circle or in mine, what earthly honor is +accorded the man so palely good that he never takes a jaunt into the +pleasant by-ways? + +So then, Lafe Johnson and Buffalo Jim proceeded to enjoy life in Badger +in the only way they knew. There was really no adequate physical reason +for Shortredge's name of Buffalo Jim. If one scrutinized him closely, +the difference could be discerned with comparative ease. Yet Shortredge +possessed traits that made the appellation peculiarly fitting. When +storms brew, a buffalo will drift into them head on, being so +constructed by the Creator. It is yet to be learned that Jim ever +permitted trouble to overtake him with his back turned. + +They were lying under a pool table in the Fashion one gusty November +dawn, lost in vague conjecture as to how they had arrived there, when +Mr. Shortredge was seized of an inspiration. He told Lafe that he would +give a dance, and Lafe readily consenting to this expenditure of his +friend's money, they sallied forth to acquaint the citizens of the +impending function, and to bid them come. + +"I want everybody to come a-runnin'," was Jim's formal invitation. "No +style, mind; but it's best to be clean." + +The ball was held in Haverty's empty feed barn and the guests presented +themselves with the commendable expedition their host had urged on them. +At an early hour in the festivities, three male persons from Nogales +sought admittance, and Lafe Johnson, not taking kindly to their looks, +a slight awkwardness resulted. This was satisfactorily adjusted between +the barn and the town limits, and Lafe and his companion returned to +their hospitable duties in that peace of mind obtainable from work well +done. + +"What do you think of that there girl with the yallow hair?" said +Johnson, in a cautious whisper that could not be heard beyond fifty +feet. + +"I don't think much of her," Jim answered. "Too loose in the j'ints for +me." + +"I reckon she looks good enough to tie to," said Lafe. + +In pursuance of this opinion, he began to haunt the vicinity of Grace +Hawes. He danced two Paul Joneses with her; followed them with a +two-step and a waltz; and by that time Miss Hawes was giggling in +half-hysterical mirth over her partner's unusual sallies. She slapped +playfully at Lafe when he leaned close to her ear to whisper. + +"Say, you've got your nerve," she said, covering her face with her hands +in an ecstasy of laughter. + +"No, I ain't. Honest I ain't. I'm sure shy as a teeny li'l' rabbit with +other girls." + +"What makes you go to say them things then?" + +"You do. You make me brighten up a heap. And I'd kind of like to learn +to talk easy like the other boys." + +"You've got 'em backed into the cactus right now," said Grace, once more +overcome. + +The two were occupying one of the wooden benches ranged against the +walls. Johnson was obliged to give her up at this point to a man from +New Mexico. His visage was expressionless as he watched her depart and +then he crossed to the door to institute inquiries as to how this +interloper had contrived to get in. + +"Let's run him off," said Jim. "That big Hick ought to be in a +cotton-patch, anyhow." + +"No-oo. She'd think I was jealous. And I'm not caring; not me. She can +blister her feet for all of me, and he's a sure a-helping her. Watch him +tromp on her toes. Say, Buf'lo, that's the third time she's danced with +that there feller." + +"What're you getting all swelled up about, Lafe?" Haverty asked, +overhearing. "Quit your roaring. You mad just because Steve done took +your girl?" + +"Mad, hell!" said Johnson. "Who is this here Steve, Haverty?" + +"He done drifted in about a month ago. Works for the Tumbling K. You've +heard of him, Lafe? Shore you have. Goes by the name of Moffatt. He done +killed Hi Waggoner and Balaam Halsell and--" + +"Now I've got you. Sure. He's the gunfighter. So that's Steve Moffatt?" + +Lafe's eyes brightened and one would have thought that this discovery +was the only thing needed to complete his satisfaction. He grinned +genially at Moffatt when they chanced to meet at Miss Hawes's side, and +exchanged polite surmises on the outlook for more rain. Said Mr. +Johnson, knowing well to the contrary: "Running sheep?" + +"Cattle," said Moffatt shortly. + +He studied Lafe with an oblique glance, not at all sure that no insult +lurked in the query. Presently he whisked Miss Hawes away. The majority +of the gentlemen at the ball held their partners with both hands around +the shoulders, and this method afforded excellent opportunity for Grace +to gaze up into Moffatt's eyes. Her own were deep blue and singularly +enticing. Steve's were brown and very, very alert and steady, and Miss +Hawes rapidly discovered that they refused to waver and grow uncertain, +as was the habit of most masculine orbs. To Johnson, this exhibition +seemed crude, even raw. He went outside where the refreshments were +cached in order to find Buffalo. + +"Say, Jim, I swan that don't seem the right way to dance," he said. "It +don't look proper, hugging a girl that away." + +"Huh! It don't, hey? You took to it smart enough. You weren't hollering. +Why, you didn't know whether you was on the floor or on the roof, when +she had you going. It sort of made me tired, Lafe, the way you done. +Better leave her be." + +An uproar broke out in the dance hall, and Johnson sped away to +ascertain the cause and to quell it. Quiet descended as his foot touched +the doorstep--a swift, ominous quiet. He discovered Moffatt standing in +the corner occupied by the Mexican orchestra. One of the three players +sprawled on the floor, rubbing his head and sobbing, and in front of the +gunfighter was an abashed puncher from the Tumbling K range. + +"What did you hit him with that there stool for?" Moffatt asked, as Lafe +approached. + +"He weren't keeping good time," said the cowboy. "I done told him so +twice." + +"Go on and dance," Moffatt ordered. "Here, you. Here's your guitar. Take +to it. And when a gen'l'man asks you to slow up again, you slow up. +Savez?" + +Miss Hawes took his arm, with a soft, prideful sigh, and they moved off. +It was glorious to be the center of all eyes, and she was very proud of +him just then. He dominated the assembly with such disdainful unconcern. +She had seen the Tumbling K boy actually shrink. Realizing quickly the +need of smoothing out the situation, Lafe created a diversion. Advancing +to the center of the floor, he shouted: "The next'll be a quadrille. Get +your partners for a quadrille. Hi, everybody! Step to it." + +Thus harmlessly did the incident pass over. Lafe was famous at calling +off a dance and soon Grace found herself wavering in her allegiance. It +is true that Moffatt was extremely handsome, but Lafe had a way. He +might be too stooped and indolent for grace of movement, but--Johnson's +voice came to her over the heads of the whirling crowd, and she forgot +to reply to a question from her partner. + +"First lady to the right, the right hand gent the right hand round. +Partner by the left as you come round. Lady in the center, all hands +round," he yelled, and there was a swirl of skirts and lifting of dust +to stamping feet. + +"Head lady and opposite gent forward and back," he chanted again. + + Give right hand half way round; + Back with left, left hand round. + Promenade the corner as you come around. + +When the dance ended, it was the conventional thing for a gentleman to +abandon the lady where they chanced to find themselves at the moment and +go on about his business. Taking advantage of this custom, Lafe +descended upon Miss Hawes and bore her off; nor did he once give her up +until the stars paled in the sky. Then he asserted his right to take her +home. + +On the way he fell silent. All his glibness of tongue deserted him +abruptly, and Grace was mightily pleased over the symptom. + +"What's the matter, Mr. Lafe?" she asked. "Why don't you say a word?" + +"I'm studying over something," said Johnson. + +After a moment he inquired, without looking at her: "You done give me +two Paul Joneses, didn't you?" + +"Sure I did. Why? Weren't they enough?" + +"Yes. And four waltzes and four two-steps. Ain't that the tally?" + +"You've got it right. But what's the matter, Mr. Lafe?" + +"And you done let me have the Home Sweet Home waltz, too?" + +"Look a-here, Mr. Lafe, what're you driving at?" + +Johnson pondered darkly for a full minute. "What'd you give that feller +Steve?" he said finally. + +"You'd like to know, wouldn't you? Say, you've got your nerve." She +tilted her chin upwards and flashed a look at him. + +"What did you let that feller have?" he said again. + +"I won't tell you: so there. Not near so much as you got, Lafe Johnson. +Now, are you satisfied?" + +"Pretty near. Leastways, for a while." + +She gave Lafe her hand at parting, and he tried to draw her to him. It +was a half-hearted impulse, wholly lacking his customary dash. Grace +hesitated, flushed warmly; then, with a tremulous laugh, pushed him +back. + +"You certainly don't lose no time, do you, Lafe Johnson?" + +"I don't aim to." His voice was shaky. + +All that passed at the ball was perceived by Buffalo, who became greatly +exercised the next day over Lafe's extraordinary behavior. Instead of +establishing himself at pitch in the Fashion's back room, Johnson mooned +about town, or stared absently at the dust of the street whilst he +leaned against a post and whittled a stick. It was not as though he had +no money, for Jim had staked him. The cowboy took counsel of friends. +Buffalo Jim was disposed to hold Miss Hawes lightly. + +"I ain't no prude," he explained. "You boys know that right well. +You-all know me. I like a girl what's got ginger. But I don't figure on +marrying a whole can of it, nor I don't calculate to see ol' Lafe get it +smeared over him that way, neither." + +"Well, what're you aiming to do?" + +"Leave it to me. I'll fix it," said Jim. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AN INCIPIENT LOVE AFFAIR + + +In the afternoon Johnson called on Miss Hawes at the Cowboys' Rest, +where she bathed dishes and did other useful tasks. She was wearing a +pink dress with the neck cut low, and looked very neat and wholesome. +Nobody but a woman would have guessed that she had expected him. + +The sight of her put the finishing touches to Lafe. Within half an hour, +he was lost in speculation as to whether he could command sixty dollars +a month if he went to work for the Lazy L. And perhaps he might be given +the Ajos camp, with its comfortable adobe house and rosebushes in the +yard? He pictured her there. Lafe could almost hear the wild doves +cooing in the scrub-oak caņon. + +Grace made him sing. + + Come, all you wild rovers, pay 'tention to me + While I tell to you my sad historee. + I'm a man of experience, no favors to gain; + Love's been the ruin of many a man. + +He droned it through his nose, with sharp yelps at the end of each line, +like a coyote in the full swing of his nightly paroxysm. + +"I don't like that song," she said decidedly. "Cut it out. It's fierce." + +"I reckon it ain't true," Lafe admitted lamely, and tried another, a +plaintive ditty of Little Joe, the horse wrangler. + +Hardly had he finished than Moffatt knocked and was admitted. Steve had +on a new, yellow silk neckerchief, and Johnson cursed his want of +foresight in not purchasing some finery. To-morrow that would be +rectified: he recalled a green one he had seen in the store window. + +The gunfighter let two six-shooters slip from his waist when he entered, +depositing them carefully on a chair. Local ordinances do not permit the +carrying of firearms in Badger, and Johnson was interested. + +"You travel well heeled?" he remarked. + +"Yes," said Moffatt, "but I don't talk about it." + +"Do you know, I'm always scared to pack a gun," Lafe went on pleasantly. +"You'll never see me with one, Miss Hawes." + +"Why not? I like them. They look so cute." + +"I'm always scared somebody'll twist the sights off'n it, or take the +doggone thing away and slap me." + +"Some fellers do get hurt trying for to pack a gun," Steve said. He +added critically: "You look stout enough." + +"I'm feeling pretty tol'able fair, thanks." + +When Lafe got home that night, Jim was sitting up for him, thumping his +heels against the edge of the bed. He was so much concerned for his +friend that he did not feel like sleep. After a tentative puff or two on +a cigarette, and some coughing, he got it out. Did Lafe know that Grace +Hawes--Johnson silenced him curtly, and they lay down, back to back. But +Buffalo was undaunted by a sleepless night. His was a staunch soul, and +early next morning he repaired to the Cowboys' Rest to interview Miss +Hawes. + +"You say he's been married before?" Grace cried. "Lafe Johnson is +married now, you say?" + +"Shore," said Jim, with a friendly smile. "That's a way ol' Lafe has. He +don't mean no harm, Miss Grace. He's just naturally playful. It's sort +of a habit he's got, getting married--sort of a hobby like." + +"Hobby? I'll hobby him--hobby him good. How often has he had the habit? +How many wives has he got now, Mr. Buf'lo?" + +"Oh, not a great many. I don't rightly know, but--" + +"And these--these wives and fam'lies? Where are they?" + +"There ain't many fam'lies," Jim corrected, beginning to regret his +interference. "Not a great many fam'lies, Miss Hawes. Just a few, +scattered here and there." + +"Get out!" said Miss Hawes. "Get out, and don't you never show your face +round here again. Married? Huh, you can't go to fool me! You quit +trying to crowd into my affairs or it'll be the worse for you, Mr. +Buf'lo." + +"Certainly, ma'am. Certainly, Miss Grace," Jim said, seizing his hat. +"Excuse me, ma'am, will you, please?" + +He decided to say nothing of the visit to Lafe. + +When Johnson reached the Cowboys' Rest that evening, Moffatt was already +ensconced in the wicker rocking-chair. Lafe was momentarily cast down. A +conference had revealed that he and Buffalo had no more money. They must +go in search of work without delay. + +"Oh, Mr. Lafe," was Grace's greeting, "guess what! I've been asking +Steve about shooting, and he done promised to keep a can in the air for +five shots to-morrow." + +"That's good shooting," said Johnson, accepting a chair. + +"Ain't it wonderful? I do love a man who can shoot. When I marry, I want +a man who knows how to keep other men scared. I used to tell my sister +back in Abilene--she ain't like me. No, indeed. She's a society lady, my +sister is. I done said to her, 'Mary Lou, when--'" + +"Yes, it takes nerve to be a gunfighter," Lafe interrupted. + +"Oh, it's grand, I think." Miss Hawes clasped her hands and rolled her +eyes. + +"Yes, sir; yes, ma'am, it sure takes nerve. A gunfighter always gives +the other feller an even break. And he don't care how even it is, does +he, Moffatt?" + +"I don't take you," Moffatt said doubtfully. + +"Why, there's all kinds of nerve in this world, Miss Hawes," said Lafe. +"When a man knows he's better at a thing than the next man, he's liable +to be awful nervy. Take a bronc buster, now. He knows he can clean a +horse, and he ain't scared so you could notice it. And a gunman. If the +other feller was a mite quicker, I wonder if he'd--What do you think?" + +Said Moffatt: "I don't know what you're driving at." + +"Well, look a-here. Supposing I was to put it up to a gunfighter--to Mr. +Moffatt here, say--'Let's go into that back room with just our bare +hands and lock the door and lay the key on the table.'" + +"What for?" Miss Hawes asked breathlessly. + +"The best man to open it--I wonder now what a gunman--what Mr. Moffatt +here--would say to that?" + +"I ain't a fool," was what Moffatt had to say to that. + +"Or," Lafe resumed, "what if I put it up this way to some of them +terrible fighters? What if I said, 'Let's put two guns on a table, draw +off to opposite sides of the room, let another feller count three, and +the man who gets to 'em first, lives?'" + +None of the three moved when Johnson had finished. The alarm clock on +the flimsy, draped mantel-shelf ticked loudly. Miss Hawes's breathing +sounded strained. + +"Ol' man Haverty wanted to see you down at the Fashion, Moffatt," Lafe +said at last. + +"You coming, too?" + +"I reckon so." + +"You're on," said Moffatt. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +DISCOMFITURE OF A GUNFIGHTER + + +Grace accompanied them to the door. + +"Everybody'll know you're fighting about me," she whispered, twittering +with excitement. "Everybody is sure to know the row is over me?" + +"Yes. I'm afraid so," said Lafe, staring at her. + +"Oh. All the girls will be wild." + +There was not an instant's hesitation in Haverty's acceptance of the +mastership of ceremonies. He took Moffatt's two guns, examined them +thoroughly and removed the cartridges. The weapons were exactly alike. +Then he reloaded them and stationed the men. + +"Both your hosses is ready saddled," he announced. "So one of you kin +get over the Border." + +"That suits me," said Steve. + +They were stationed in opposite corners of the rear room in the Fashion, +a table placed accurately half-way between. On the table were two +six-shooters, the butts outward. Johnson had the ball of one foot braced +against the wall. + +"All ready?" Haverty said crisply. "One--two--three!" + +Johnson gained the middle of the room at a bound, seizing his gun and +overturning the table with one movement. It crashed against Moffatt's +chest and his hands failed to grasp the weapon. Lafe jammed the .45 +close to his ribs and pulled twice. + +"Help, boys!" Moffatt shrieked, sinking to the floor. "Help! He's +murdering me!" + +He threw an arm upward, as though to ward off the death he had meted out +to others. Johnson remained over him, the smoking gun in his hand. + +"Get up," he said. "Get up and run." + +"I can't. You got me twice. I'm done for, I reckon." + +"Pshaw!" said Haverty. "You ain't even hit. Just scorched, Moffatt. Them +was blank kattridges." + +From the floor, the gunfighter gazed stupidly at the two. He arose +slowly and dusted himself. + +Outside in the crowded bar, nobody ventured to gibe at him, for Moffatt +was always a dangerous man, and most dangerous when beaten or +humiliated. He went quickly in search of his horse. + +"You'd better go back to Grace," Johnson said, following to see him +safely out of town. + +"Not me. I'm overdue at the ranch already. She's yours. I wish you joy +of her, Lafe." + +He rode out of town at a purposely slow dogtrot. Some time afterward he +killed a Mexican vaquero in a dispute over a bridle, and fled south. + +Johnson was saddling next day, when Grace Hawes swept into the yard of +the stable and confronted him. + +"What's this I hear?" she shrilled. "What's the meaning of it, Lafe +Johnson? Where're you going?" + +"I've got to go to the ranch to-day, Grace." + +"You mean you're through with me, Lafe Johnson?" + +"I wouldn't go to put it that way, Grace. Don't take on so." + +"I will--I will! I don't care who hears. You're a villain--that's what +you are. You promised last night--you said--" + +"A man had ought to be sociable with ladies," said Lafe, busy with the +cinch. + +"You done run off a man who was worth two of you any day, Lafe Johnson. +And then you go to leave me. You leave me here to be laughed at. You ... +here, wait. Don't go, Lafe. Lafe, I didn't mean ... please, Lafe ... oh, +please ..." + +Johnson and Buffalo ambled side by side along a mesa covered with +mesquite. Jim had promise of a job from Floyd and assured Johnson of +one, also. Both planned to eschew the frivolities of city life +henceforth. Buffalo asked suddenly: "What made you draw off so sudden +that way, Lafe?" + +Johnson grinned at him. + +"It's right queer, Jim," he said. "But when she saw us off to go to +fighting, some way I begun to think of my li'l' sister. You knew my +sister Kitty, back in Texas, didn't you, Buf'lo? She's got yallow +hair." + +"I shore did," said Jim, in some confusion. + +"Well, I sort of begun to wonder what I'd think of Kitty if she served a +man like that. It was all off then. If Kitty tried a game like that, +Buf'lo, I'd sure take to her right smart with a rope end." + +"Me and you both," Jim said heartily. + +They rode onward toward the Lazy L headquarters, one whistling, the +other smiling over memories. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +JOHNSON IS ELECTED SHERIFF OF BADGER + + +For you or for me a certain embarrassment would attach to a return to +work at a place we had sworn to avoid forever. Nothing of the sort +appeared to trouble Buffalo Jim. A month previous he had left the Lazy +L, scornful of cow work, vowing that he would live like a gentleman all +his days. Now, penniless and unrepentant, he came back as a matter of +course. + +Indeed, Shortredge put his horses into the corral at headquarters as a +man might who had reached home from a long trip. And there was not a +vestige of surprise on Floyd's face when he greeted Jim. He did it +casually, and shook hands with Lafe and said that he was glad to see +him. Then he gave Buffalo certain orders for the morrow, touching the +matter of salt for the cattle, just as though Jim had never been off the +ranch. The cowboy merely said: "You stayed a week longer'n we figured +on, Buf'lo." + +So Buffalo Jim went to work at daybreak and Johnson loitered at +headquarters. Mrs. Floyd was unaffectedly glad to see him and was not +too inquisitive as to why he happened to be there. Indeed, she appeared +to take his arrival as quite natural, which spared Lafe much confusion. +He played with Tommy most of the time, and on the third day of his stay +he sounded Floyd on the subject of a job. The boss had expected it, and +surmising that Lafe was hard up, attempted to drive a hard bargain. A +prudent man, such was his practice. It may be, too, that the boss did +not especially relish the notion of Johnson being permanently on the +place. + +"Oh, no," said Lafe, "I couldn't take that." + +He was never one to accept anything handed him merely because his +situation looked desperate. That policy of compromise might befit the +weak, but Johnson was made of sterner stuff. No matter in what straits +his mistakes landed him, he forever kept his own valuation at a certain +figure. And usually other men accepted his estimate. + +"That's the best I can do," Floyd ended. "I've got a range boss already, +and a top hand ain't worth over fifty a month, Lafe." + +"All right. I'll be drifting." + +"Stick around a bit, anyhow. We might strike a trade later. Say, come up +to the house. The missus wants you to stay with us instead of down here +at the bunkhouse." + +"Thanks," said Lafe, "but your cook's been sick since that weddin'. No, +I reckon I'd best hang round with the boys down here." + +He remained at the Lazy L a week, half expecting that Horne would send +a message to bespeak his services again. In paying him off, the cowman +had intimated that he would shortly have other deals to be put through. +A message arrived, but not from the cattle buyer. The bearer came, he +said, from Turner, the storekeeper and justice of the peace of Badger. +After listening for a moment, Lafe led him behind the barn for further +converse. + +"They want me to run for Sheriff of Badger," he told Buffalo Jim that +night. + +"Go to it," said Jim. "It'll make the town a heap pleasanter for us. +We'll feel safer. The boys'll sure be pleased." + +It would appear that Johnson's bloodless defeat of Moffatt had made a +deep appeal to the citizens of Badger. They reasoned that a man who +dared make a fool of a notorious character should be able to make short +work of lesser fry. Accordingly, their message was that the law-abiding +residents of the town were desirous of securing Mr. Johnson's services; +and would he come forthwith? To this Lafe answered that he would return +to Badger in a day or two, and the messenger departed. And for two solid +days Johnson dawdled about headquarters, absolutely idle. He had an idea +that to show eagerness would be to weaken his position. This surmise +proved correct. + +Badger leaped at once to the conclusion that they could not get him. +Yes, he had seemed reluctant, said the messenger. Now, the average man +does not want a thing badly until he is persuaded he can obtain it only +by strenuous effort. And masses are like individuals, in this respect. +That was why, as Lafe approached the town, he met a small party of +horsemen headed for the Lazy L. It was a deputation of citizens, set out +to cajole him into accepting the office. Briefly and earnestly they +explained how things stood in Badger. + +"All right," said Lafe, "I'll run. But remember this--when I'm elected, +you-all look alike to me. I won't play favorites. There'll be law and +order in Badger." + +"Sure," the committee agreed. "That's the ticket, Lafe. Well, let's have +a li'l' touch, just for luck." + +Johnson's opponent in the election was simply nowhere. The tale of +Lafe's prowess grew with every telling. Tim Haverty asserted on his +hopes of heaven that Lafe could take a six-shooter and drive the nails +into the shoes of a running horse. Personally, I suspect Mr. Haverty to +have been guilty of some slight exaggeration. Still, there was ample +evidence that Johnson could handle a gun, and nobody on the Border +doubted his courage. Led by Turner, the respectable element voted for +him as a unit. The others--the hard drinkers, and the gamblers, and men +of no steady means of support--ranged with Lafe, too. They had known him +as a "good fellow," a man liberal with his money and equally liberal in +his views. Therefore they anticipated no trouble to themselves from his +election. + +In this manner was Lafe Johnson elected sheriff of Badger. When made +acquainted with the result, he took a long breath and grew very solemn. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I thank you for your support. And I'll sure do my +duty." + +The opportunity was afforded him that same night. Some of them who had +worked most ardently for Lafe were gathered in the Cowboys' Rest, and +there was considerable drinking. A dispute arose, and in the course of +it the landlord laid out one of the disputants with a chair. A panicky +person fired a gun. That brought Lafe into the Rest at a quick run. + +"Stop it," he shouted. "The very first man who pulls a gun goes against +me. Tommy, give me that six-shooter. Now, you get out and wait for me." + +He broke Tommy's gun and motioned him outside. Then Johnson examined the +injured man on the floor. He was badly hurt. + +"You'll have to come along with me," he told the landlord. + +"Go along with you? Go along--why, Lafe, I just had to hit him." The +landlord could hardly believe his ears. Had he not repeated three times +for Lafe in the election? + +"You can explain that to the judge. Come on, now. Get moving." + +The landlord gaped a moment and then announced that he hoped to be +damned if he went. If Lafe thought he could double-cross him in that +manner, he had a few things to learn. The sheriff made a step forward +and the landlord reached under the bar for his .45. Before he could +raise it, Johnson gripped his wrist and with his free hand struck him +over the head with the butt of Tommy's gun. The landlord gave a grunt +and dropped into the sheriff's arms like a sack of meal. Five minutes +later he went before the justice of the peace very quietly, along with +Tommy. + +"Understand me"--the new sheriff faced the crowd that followed, some of +them murmuring--"I'd arrest my best friend if he broke the law. Remember +that." + +"Hell, Lafe," they protested, "this is running it over us." + +"We're going to have order here in Badger. Come on, you two," said +Johnson. + +Then he went bail for his prisoners. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A FEUD AND WHAT CAME OF IT + + +They had hanged a man in the Willows. He was swinging from a lower limb +of a tree sixteen feet in diameter--the natives call it the Mother of +Cottonwoods. The sheriff of Badger and I cut him down, and because the +time was summer and the flies were bad, we buried him with all haste in +the sand, beside a chiming stream. Then, that no prowler might despoil, +we piled rocks above, and got to horse without delay. + +"He don't look like nothing now," said Lafe, "but it's Tom Rooker. You +remember ol' Rooker? He always bummed his drinks, Tom did." + +We rode through a pleasant grove, where it was eternally twilight by +day. A squirrel chattered above us and the stream whispered here in a +sandy bed. At a bend, we came upon three cows wading belly-deep in the +current and eating of watercress. Some birds cheeped in a leafy thicket +beside the trail. The Willows was a paradise. Then a black shadow +flitted in front, as we emerged into a glade where the light was +stronger, and a bleary buzzard settled leisurely on the topmost branch +of a tree. He gazed at us with calm insolence. I looked hastily away, +remembering what we had laid out. + +After a while, the sheriff said: "I shouldn't have left town, Dan. I +shouldn't have gone." + +"You had to go." + +"They wouldn't have got away with it, if I'd been home. Poor ol' Tom--he +was awful good-natured when he was sober." + +We left the Willows behind and traversed open country, heading up the +San Pedro Valley. As we went, the sheriff talked of the hanging. He +spoke in a hushed tone, as though there were ears to hear; or, it may +be, he could not get the dead man out of his thoughts. + +"This is some of Bud Walton's work," he said. + +It did not appear probable to me. Walton could have shot Tom with much +less bother and unpleasantness. + +"Bud might not have done it himself. No, he wouldn't. But some of his +friends done it for him." Lafe slapped his thigh in passionate +determination. "I tell you, Dan, I'm a-going to put a stop to this +trouble. Fellers like them are keeping this country back. Either Bud or +Jeff have got to come to a showdown, or get out of Badger." + +"Go to it. That's what they put you in for." + +"I know," he said, with a return to gloom, "but you can't do everything +in six months. I've got to move according to law, being how I am +situated. And they've been awful careful, them two have." + +He fell to communing with himself, and we went steadily forward, the +ponies shuffling the dust in a dejected chop-trot. It was almost noon, +and the heat waves were lifting from the ground like the smoke of an oil +flame. We passed a dead tree, and the sheriff roused from reverie. + +"They done hung Dave Pearsall from there six years back," he said, with +a jerk of his head. + +I glanced around for the grave, it being the custom to inter close to +the scene of the taking-off. + +"It's over beyond. No, you can't see it, 'count of that rise. But you +get your eye on that tree. Notice? And now the Mother of Cottonwoods'll +die, too." + +"Pshaw!" said I, laughing. "You don't believe that old woman's tale, do +you?" + +"Of course, now," he said patiently, "you know better." + +Many cowmen had voiced the superstition, but the sheriff had not struck +me as of a credulous type. + +"I've knowed eight men to be strung up on eight big, sound trees," he +went on, "and I've seen eight trees that looked as if the devil had +smashed 'em. Blasted. Yes, sir; dead as a rat and deader. You wait and +see." + +Presently he began to speak of the feud which had been the bane of his +office during four of the six months of his tenure. When I proffered the +suggestion, in a spirit of hope, that there must have been a beautiful +fight before the Walton faction secured Rooker, he dismissed that +possibility with an impatient snort. It was like that Jeff Thomas had +been away, he said; probably south of the Border, on some meanness or +other. As for Tom, he had not mixed much in the trouble in town. Perhaps +they had picked on him because he was Jeff's closest friend. + +"We'll know right soon now. Gee, ain't the heat a fright? Say, Dan, if +you take my advice, you'll hit the grit out of Badger just as hard as +you can make it." + +I resolutely declined to hit the grit as proposed. Soon we came in sight +of the town. It showed uncertainly on the horizon like a lake of mist, +with a few wavering windmills swaying therein; it might have been an +impressionistic painting of a Dutch canal. A mile from the first house, +the sheriff pulled up and bade me remain where I was, whilst he entered +Badger. His instructions were that I should hold back for ten minutes +precisely, then proceed casually into town, leaving my horse at the +cattle company's corral, and meet him at dinner in the Fashion. + +"No, you can't come with me," he said. "So let that soak into your hide. +It's like some fool will start something and I don't want you on my +mind. You'd only be in the way." + +This was not flattering, but every man to his business. The sheriff made +preparations for his by looking carefully to his six-shooter. Then he +nodded and rode ahead into Badger. Ten minutes and ten seconds later, I +followed. + +Badger suggests in its exterior a woman of the street, made up carefully +as to the face and run-down at the heel. To left and to right as you +enter from the west, are the Fashion and the Cowboys' Rest, both of +frame, and pretentious structures for that region. Then there is the +Wells-Fargo express office, with a tin roof which catches all the heat +of the ages and sends it sizzling over Badger. There are a general store +and a butcher shop; two Eating Houses, one at the Fashion, the other +conducted by a Chinaman; and a broken line of one-story, two-roomed +dwellings of rough boards. Beyond that again, a few adobe huts straggle +for a full half-mile. They are the abodes of natives. The cattle +company's corral is at the extreme edge of town, and there is a stable +attached. From there one can see the habitation of Dutch Annie and her +handmaidens. Usually the tinkle of a piano greets the wayfarer, and +sometimes bursts of laughter which have no tinkle in them, nor any +musical quality whatever. + +The sheriff's horse slouched in front of the Fashion as I proceeded down +the street. Not a human being moved in sight. The express agent waved a +friendly hand at me from the interior of his darkened office, and +bestowed a sardonic grin. Then he made a fanciful gesture, as of drawing +a loop around his neck. Next, he was fighting violently for breath, and +he was still engaged in this agreeable pantomime when I passed beyond +his ken. A mongrel collie, stretched in the hot dust, retreated +sluggishly to give me right of way, and, sitting on his rump, began to +scratch for fleas. + +"Say, Dan, hell's a-poppin'," said Tim Haverty cheerfully. + +Mr. Haverty takes care of the company's corral and counts that day lost +when no fracas promises. He told me all about it now, with a most unholy +glee, although he is an old, old man, who ought to be giving thought to +heavenly things. + +His tale ran thus--the town of Badger was divided against itself. Jeff +Thomas had come up from the south, weary of Mexican chuck and sullen +from failure. He had said nothing when informed of Tom Rooker's demise +and the manner thereof, but, amply refreshed, had started a hunt for +Walton in order to fasten a row on him. It happened that Bud was away in +the mountains when his enemy made the round of his usual haunts, and +Jeff's slowly enunciated insults to Bud's adherents had not been taken +up. So, fearing an outbreak that would stain Badger's fair name, the +express agent and the general-store man, the butcher, and five other +reputable citizens had proposed a compromise, in order to preserve +peace--to wit, a division of the city of Badger. All north of the street +was to be Thomas' hunting ground; the section to the south was free to +Bud to wander in at his pleasure. Both men had been prevailed upon to +accept this arbitration--Thomas, with a show of reluctance, but real +willingness; the other, grudgingly, after persuasion. + +"If you ast me," said Old Man Haverty judicially, "if you ast me, Dan, +I'd say Bud has got it on Thomas in some ways. Yes, sir; Jeff, he's +scared of that feller, except when he's good and mad." + +Such apportionment of a town has not been uncommon in the southwest in +times past. I know of two communities similarly divided, at present +writing. The armistice makes for temporary peace, but has a decided +tendency to be irksome to citizens who would be nonpartisan, and it +usually ends by a casual trespass, or one of intent, prompted by bravado +or rye. After which the deceased gentleman's record is thoroughly +threshed out and it is agreed on all sides that he was a pretty good +fellow, "but--" + +The sheriff and I sat later at a table in the Fashion, toying with a +pile of dominoes. And we discussed these things. It is etiquette for a +visitor, on entering the city, to hand over his gun to the bartender of +the first place of call. This signifies that his designs are peaceful, +and perhaps honest, and it also keeps him out of a heap of mischief. +Besides, if he does not do that, the sheriff is apt to seek him out and +take the weapon, anyway. Therefore, the gentleman who was swabbing the +bar with a damp towel had possession of my .45 Colt. + +Night fell. Daniel Boone--fat and fifty, who claimed descent from the +great pioneer--was at a table in a corner by himself, practicing +sleight-of-hand with a pack of cards, faro being his profession. If luck +favored Daniel, some plump lamb would be delivered to his fleecing +before another dawn broke. + +Jeff Thomas came in, walked to the bar and ordered a drink. The Fashion +being on his domain, this occasioned no surprise. Then he espied the +sheriff and clanked across to our table. + +"Hello, Johnson. Say, Walton's been making threats against my life," he +said. + +"Huh-huh?" said the sheriff carelessly. "Seems to me, Jeff, him and you +both've been doing a pile of talking." + +"But he done told some fellers he'd get me inside forty-eight hours." + +"I reckon you'd better keep out of his way, then, Jeff." + +"But look here, Johnson--oh, pshaw, let's talk sense. He's made threats, +I tell you. I done got a permit from the justice of the peace to pack a +gun. Turner, he give it to me for my own protection." + +"Well?" + +"Well? WELL? What're you going to do about it? That's what I want to +know. You're sheriff, ain't you?" + +My friend lighted a cigarette from the stub of another. Afterwards he +studied the nails of his fingers with elaborate interest. A protracted +pause, and he addressed a casual remark to me as though Thomas were not +present. + +"Cut that, Johnson. I'm a-talking to you. What're you going to do about +it?" + +On this, the sheriff whirled sharply in his chair. He clipped his words, +so that each seemed to snap. + +"I'll show you what I'll do. You two yellow pups start something, and +I'll show you what I'll do." + +Daniel Boone folded his cards and stole softly out of the room. I looked +furtively for a sheltering nook. Only the shiny top of the bartender's +bald head was now visible above a beer keg. But either Thomas did not +want a row, or he could not afford one. + +"Well," he said finally, with an uncertain laugh, "that's different +again, ain't it? There's no use getting all swelled up about this thing, +Lafe. Let's have a snort." + +When the ceremony had been fitly observed, Thomas seated himself at the +third table in the saloon, in no very good humor, and removed his hat. +Shortly Daniel Boone returned, padding in like a wary cat, and resumed +his interrupted studies of faro and its uses. We settled once more to +our talk and piled the dominoes in unreckoned combinations. + +The main door opens directly from the saloon on to the street. At the +far end of the bar is another door, which leads into a dining-room that +is run as an annex to the Fashion. Jeff occupied the table nearest the +bar, sitting sideways to it so as to face the entrance. Back of him was +a doorless exit, which gave on to a dark passage. This led somewhere +into the outer back-regions and was in frequent demand when a patron +found himself overcome by the fumes of rejoicing and desired air, +without publicity. + +In the corner remote from the street Mr. Boone was established, his legs +embracing the legs of a chair, and he placidly dealt cards to an +imaginary player. The sheriff and I were in the left foreground, close +enough to the window to see through it, had a curtain not been +discreetly drawn to the height of a grown man's head. + +Tilly entered from the dining-room, patting her hair with both hands, +and tarried for an instant at the bar, talking to the man behind it. She +waited on table in the Fashion annex, and was not without charm, both of +person and mind. Indeed, her repartee would set a room to laughing, +being forceful as a clout on the head; which may have been why she was +sought after by sundry residents of those parts for wife. Whence she +came or why, nobody knew. Badger held her for an honest girl, in spite +of what Tilly's unchampioned contact with the world had done to rub off +the first blush. Leaving the bartender choking with delight, Tilly +sauntered over to Jeff's table, where she pretended to examine the +snake-skin band of his hat. We saw her speak to him, but could not catch +the words. He glanced up alertly and gave an emphatic nod. + +"Well, well," murmured the sheriff, and smiled. When she had gone back +to the dining-room--pausing to exchange a last cheerful sally with her +friend of the bottles--the sheriff said: "Dan, there's a mighty fine +girl. Or I reckon I ought to say 'woman.' If she'd only got a different +start--" + +"What about it?" + +"You can see for yourself. She's getting tougher in her talk every day. +If Tilly don't hitch up soon--why, look at the way these fellers are +running after her--" + +"But," I said, for I had faith in Tilly, "they're all crazy about her. +Don't you fret. That girl's the gamest girl I ever saw, Lafe. She can +take care of herself. Sure they run after her. They all want to marry +her." + +"Some of 'em do--yes--but--" he broke off and considered for a moment. +"Did I ever tell you how Bud Walton run it over that big Slim Terry? He +done run him out of town. Slim was awful stuck on Tilly, too." + +"What did Tilly do?" + +"What could she do? She wouldn't believe it first when Bud told her. +Then she swore most dreadful. She slapped Bud's face, too--a little +later, this was." + +A boy shoved his head inside the saloon and peered all about. It was +Turner's youngest son, an urchin of about twelve years. + +"Say, Mr. Johnson," he piped, "Sam wants you over to the express office +right away. He says he cain't leave, so for you to come." + +"All right, Tommy, boy. You run home quick and draw some water for your +ma. Drag it, now." The head withdrew. "This ain't no place for a boy to +be round. Sam ought to have more sense. Wait here, Dan. I'll be back in +a shake." + +The sheriff rose and stretched himself, with a yawn. Then he went out +and crossed the street. + +Daniel Boone was blowing through his loose, thick lips, as he sorted the +cards. The bartender read a much-thumbed letter, and I builded a fort of +my pile of dominoes. We heard a firm, swift chink of spur rowels, and +Bud Walton strode into the Fashion. + +"So," he said. "Now, I've got you." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +AN INQUEST AND A SURPRISE + + +I was looking toward Thomas at the moment. His face blanched, but his +hand sped to his breast, where a gun was secreted in a holster sewed to +the inside of his shirt bosom. Before he could draw, Walton pulled on +him once. This much I saw and then dived under the table. There came +another shot. Bud stood a second or two, with a sort of wondering, +puzzled look in his eyes. He swayed and sank gently to the floor, almost +within touch of his enemy. + +Jeff lurched to his feet and leaned over the fallen man. He fired twice +in quick succession, but his hand shook so that the bullets tore +splinters in the boarding at either side of Walton. Then he desisted and +stood waiting, the six-shooter hanging limply from his fingers. + +"There," he said, as the sheriff ran in. "You see, I've done it. I've +killed the bastard." + +The sheriff knelt beside Bud and turned him over. Walton was shot +through the forehead and must have been dead before he hit the floor. + +"Hem," said the sheriff. He got up and requested the surrender of +Jeff's gun, which was given up without question. Johnson inspected it +with care. + +"You fired three, hey, Jeff?" + +"Three," answered the other, his gaze fixed on the body. + +The sheriff was scrutinizing the six-shooter and its empty chambers. He +scratched his head. Thomas turned to the bar. His nostrils were +straining and there was an unnatural distension of the eye-balls. + +"Gimme a drink," he said. + +Daniel Boone emerged from the corner where he had thrown himself flat, +and the Fashion filled with men. They grouped in a semi-circle about the +corpse and regarded it soberly. + +"You're under arrest, Jeff," said the sheriff. + +"Sure." + +"Gentlemen, I'll have to ask you-all to leave. Clear the bar, gentlemen, +please. The inquest'll be to-morrow morning over in Bob Turner's place. +Step lively, gentlemen. I've got a pile of things to do." + +I was shoved from the saloon with the others and went only too +willingly. Shortly afterwards three men bore the remains of Walton out +of the Fashion and laid them in an empty room above Turner's store. The +proprietor was justice of the peace and would sit as coroner. + +Badger filled the court-room on the morrow. The crowd overflowed into +the street, and there was much jostling and frantic efforts at peering +over the heads of neighbors; also, requests to witnesses to speak +louder, that all might hear. Follows a rough transcript of the evidence +presented. + +Bartender.--It was ten o'clock. There was nobody in the bar except Dan +Boone--he was playing solitaire in the far corner--and Jeff Thomas, and +a fat party unknown to him. The fat party had come in with the sheriff +and sat over against the window. Jeff was alone and was monkeying with +his fingers on the table--sort of playing tunes. He, the bartender, was +reading a letter from a lady who lived in Silver City--a right nice, +respectable lady--when Bud came in on the jump. He yelled something at +Jeff and they took to shooting. That's all he saw, because he hid behind +the beer-keg immediately. Yes, he had heard shots. Four, he thought, but +he could not be sure. The bartender rubbed his bald spot and added that +there seemed to be five, but he would not swear to that--they came so +fast. + +Daniel Boone.--He had seen nothing at all, but had heard shots. No, he +could not say how many. Then, when the sheriff came back, he saw Bud +Walton lying dead and Jeff standing over him, a little to one side. + +Myself.--A boy had summoned the sheriff to the express office while he +and I were seated in the Fashion, playing dominoes. Soon afterwards a +man entered quickly--yes, it was the man whose body lay upstairs--and +yelled at Thomas that he had got him now. Thomas was alone at a table +in the center of the room. He was strumming with his fingers on the +table. The visitor fired first; then there was another shot, and he +dropped to the floor. After he fell, Thomas shot twice. He missed him +both times. + +Tommy Turner.--Bud Walton had sent him with a message to the sheriff in +the Fashion. The message was that Lafe was wanted at the express office +right away. + +Thereupon the coroner requested the survivor for his version of the +fight. + +Jeff Thomas.--He was waiting in the Fashion for one of the Lazy L boys +to come along. They had a horse trade on. Bud Walton appeared at the +door. He pulled a gun on him. Bud got the first shot in--he was positive +of that. He fired once and Walton went down. Not being certain Bud was +really done for, he pulled a couple of times more, but thought he had +missed. + +Yes, they had long been enemies. Walton was always abusing him behind +his back. He had made threats. Some of his friends had strung up Tom +Rooker, too. Tom wouldn't never harm a fly in his life. Only the day +before, Bud had told some men Jeff knew, that he would get Thomas within +forty-eight hours. So witness had asked for a permit to carry a gun. Mr. +Turner knew about this. He had given the permit. + +The coroner.--"Did you expect him last night?" + +Thomas hesitated perceptibly. "Yes, I did," he said. + +"What made you?" + +"Somebody tipped me off he might be coming. I'd rather not say who it +was." + +Coroner.--"Where did Walton's shot go?" + +"Here," said the prisoner. + +He fished in his pocket and drew out a Bible. The crowd craned their +necks and swayed toward it eagerly. + +"Why, that's mine," the coroner said. + +It was, in truth, one that Bob had carried off as a Sunday School prize, +when a boy, in Ohio. It was so stiff that the cover cracked when it was +opened; but the leather binding was ripped and torn, and the leaves were +plowed into pulp for three-fourths of its thickness. At this point the +sheriff explained that the bullet had been deflected into the solid wood +of the table. He had dug it out. + +Coroner.--"Where did you get this here book?" + +The gunfighter looked rather sheepish. + +"I'm sort of superstitious," he confessed, "and when I seen that in your +office the other day, Bob, I stuck it inside my shirt." + +A murmur swept over the court-room and beat against the walls. + +Coroner.--"You've killed six men, ain't you?" + +"No, sir; you're wrong. Only four," Thomas corrected, licking his dry +lips. + +"Gen'l'men," said the coroner, not without sternness toward Thomas, +"this hits me like so plain a case of shooting in self-defense, that I +reckon we don't need to bother no more about the evidence." + +"Hold on," the sheriff said. "Hold on, there; I'd like for to say +something." + +Being duly sworn, he started off like this: "Gentlemen, this wasn't a +killing. It was a murder." + +Everybody waited open-mouthed to hear more. Thomas turned on him a +quick, startled glance. Then someone said: "What's the matter with you, +Lafe?" + +"It's just what I done said. Murder." + +There was a stir, and a ripple of unbelieving laughter. "Order!" the +coroner cried. He was looking to Johnson for explanation. + +"I was kind of wondering," the prisoner muttered, half aloud, as though +not altogether surprised at the turn of events. + +"Yes, sir, Bud Walton was murdered. This man here didn't kill him at +all. Here's Jeff's gun. Take a look at it. It's a .45. Bud, he was +killed with a 30-30 rifle. Here's the bullet. Jeff's first shot went way +above his head into the ceiling, and the next two are in the boards." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A JOURNEY TO SATAN'S KINGDOM + + +"What're you giving us?" "Go on, Lafe." "Hush, let's hear him." "Quit +crowding there, will you?" "Say, are you looking for trouble?" "Well, +quit it." It was long before quiet could be obtained. + +The sheriff waited for absolute silence before taking up the thread of +his explanation again. Then he said, slowly scanning the faces around +him--"Mr. Coroner, if you'll adjourn this here court for two days, I'll +bring the murderer here." + +The inquest adjourned in confusion. Thomas was released, only to be +rearrested. + +"I'll learn fellers like you a lesson," the sheriff told him. "Bob, give +him thirty days for stealing that there Bible of yours." + +The justice of the peace imposed the sentence with alacrity. It had the +appearance of spite, but Jeff exhibited no resentment and left for the +county town in charge of a deputy, without a word of protest. To me, he +appeared a broken man. + +Not a word of enlightenment would the sheriff give, although all Badger +was agog with excitement and babbled questions wherever he moved. They +would cling to his arm in their eagerness, but he shook them off. At +dinner, he ordered me to fetch my horse, for he planned a hard ride. + +It was early afternoon when we set out for Satan's Kingdom. Our way took +us through the Willows, which we threaded at dusk. We were passing a +certain pile of rocks, when the sheriff pointed with his forefinger. + +"Look," he said. + +The Mother of Cottonwoods towered above the lesser trees, plain to the +sight. She was black and stark, bare as though blasted by lightning. We +jogged along mutely. + +"Look a-here," the sheriff said, as we neared the mountain village, "you +done heard that shooting. What did you hear? Tell me as near as you +can." + +I strove to focus all my faculties on the task. + +"There was a first shot--that must have been Bud's." + +"Never mind whose it was," said Johnson. + +"Then there seemed to be two very close together. I'm not sure about +that, Lafe, because it might have been one, sort of drawn out. But I was +watching Jeff's hand and it looked only half-way out of his shirt when +that second shot started." + +"Good. How did it sound?" + +"Well, she began with more of a ring to her--sharper than a +six-shooter--and she ended heavily, just like a .45." + +"Sure," he said, with great satisfaction. "That was the 30-30. It just +beat Jeff to the mark. Why didn't you tell that at the inquest?" + +"I wasn't sure," I answered lamely. "Nobody would have believed me, +anyway." + +"So you think a feller ought to tell only what he figures folks will +believe? Well, it don't matter. Don't get hot. Listen. We'll bring back +the feller who shot Bud, to-night or to-morrow. He was hiding in that +dark hall back of Thomas, just waiting for a chance. As quick as I saw +the hole in Bud's head, I said to myself, 'A .45 never made that, son.' +No, sir; I sure knew that 30-30 mark." + +"How did you know where it came from?" + +"That's easy. Bud was shot in front, wasn't he? Well, Jeff didn't do it, +so I hunted in that passage to find out who did. Sure enough, a feller +had braced himself with his hand on the wall. He was a powerful big +brute, too--more'n six feet high, easy." + +The sheriff chuckled, pleased as a boy with his own astuteness. + +"Say, Dan, it's almost funny the way things turn out. Ol' Miguel, the +lazy rascal, he done left a tin of axle grease on a shelf beside the +back door, and when this feller come in and went sneaking along the +hall, a-feeling his way so as not to make a noise, he stuck his hand +into it. Then he leaned with that hand bracing him, while he waited for +Bud. Do you get that? That was the hand he leaned on. Wouldn't that most +scare you? That gives his size away. Why couldn't his luck have made him +lean with the other hand? I tell you, it makes a man think." + +He would not talk more on the subject and evinced impatience when +pressed. We put up at Kelley's place in the Kingdom, and the sheriff had +a few words with Kelley himself before we ate a meal specially prepared +for us. + +"No, he ain't here just now," Kelley said. "He done rode off just after +supper. But he'll be here in the morning for breakfast. I hope there +ain't nothing wrong, Lafe?" + +"No-oo. We just want a talk, that's all. Don't tell him, Kelley." + +There were half a dozen persons at the table when we took our places not +long after daylight. Three were prospectors, one was a cowboy, and a +miner sat next him. Opposite me was a long, lank, youthful-appearing +man, who consumed his food with his nose very close to his plate. He had +little to say, except when he desired something. + +Now, if a man be a lusty trencherman, or if he wolf his food, either by +tearing or the process of inhalation, we never pass direct criticism. +That might hurt his feelings and the sensibilities of the other diners. +No; instead, one glances good-naturedly about the board to pick up the +eyes, and remarks in a slow, modulated tone--"Say, ol' Bill here don't +eat enough to fatten a hog, does he?" + +The sheriff watched this individual intently for a space. His scrutiny +made me uneasy, although it is true that the gentleman's table manners +were offensive. Then he leaned toward him and remarked, smilingly: "Say, +you don't eat enough to fatten a steer, do you?" + +I expected an outbreak. The long person raised his eyes and a sickly +smile overspread his face. And then I knew what manner of man we had to +deal with. Because, when a man of pluck receives a blow that hurts, he +first looks serious and perhaps thoughtful; that is followed by a +determined squaring of the jaw. At last he said, essaying a sneer: + +"I reckon you've got the world by the tail with a down-hill pull, ain't +you?" + +"Perhaps," said Johnson. "I've got you, anyhow, Slim. You're under +arrest. Finish that coffee and come on." + +"Who're you?" the other asked slowly. + +"The sheriff of Badger." + +"Well, I ain't sorry. I'll go along," was the reply. + +On the morning of the second day, another coroner's inquest sat in +Badger. Slim Terry faced it. A greenish pallor showed near his eyes and +around the corners of his mouth, but he talked composedly. + +Coroner.--"Did you shoot Bud Walton?" + +"Yes." + +"Tell us about it." + +The prisoner passed a hand over his forehead and down to his chin, as +though to clear his thoughts. + +"This feller Walton, judge, he done run me out of Badger. First, though, +he run me out of the Fashion. I ain't been in this town for six months +till the day of the shooting. Yes, I was scared of him. I ain't a +fighter, gen'l'men. I come in that day, because somebody done sent for +me." + +Coroner.--"Who sent for you?" + +Slim pondered this question. "I ain't a-going to tell that," he said. +"Well, I laid quiet at ol' Raphael's place on the aidge of town until +dark, and then I sneaked up back of the Fashion. Nobody seen me. +Somebody'd told me Bud Walton would likely do for Thomas there that +night, and I figured to get him from that back hall in the mixup. One of +us was sure to nail him." + +"Who told you this?" + +"I ain't a-going to tell. I've said that twice already, Mr. Turner, so +you needn't ask me. Well, I waited in the hall there, standing mighty +quiet. I seen Thomas at the table and a fat gen'l'man over near the +window with the sheriff here. I didn't know he was the sheriff then. By +and by a boy come in and the sheriff went out. Then all at once Bud +Walton run in at the door and pulled a gun. And then I let him have it. +I plugged him square. Couldn't miss at that distance. What'd you say, +judge? No; nobody seen me. I run out into the lot back of the Fashion +and got on my horse. I've been at the Kingdom most of the time since, +but I wasn't trying to hide out. How did you find out, Mr. Johnson?" + +The audience in the court-room listened to this recital with scant +sympathy. Their disapproval was obvious. Even the sheriff appeared a +trifle ashamed of his prisoner. + +"Did you have any other reason, Terry, for shooting this man?" asked the +coroner. + +"No, sir. He done run me off, and I was afraid he would kill me some +day, the same as he'd done to a lot of others. So I plugged him--there +in the Fashion." + +"It's a lie. He's lying, judge," cried a treble voice at the door. + +The crowd wavered and split apart, and a woman broke through and +confronted the coroner. It was Tilly, the waitress at the annex. Her +hair was disordered and hung in lank wisps about her face, but she gave +no thought to that. With her red arms bare to the elbow, and her cheeks +flabby and pale from fright, she took position squarely in front of +Turner. She tried to speak, but gasped for breath. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A WAITRESS TO THE RESCUE + + +"Order in the court!" shouted the coroner. + +"That man there--him, Slim Terry--he's lying to you, judge. Yes. He is. +He's lying. He didn't kill Bud. He's lying, judge. He is; honest." + +"Who killed him then?" said the coroner. The sheriff walked over and +stood beside the girl. + +"I did. I shot him. I--" + +"Tilly, you're crazy. Stop her, sheriff. She ain't telling the truth. +She's--" The prisoner made to shove her back. + +"Order in the court!" Turner roared. + +"Listen to me. I'm going to tell you. Yes, I am. I'm going to tell." + +"Silence, gentlemen. Let's hear what she's got to say," the sheriff +ordered. + +"I knew Bud Walton was coming to the Fashion that night to look for Jeff +Thomas." Tilly told her story gustfully, her voice shrill. "Yes, I knew +it. I told Jeff so. Why shouldn't I? Bud told me. He'd been drinking the +night before. That man sitting there was my fellow. He came to see me +that afternoon, and I had to hide him in ol' Raphael's house like any +dog. All because of Bud Walton. Yes." + +"Go on. Quiet, please." + +"Slim, he wanted to shoot Bud himself. So would you, judge, if you knew. +But I said no. Do you know why he wanted to shoot? I'll tell you. Bud +Walton was bad. Yes. He was. He was a bad man. He asked me to marry him, +and when I laughed, he said he'd take me anyhow. Yes. That is what he +said. He was bad. And I got afraid. He done run Slim out of town last +year and there was nobody--oh, don't let 'em all stare at me that way, +judge. I'm telling the truth. Before God, I am." + +"Go on," said Turner huskily. + +"I was in the hall with Slim. I let him in at the door. Yes, I did. It +was locked. We had a rifle and we stood there. I had often shot at +prairie-dogs with the rifle when me and Slim would go riding together. +Slim, he couldn't never hit a barn door. No wonder he was scared of Bud. +It's true--true as gospel, judge. He couldn't have killed him. No. I +made him put both hands against the wall and then I rested the gun on +his shoulder. Yes. I did. Bud Walton was bad. He was a bad man. When I +saw him, I pulled quick. And then I shut my eyes. And then--I don't +rightly remember after that. That's the truth. It's all true, every +word. Yes. It is. Slim, he went away--and now--oh, oh, oh." + +She rocked on her feet, her hands over her eyes. + +"Order in the court! Order in the court!" the coroner bawled, though you +could have heard a man gulp. + +The sheriff took Tilly by the arm and led her away. He permitted Slim to +come with them. + +"Gen'l'men," said Turner, clearing his throat as he rose from his chair, +"this court stands adjourned. Bud, he just died. That's good enough for +him." + +The next morning the sheriff called on Tilly at the Fashion and told her +to don her best bib and tucker with all speed. + +"I'd a heap rather go to this here Slim party's funeral, Tilly," he +said, "but I suppose you've got to have him. So get a move on. I reckon +Badger can stake you to a wedding." + +Naught cared Tilly for this genial slight on her lover. She had +him--that was sufficient for her. A woman does not need to respect a man +in order to love him devotedly. Moist of face, but radiant, she +presented herself before Lafe within an hour. + +And to what a wedding did Badger stake the waitress! The entire town +seemed to regard it as a public event in which every citizen had a +personal interest and a duty to perform; and they did it nobly. Tilly +was deluged with gifts, ranging from a Book of Common Prayer to a heifer +calf, which the donor assured her would one day develop into a fine +milch cow and feed all the little Terrys. + +Lafe took upon himself the conduct of the proceedings. And in the course +of them he became so wrought up that he made a speech, a faculty for +which had hitherto been unsuspected in the sheriff. He started off by +saying it would not be much of a speech, and he was correct. Yet such +was his fervor that Tilly cried for the fifth time that day, and her +husband gulped until his Adam's apple threatened to jump out of his +throat, as he gripped Johnson's hand. + +A strict adherence to facts compels the admission that there was a very +considerable consumption of liquor on this day. You see, nothing is ever +consummated in Badger, from a sale of steers or a horse trade, to a +wedding in the season, without a certain indulgence of this nature. + +For, in the course of human events and in pursuit of that liberty and +happiness which constitute the inalienable right of every citizen, a man +is apt, from time to time, to get drunk. Nobody in Badger ever held it +against him--far from it. Let that then be the excuse for sundry +estimable gentlemen who felt badly the morning after Tilly's marriage. +Let that explain the presence of the justice of the peace and the +sheriff of Badger and Dr. Armstrong, when they foregathered in the +Fashion before breakfast, to compare symptoms and to contrive means by +which they might last through another sun. Indeed, convivial relaxation +was regarded in Badger as incidental to male existence, however rarely +these "benders," as they were termed in local parlance, might be +tempered by discretion. + +Yet there have always been certain unwritten rules governing bouts with +Care, and if a man broke them in Badger, he became either a social +outcast or an inmate of the calaboose, which was worse. The calaboose +was once a livery stable and has never entirely got over it. + +This qualifying statement is by way of leading up to happenings that +wrought a regeneration in Lafe Johnson and changed the whole course of +his life. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE SHERIFF SETTLES A CONJUGAL DISPUTE + + +About a year after the killing of Bud Walton, the sheriff was engaged +one day in a game of pitch in the Fashion. Order in Badger had been +excellent of late. This had not been accomplished by moral suasion, +although that had been a factor, but by stern and often fearless +performance of duty in quelling disorders. Johnson's reputation had +grown apace. He always knew the precise moment to strike, which +effectually nipped many threatening feuds. + +On this day, Sellers Hardin stopped his stage in front of the Fashion +and inquired for the sheriff. + +"Say, Lafe," he said, "there's a guy over to the Cowboys' Rest bawling +his wife out powerful strong. I'd sure have smeared the road with that +gen'l'man, only it weren't my business. Hey? Yes, I left 'em over there. +They come off that El Paso train, the two of 'em." + +"I'll step across," said the sheriff. + +He threw down his cards and walked over to the rival saloon. The +landlord, who had long forgiven the blow on the head and was now a +staunch Johnson man, nodded at him and paused in his work of polishing +glasses to point to the door of a rear room with the towel. Inside, a +loud voice was raised in maudlin harangue. + +"You come along now. I'll show you. You bet we'll stay here. What? I'll +learn you who's boss right now. Didn't I send you your fare? Huh? And +you done come ahead on the jump. But you're too good for me now all of a +sudden, ain't you? I'll--" + +Lafe found a man denouncing a young woman. She sat near the window, and +showed no fear as she watched him storm up and down the floor, pouring +out reproaches and abuse. She was pale, but perfectly collected, and she +rested her chin in her palm, regarding her companion with a species of +impersonal speculation. He was a florid, youthful person of very baggy +clothes and with his hair parted in the middle. The shoulders of his +coat projected beyond his real shoulders to an astonishing width, and he +wore peg-top trousers; also, his shoes had beautiful sloping heels and +flowing bows. An intense, nervous irritability kept his arms jerking +about. She listened placidly. + +"If you don't quit your fooling and come along with me--" he was saying, +when she cautioned: "There's somebody behind you." He wheeled and beheld +the sheriff. + +"What's the trouble here?" Lafe asked. + +"None of your business. That's what. When we want any help in a fam'ly +dispute, we'll send for you." + +The sheriff, by way of answer, selected a chair and placed his hat +carefully on the floor. + +"You're drunk," he said, with the utmost good-nature. "Let's be +friendly, now, and get this thing settled." + +Beyond a faint curiosity, the girl exhibited no interest in his arrival, +but her companion planted himself in front of Johnson, with his feet +wide apart, and made a strong effort to look threatening. + +"Well, I'll be doggoned," he said. "Who're you, anyway? What do you +think you're doing, butting into my private affairs this way? Ain't a +man boss of his own wife? Ain't I got any rights? You get out now, +before I throw you out." + +"This here party," Lafe said to her in a confidential aside, "is fixing +to throw me into the road. He sure will, too. You can see that sticking +out all over him. What do you want that I should do?" + +"You don't look very scared." + +"No, ma'am. I always try to hide my feelings. Do you reckon you can +handle him yourself, or will I take him along?" + +"Say, you! You pay attention to--" + +"Where'll you take him?" she asked. + +"Look a-here, you two--" + +"We've got a nice, peaceful lockup, where the rats is friendly," +answered the sheriff. "He won't be lonely. There's a Mexican there +right now, drunker'n he is." + +She shrugged her shoulders and looked out of the window. "Suit +yourself," she said. + +"Say," cried the gentleman of the peg-tops, "ain't I got anything to say +in this? You're getting too gay, you two. Do you hear? Ain't a man got +any rights in this country? I can run my wife alone, can't I?" + +"Does this here party belong to you, ma'am? Are you his wife?" + +"No." + +"What? You ain't? You sit there and say you ain't my wife? Why--" + +"I married him, but I'm not his wife." + +"Sure," said the sheriff, "I see. I don't blame you, ma'am." He put on +his hat. The other was watching him doubtfully. + +"You come along with me," said Lafe. + +"Come along, my foot. What do you think you are, anyway?" + +"That's all right. I'm sheriff here. And if I wasn't, I'd take you +along. It's one of the rules of this here town that a man can't talk to +his wife like you done. Understand? Get a-going, now. I'm liable to get +peevish directly." + +Still he hesitated. Lafe was growing angry. His rage always seemed +sudden, but this was by design. In reality it was the release of +long-pent and controlled passion. + +Said the sheriff: "Hurry up, Harris." + +"My name ain't Harris. It's Jackson." + +"Jackson or Harris, it's all the same to me. You were Harris when me and +Buf'lo Jim done run you out of Cananea. I reckon you ain't forgot that, +have you?" + +A quick glimmer of recognition showed that Mr. Harris had not. He +sobered with amazing celerity. + +"Where're we going?" he asked. + +"You get moving first," said the sheriff, "and then we'll figure on +that." + +"I won't go," was the emphatic rejoinder. "No, sir; not me. Tell him to +leave us alone, Hetty. I'm within my rights. And you're framing up +something. I can tell." + +"Say, Harris, you're fixing to get hurt awful bad." The sheriff's air +was regretful. He stepped to the door and held it open, nodding at +Jackson. That young man gave him a swift look and banged his hat down +over his curling bang. Without even a word to the girl, who was +regarding the tableau much as a spectator from a seat in the stalls, he +walked out. The sheriff followed. Within a minute he stuck his head +inside again to say: "I'll be back right away." She made no response. + +The two walked out to the residence of Dutch Annie, Johnson a yard in +advance. + +Dutch Annie said: "Don't you bring that rat in here, Mr. Johnson." + +She was a forceful woman, of startling precision of speech. Annie would +not open the door, but surveyed the abject Harris through a crack about +two inches wide. The sheriff kept the toe of his boot inside, to prevent +Dutch Annie slamming it against them. + +"I'm not here to make trouble for you, Annie," he hastened to say, "but +just take a look at this feller. Ain't you seen him before?" + +"Huh! I reckon so. He done married Sarah last year and run off and left +her on my hands. Hush--best to get away quiet. If she hears he's here, +there'll be no holding of Sarah." + +"That's all," said Lafe, and the door banged in their faces. + +"Now," he said to Harris, "you hit for foreign shores. I start shooting +at forty. Quick." + +This does not pretend to be an exact reproduction of the sheriff's +speech, because he had an honest man's loathing and contempt for this +kind of male. But it is the gist of his words. The procurer made the +first hundred yards in fifteen seconds flat, so the sheriff speeded his +count, lest he get out of range. The satisfaction was accorded him of +dusting Jackson's heels as he ran, and Lafe repaired to the Cowboys' +Rest in a better frame of mind. + +"She ain't here," the landlord told him. "She's done gone." + +The sheriff found her at the Fashion. "You reckon you're a married +woman, I take it, ma'am?'" he inquired cheerily. + +"I married him in El Paso. Yes, I had to. He'd paid my fare. Yes, I do." + +"Well, you ain't," said Lafe. "He's got one wife already that I know of, +that fine gen'l'man, and probably bunches more, besides." + +She thought this over for a minute. There was no surprise; neither was +there any of the joy he had anticipated; and no sign of reaction or +tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +AND HETTY COMES TO BADGER TO LIVE + + +"Where is she?" she asked. + +"Who? This wife? Oh, over beyond. Not so very far from here. You won't +never see her," was the careless reply. + +Again she appeared to ponder what he said. A slight shiver was quickly +repressed. At last: "So that's what he is? You reckon--" + +"Where's your outfit, ma'am?" the sheriff interrupted. + +"My trunk? It's here. I've taken a room." + +They were in the parlor of the Fashion, one flight above the street. It +was sumptuously furnished, the proprietor taking pride in his +establishment--a red plush sofa, a table, three chairs, and a +cottage-organ. On the wall was a chromo lithograph of a girl clinging to +a wave-swept pillar of stone. This was entitled "Rock of Ages." + +Thereupon she told him her story. Of course Lafe did not believe half of +what she said, although he gave ear gravely to her direct manner of +replying to his questions. The girl's self-possession and cool disregard +of the extremity to which she was reduced, suggested only one +explanation to his mind--ripe experience. He had never encountered these +traits among ladies of domestic virtues. + +Her name was Hetty Ferrier, and Miss Ferrier had exactly eleven dollars +and seventy cents. She had lived in Eau Claire, but went to Chicago to +make a fortune and to marry a rich, handsome youth, as girls starting +out in the world invariably do. There she got a job in a department +store, where they paid her four dollars and a half a week to keep soul +and body together, though subsequently little consideration was shown +for her soul. When she parried the assistant manager's attentions she +was removed from the lace counter to the hardware department, but she +did not care. Then she fell ill; for breakfast foods, wetted with watery +milk and eaten in a room opening on hot, slate roofs, are not a +sustaining diet when one stands all day on one's feet. So she was sent +back home from the hospital. And her parents were miserably poor. Her +father had borrowed the money to bring her home. She began reading +advertisements again, and finally answered one of the matrimonial +variety. + +That was all. This man Jackson replied to her, and his letters were very +nice--those of a perfect gentleman, Miss Ferrier assured the sheriff. +Then he sent the money, and she journeyed to El Paso. He was not what +she had expected, but he treated her decently when he met her at the +train. Furthermore, he could be very amusing and "splendid company," she +said; so she went through a ceremony with him. After that he went away +to get tickets, and when he came back, he was drunk. She was frightened +and sat up all night in a day coach, and he went to sleep in a Pullman, +waking up sometimes to order the porter to tell her to go to sleep at +once. When they got out, he said they would take the stage to Badger, +where he had some business to transact, and then go on to Nogales. + +The sheriff pressed for fuller information. Had she no friends while +working in the city? Yes, she knew some of the girls, but they were +always scheming for a good time, and she never had any money. The nicest +ones lived at home, but not all of them. Several young men had been kind +to her and had taken her to theaters. But they usually tried to get +fresh, said Miss Ferrier. Some appeared to have heaps of money, but +others worked for it as she did, only they spent it with princely +recklessness on pay night. + +There was one--she came to a full stop. Yes, she would tell him about +that one, too. He was very poor. Indeed, he dressed so shabbily that the +girls tittered when he called to meet her at the employés' entrance. No; +he treated her all right and was always respectful. She liked him +because he was very good, and different. He was a student and was +working his way through college by waiting in a dining-hall. They had +hoped to marry some day. Then she got sick and went home. It would have +taken years, anyway. She seemed never to have regarded the prospect +with much hope. + +"Uh-huh!" said the sheriff, when she had finished. "And what do you aim +to do now?" + +"I don't know. What can I do? Get a job as waitress, I guess." + +She appeared undistressed by the prospect, but it was the apathy of +countless failures and physical exhaustion. + +"No," he said with decision. "You're a heap too pretty for that." + +"You think so?" she asked indifferently. + +"You bet I do." It was Lafe Johnson who was talking now, and not the +sheriff of Badger. They were alone in the parlor. He watched her for a +moment. Her profile was turned to him and her attitude was one of tired +acquiescence with the stress of her situation. He hitched his chair +forward close to hers. + +"Say," he said, lowering his voice, "you forget this here Harris and all +that, and throw in with me. I'll treat you good." + +"How--throw in with you?" + +"Why, you know. I'll take you over to a li'l' place I've got beyond the +Willows. It's right pretty. We'll--" + +"I wonder," said Miss Ferrier, without a trace of resentment, "I wonder +if there's more than one man on earth who isn't a brute?" + +"I don't take you, ma'am." + +"What difference is there between you and the others? How're you better +than this fellow you ran off--this Jackson?" she demanded, with her +first display of animation. "You've got nothing on him." + +"Say, you quit that. Quit that right now. I don't make my living--" + +"And neither do I, Mr. Johnson. So put that in your pipe and smoke it." + +She jumped to her feet and went out before he could prevent her. Johnson +heard the bolt of her room jerked into place, and then he went +downstairs, whistling a casual air. The barkeeper brought a tried +judgment to bear on these symptoms and furtively closed one eye at the +proprietor. + +"Humph," said Lafe, when he was outside and walking toward the cattle +company's corral. "She can give any woman I ever done met up with, cards +and spades at a bluff." + +Yet he was seized of qualms. It was the first time in his tenure of +office that the man had triumphed over the official in any respect +whatsoever. He had done his work with a single eye to duty, and without +prejudice; and he had done it well. Nor was he given to pursuit of this +nature. The girl made a tremendous physical appeal to him, and of course +all that about the assistant manager and those other fellows was pure +fiction. Lafe knew women of her stamp better than that. + +He was low in spirits all afternoon, and about sunset invaded the bar of +the Cowboys' Rest. + +"I'm going to get pickled," he announced, "not real drunk, you +understand. Nothing vulgar, but just nice and quiet. Here's my gun. I +reckon Badger'll run itself for a day or two." + +"It's sure a-coming to you, Lafe," said the landlord. "You've been sober +for a right smart spell." + +In the morning he felt very rocky, for the refreshment they provide in +Badger would stagger the oldest man in the world; and he could hear +bands playing in unlooked-for places. So he gave over in disgust all +thought of further carnival and went to the Fashion for breakfast, +knowing of old that a hearty meal would set him right. + +Miss Ferrier waited on him. So she had secured the job! The barkeeper +told Lafe that she got it so quick it made his hair curl, and she was +sure a waitress. + +"She's got the rollers under the ol' man," he said. "He'll eat out of +her hand. Say, business ought to pick up. Don't you reckon?" + +Assuredly it did. All the unattached men of Badger developed a taste for +the corncakes served at the Fashion. One of the Anvil boys happened to +ride into town for a new pair of boots, and took dinner there. What he +narrated on his return kept an entire outfit sleepless far into the +night, planning methods of getting a day off, and it is on record that +twenty-seven extra meals were served in as many days to gentlemen who +smelled healthily of horse and walked to a merry jingle of spurs. Hetty +treated all alike and was a paragon of waitresses. All aspired to be +admirers. The majority were shy and ill at ease, given to staring at the +menu with glassy, uncomprehending eyes; but there did not lack doughty +ones. They lost their courage completely, however, when it came to +finishing what they began, in face of her calmly amused smile. + +Yet she did not come off scatheless. They were lavish in their +invitations, and horses were thrust at her as gifts, like so many boxes +of chocolates. She was anxious to learn to bestride a horse, and when +she had acquired the knack, Hetty readily accepted several proposals for +rides up the valley. Then she abruptly discontinued them; for, fired by +what they had heard, her escorts grew bold. Two she repulsed +successfully, and followed that up with lashings of a quirt, but the +third achieved her waist and lips. He got small satisfaction for his +trouble. Her chilling surrender to his kiss when she felt herself +helpless, took all the eagerness of the conqueror out of him. The cowboy +was miserably penitent on the way home and later announced that he would +bet everything he had, inclusive of socks, that Miss Ferrier was the +finest girl in town and could lay it over any lady of his acquaintance. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE SHERIFF ENSNARED + + +Evidently the feminine portion of the population did not agree with him. +One was openly hostile--a Mrs. Garland. But she may not have been +unprejudiced, for her maiden name had been Grace Hawes. For some +reason--not unconnected with her manner of arrival in Badger--the +married women fought shy of Hetty and kept their daughters rigidly +aloof. She perceived this quickly enough--long before the men remarked +it--and accepted it as she did everything else, with a species of +passive disdain. + +"What for do you let these here fellers get off them bum jokes?" said +Lafe suddenly, one day at dinner. He was in high dudgeon. The sheriff +was a regular boarder at the Fashion now, but seldom did he offer a word +to the waitress, or she one to him. + +"If it amuses them, let 'em do it. It don't hurt me," she said, +unruffled. + +"Yes it does, too, hurt you. Say, you'd ought to wear a high collar." + +"You mind your own business," Hetty cried hotly and flushed to the tips +of her ears. + +The white, white column of her neck was always bare, for she knew its +beauty full as well as did anybody else and wore her dress cut low +accordingly; and Mr. Johnson had noted with consuming rage that it held +the rapt gaze of the diners. Indeed, she was a strapping, fine woman. +Black hair, heavy black eye-brows, blue eyes and a dazzling skin--they +made an unusual combination. Hetty carried herself fearlessly erect. Her +figure was full but supple, and she walked as if her body held +inexhaustible reserves of strength. + +He said no more then, but later broke out with the stunning declaration +that waiting on table was no fit job for a lady--not with a lot of lazy +loafers round, especially. His proposition was that she get out of the +Fashion and go to live with the Widow Brown, who was a nice, respectable +woman, and would be company for her. And the sheriff would see that she +got a job of some sort. Or perhaps she would like to go on a visit to +Mrs. Floyd, whose husband owned the Lazy L range. He would secure her an +invitation. + +"You're awful kind, aren't you?" she said. "You make me think of Bessie +and her fellow, you do." + +Lafe intimated that these individuals were unknown to him, but he fain +would hear more. + +"Why, this fellow of Bessie's--Bess worked next to me at the store--he +wanted to reform her, he said--Bess was really too fly." + +"Well? Why shouldn't he?" + +"Huh! Reform her!" said Miss Ferrier. "He only wanted to keep everybody +else away." + +"She's tough." Lafe assured himself of this again and again as he went +home. "She's mighty tough; yes, sir. Else she couldn't talk that away. +And them friends of hers. A city's a rotten place." + +Of course, he, too, asked her to go riding. She thanked him, but +refused. + +"I'll treat you proper," he said. + +"You can bank on it you will. But I won't go. No, thanks." + +A silver heart he purchased for her, together with an enormously long +chain, was returned without a syllable of explanation, although the gift +was dispatched anonymously. The sheriff was much chagrined. Hetty did +her task above criticism when he was at table, but all efforts to +establish a friendlier footing met with rebuffs. + +"I'll be doggoned if you ain't nicer to these here other fellers than +you are to me," said Lafe, after a fortnight of this. + +"Why shouldn't I be?" + +"Why shouldn't--? I swan I don't know." + +The admission was wrung from him slowly, and he appeared to be deep in +thought during the remainder of the meal. His manner thenceforward took +on a grave, distant politeness that Hetty found peculiarly galling. +Meanwhile, the world wagged on about as usual. + +One day he listened with a very bad grace to certain compliments paid by +a puncher to Hetty. He considered them to be in execrable taste, +probably because her badinage in reply lacked its usual sting. He +frowned sullenly, and Mr. Johnson's reputation was such that this surly +demeanor greatly disconcerted her admirer, much to Hetty's annoyance. +The sheriff lingered after the others had risen from the table. + +"I'll find out right now," he said determinedly. + +Hetty happened to lean over his shoulder to remove some dishes. With a +dexterous twist, he pinioned her arms and kissed her full on the mouth. +She was quite passive under it, gazing steadily into his eyes when he +paused. + +"Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself," was all she said. + +"I ain't complaining," he answered thickly. Yet he released her. + +A bad week followed for Lafe. He was irascible, quick to snap up a word, +which was foreign to him. So insulting was his behavior that the +landlord of the Fashion feared he would have to shoot Lafe some day when +he caught him without a gun. + +The sheriff occupied a two-roomed frame shack on the edge of town. It +was a cheerless hole of a place. His barn, where he kept his three +horses, was inviting by comparison. Often of nights he paced the bare +floor of the bedroom, and more than once the faint dawn was whitening +the windows, and the cocks of all Badger were lustily heralding the +sun, before he threw himself down to sleep. One evening he deposited his +lantern on a chair and sat down in another beside it, and in that +half-light tried to reason out the whole problem. About midnight he +threw away his cigarette and prepared for bed. + +"Well," he said, ruffling the sheet with his toes, "I give in. She may +be worse'n ol' Dutch Annie, but I've got to have her. That's all there +is to that." + +He sought Hetty next evening after her work was done at the Fashion. She +was standing in the rear doorway of the annex. + +"I want you to marry me," he began. + +"You do, do you? I suppose you think you're doing something mighty fine +to ask me, don't you?" A slight color rose in her cheeks. + +"Never mind what I think. I can't do without you. It must be love, I +reckon, though it ain't what I thought that was. But I want you to marry +me, anyhow. Will you?" + +"No, I won't," she said. + +"Yes, you will, too." + +"I wouldn't marry you, Lafe Johnson, if you were the last man on top of +earth." She turned indoors. + +The sheriff went home, very quiet indeed. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HOW HE WON A WIFE + + +Three days passed, and they were much the same as before. Then, on a +sunshiny morning, the sheriff strolled back from the bar of the Fashion +to glance into the dining-room, minded to seek another interview. Hetty +was sitting by a window. Her face was red and streaked with tears. She +was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. He tiptoed out of the place. + +At dinner Lafe was very brusque and stated his wants with sharpness. +After the diners had departed: "It's a wonder"--pausing to strike a +match--"it's a wonder that there fine young feller of yours don't come +after you. Why don't you write to him?" + +"What fine fellow of mine?" + +"That stoodent feller. If he thought such a heap about you, he ought for +to show it. Ain't you written to him?" + +"Shut up," said Hetty. + +"No, but honest--" + +"Do you think I could write to him after going away without a word +to--to marry a man I'd never set eyes on? You make me sick." + +"I don't think much of him, anyhow," he said stubbornly. + +"I guess he'll be able to live that down," said Hetty. + +"Where does this here party live? A stoodent, you said he was?" + +"Sure"--using her handkerchief again. "He's studying at a dental school +in Chicago. Here's his address." + +The sheriff did not question her further, but eyed the card she +produced, for a long time. That afternoon he spent three sweating hours +over some sheets of blue, ruled paper, with very meager results. Here +they are: + + _Mr. Abner Fish, Chicago, Ill._ + + DEAR SIR: I write to say there's a young lady here as seems to + be in need of friends from home leastways she's powerful lonely + now this here town ain't never had its teeth tended to right + chief reason they never wash them I guess. Ha ha. + + Say if you ain't laid out any plans better come ahead and start + right in here to fix them good. You can come all the way by + train except sixty miles by stage the going is good unless + Sellers happens to get drunk and runs his mules over the rocks + and I'll be pleased to meet you at the terminus, being as I am + sheriff I enclose eighty dollars for expenses which is sort of + coming to you from the town and you can pay it back when you + make it. Well I'll cut this out now it is very hot here. + + Yours respectfully, + + LAFE JOHNSON. + + P. S. The lady's name it is Miss Hetty Ferrier. + +The letter mailed, Johnson took horse and crossed the Border into +Sonora. He did not return for ten days and then went straight to his +house. The Fashion saw him not. He ate at the Cowboys' Rest, but Hetty +knew of his coming an hour after he rode down the street. + +When three meals had been served and eaten without Lafe appearing, she +put on her hat and went boldly to his house. It was afternoon, and +Badger lay in a still, dead torpor under a cruel sky. + +"Well?" said Lafe, standing abashed on the threshold. + +"Abner Fish is coming," she announced, and that was all she could say. + +"Well, I swan. That's a right good thing. He can fix teeth pretty good, +can't he?" + +"Yes--no--that is--he says you sent for him. Oh, Lafe." + +This was a vastly different woman from the one he had known. Hetty would +not look at him, but kept her gaze timidly on a knot in the door and +twiddled a ribbon flaring garishly from her waist. + +"Pshaw!" said the sheriff, "it's most time Badger done woke up. The +doggone rascals, they never take no care of their teeth. I've been +reading some about them things, Miss Ferrier, and it's most scandalous +how sick people'll get if they don't watch out for their teeth. This +book says--" + +"Oh, Lafe." + +"Do you mean to say you don't want him to come?" he asked. His hand, +resting against the doorjamb, began to quiver and jerk. + +"No-oo." + +"God!" + +Hetty was beginning to weep, which was a ridiculous thing to do under +the circumstances. The proceedings subsequent to this wholly reverent +ejaculation of Lafe's were too utterly idiotic for sober recital. When +she had calmed, they stood behind the door, safely out of sight, and the +bosom and shoulder of the sheriff's shirt were moist. + +"No, I can't," Miss Ferrier was saying, in the weakest voice imaginable. +"Everybody knows what a fool I was to come out here to Jackson, and +they'll laugh at you. I couldn't bear that, Lafe." + +"Now, that'd be horrible, wouldn't it?" he said. Then, very quietly: "I +reckon I can take care of my wife, Hetty." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE GUNFIGHTER RETURNS AND DELAYS WEDDING + + +They were to be married in a fortnight. Hetty's preparations were of the +simplest sort. + +"I'll fix my hair the way you like it," she said, laughing. "That's +about all I can do." + +On his part, Lafe wrote to the Floyds and obtained their promise to +come. Mrs. Floyd did not seem to resent this usurpation of the sheriff's +affection, which establishes her rarity beyond question. Then he ordered +some furniture. It was of an inexpensive kind, because he had saved +nothing and had only a month's pay owing to him. The sheriff would not +run into debt, having had a surfeit of its effects when a cowboy. + +Of course he went to call on Hetty every night at the Widow Brown's. +Occasionally he found opportunity to drop around during the day, too. +Hetty had resigned as waitress, and her admirers faded away, for it is +foolish to meddle with another man's girl, when that other is such an +one as Lafe Johnson. And ten or eleven days sped by. + +Then, about eight o'clock on an evening when the sheriff was talking to +Hetty on the Widow Brown's porch, Steve Moffatt ambled into town. He +dismounted quietly in front of the Fashion, walked across to the express +office and stuck a six-shooter under the agent's nose. That official +reasoned swiftly and decided to let him take what he could find. He was +not without pluck, but he was also a very sensible man. There was only +ninety dollars in the safe, and having soundly berated the agent on this +account, Moffatt put it in his pocket and rode out of Badger. He left +the agent bound to a chair and securely gagged. + +"Tell Lafe Johnson good-by for me," Moffatt said at departure. "Give him +and his girl my regards." + +"Thanks," said Lafe politely, when he received them. + +He saddled his horse and put a rifle in the holster. His .45 was always +at his hip, concealed in a leather-lined pocket. + +"I reckon we'll have to put the wedding off a few days, Hetty," he said, +as he bade her good-by. "I've got to leave on the jump. There's no +saying when I'll get back, either." + +It was nearly midnight and very dark. Hetty toyed with his horse's mane. +She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. + +"All right," she said. "Take care of yourself, Lafe." + +The sheriff kissed her and set out. He entered Mexico and struck +southwest. No United States officer had a right to invade Mexican +territory for a criminal, nor to arrest him on Mexican soil, but Johnson +was determined to catch his man first and argue this legal phase of it +afterwards, with Steve safe in the calaboose at Badger. So he opened a +line gate unobserved and galloped through the soft night in pursuit of +Moffatt. + +The days sped by and Hetty received a wire from Lafe, who was now in +Cananea. + +"No luck," it ran. "He's doubled back on me. Hope to pick up trail +here." + +But what transpired in Cananea deserves a place to itself. Even now +Hetty does not like to hear any reference to the subject, and Lafe will +eye her uneasily if it be mentioned. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +JOHNSON MEETS A FRIEND OF HETTY'S + + +Should a man clutch at an imaginary wire that eludes him up the wall +beside his bed, and take to raving and prayer, it raises a doubt as to +recent conduct and habits. Hughie MacFarlane, rancher, age thirty-seven +years, did all this and many other disagreeable things, and then died. + +A considerable number of his acquaintances wagged their heads and +remarked that the world would survive the loss--it was noticeable that +those who had partaken most freely of Hughie's bounty were foremost in +this line of epitaph. Others declaimed the platitude of the +mealy-mouthed, that MacFarlane had been a big-hearted fellow, his own +worst enemy. Within a week after the funeral, nobody in Cananea thought +much about him one way or the other, and certain lapses in his notions +of enjoyment were forgotten, for where there is no jury of public +opinion, men grow tolerant of human frailty, and then lax. That is our +way on the Border. + +So everybody promptly forgot Hughie--all except a flame-headed girl at +the Hotel Carmen, who sniffed a great deal when she leaned over your +shoulder to put the steak and vegetables on the table, and whose voice +was wet when she inquired whether you preferred your eggs straight up or +over. She was not one to tempt a man to boldness, and none had ever +found her desirable; but once, on his way from the bar to the +dining-room, Hughie had given her a rough, laughing embrace. That was +all, on my honor; but Molly remembered and worshiped the unregenerate +creature, according to her nature. Finally she became such a nuisance, +with her red eyes and general dampness of face, that the proprietor +discharged Molly. + +"Hughie was a fine feller when he first came here," Lafe Johnson +remarked, in reference to this episode, "but he got to talking Mexican +too good." + +With which dark assertion he reared his feet to the rail of the Hotel +Carmen veranda and lazily watched the hacks careen past down the hill. +Three weeks had elapsed since he started on the bandit's trail and he +was apparently farther behind him than on the night Moffatt fled. After +two days of close pursuit, during which Moffatt had twice doubled back, +the sheriff had been able to obtain nothing better than rumors. These he +followed up obstinately, and at last they led him to Cananea, where he +rested, awaiting developments. + +It was Sunday, and the cabs were doing a rushing business. Gentlemen of +white skin, gentlemen of olive and brown, crowded into them and departed +with an air of elation. Presently two cabs moved by at a parade pace. +Both were loaded to the axles with bull-fighters in tawdry velvet +trappings. The matador, a person who perspired like a pat of butter on a +warm day, doffed his hat unceasingly to admiring friends on the +sidewalk. It was very hot and the time was noon. + +"I hope that fat one gets horned," said Johnson, comfortably, to his +neighbor. "What? You going to the fight? I can't stand to see them ol' +hosses ripped. Say, it beats me how white women can go there and sit +through it. They chew gum all over the grand stand, too, them women do. +If my girl--if I had a woman--" + +Incoming guests cut Mr. Johnson off. They arrived off the 10.10 +train--two drummers, and a lank individual, very tanned, and stiff in +his clothes, who proved to be a mining engineer about to start on a +prospecting trip, and a woman. She was plump and had brown hair, and her +dress was of deepest mourning. That much Lafe noted as she stepped from +the cab, and he took his feet down and removed the cigar from his mouth. +She rustled up the steps and hurried inside without bestowing more than +a flurried glance on the loungers. + +Johnson was still resting there an hour later, meditating, when the +landlord came out and held the screen open with a fine show of courtesy. + +"Say, Lafe, I want you to shake hands with Mrs. MacFarlane," said the +Hotel Carmen man. "This here lady's Hughie's wife. She wants to go out +to the ranch. Mr. Johnson's sheriff of Badger, ma'am. It's like you've +heard of him." + +"I'll be right glad to look after you, ma'am," Johnson said soberly, +shoving his chair forward. + +Mrs. MacFarlane smiled in a manner curiously shy for a widow of thirty, +and murmured something to the effect that she knew Mr. Johnson had been +a friend of her Hugh's. This was not strictly true, but Lafe would not +have denied it to her for a herd of graded stuff. He leaned against the +railing and waited patiently to learn her wishes. She had come to claim +Hughie's estate and to make certain that his--grave--here she started to +cry soundlessly into a handkerchief--received proper care. All this was +very painful and Johnson stirred restlessly. Whenever Mrs. MacFarlane +made reference to her late husband, it was always as her "boy," and the +tone was one of such restrained adoration that Lafe experienced a +sinking feeling beneath his vest. Listening to her--she was decently +reserved and her talk escaped in snatches--he gathered that Hughie had +been a great and noble man, which was an estimate of Hughie that never +would have occurred to any of his acquaintances. + +"The feller must have had a heap of good in him somewhere, Buf'lo," he +told Shortredge that night. Jim was now engaged in the slaughtering +business in Cananea. "A man can't make a woman like her care that a-way +else." + +"I don't know about that, Lafe. I don't know about that. I ain't so +shore," said his friend. "It's most amazing how they kin forget +everything when he's gone. They only remember li'l' things he done for +'em; things what a feller might do for a yallow dawg." + +The trip across the mountains was a full day's drive, and Johnson was to +call for Mrs. MacFarlane at dawn with a buckboard and a mule team. She +kept him waiting forty minutes, but he passed the time patiently, +recalling that a certain female in Badger was wont to do the same thing. +This recollection brought a grin to his countenance, and may have been +responsible for the solicitous manner with which he seated Mrs. +MacFarlane in the vehicle. They set out at the sober gait suited to a +wearing drive. The landlord, after watching them for a while, remarked +thoughtfully to the barkeeper that he hoped they would find everything +all right. + +"Hughie ought for to have told us he was married," he said slowly. "Yes. +He ought. I sure hope they'll find everything all right. She's an +almighty fine woman." + +The almighty fine woman settled back against the stiff leather seat and +looked at the bleak wastes they were threading. Johnson eased his mules +down the slopes, taking rare heed of the going. Ordinarily she would +have been in terror of the perils of this climb-and-drop road, but the +driver appeared to entertain no doubts and merely clucked at the +hybrids or abused them in emotionless harangues. It must have begotten +confidence, for she gave no more than the tiniest squeak when they shot +abruptly from a shelf of rock and sped downward at a gallop, the +buckboard leaping off rocks and ruts and banging at the mules' legs. +There was a sharp curve at the bottom of the descent, and for a wild +moment Mrs. MacFarlane wondered if it were possible he perceived this. + +"The brake's done bust," said Lafe, as though the matter were scarcely +worth mention. + +They took the curve on two wheels, sending sand and pebbles in all +directions, and he pulled the team to a halt. Then he got out, handing +the reins to her, for which she beamed on him. Johnson repaired the +brakes with a bit of wood and some rope, and they went forward again. + +"I done told ol' Biggerstaff that this brake was no good," he said. + +"I'd mention it to him again," Mrs. MacFarlane suggested mildly. + +He was very grateful, too, because she forbore to grab at the reins more +than once in dangerous spots. The sparkling air and the stern beauty of +the mountain country they entered seemed to soothe her. Soon she was +chatting vivaciously, but when the sun climbed to his strength, her lids +drooped. The talk became broken and lazily intimate. Suddenly Mrs. +MacFarlane sat up with a gasp. + +"Why, I've just remembered. How on earth did I ever forget it? Hetty +Ferrier!" + +The widow pronounced Hetty's name as a magician would a talisman. Lafe +went very red in the face and asked in a constrained voice whether she +knew that lady. + +"Know her? I guess I do. Why, Hetty and my young sister were playmates. +She used to live where I come from. We heard from her and she told us--" + +Mrs. MacFarlane did not state what Hetty had told them, but settled +herself to study Lafe, with the privileged frankness conferred by her +information. He bore the scrutiny well, giving all his attention to the +mules, but he was thankful for the bumps that distracted the widow and +made her clutch his elbow to avoid being thrown out. + +"Isn't it funny I shouldn't have thought about you and her before? It's +a small world, isn't it? Of course she told me you were sheriff of +Badger. You're a very lucky man, Mr. Johnson," she said. + +Lafe could find no words for the moment. At last: "You see, ma'am, her +and me are fixing to get married." + +"Huh!" said the widow. "Did you think I didn't know that? How is Hetty?" + +"She's fine, thanks." + +"I don't need to ask if she's happy?" + +"Happy as the dealer in a big jackpot," said the sheriff, much pleased. +The widow appeared to comprehend. + +They drew near the ranch in late afternoon. The light is of a peculiar, +velvety yellow then, and the mountains grow purple along their bases; +farther up there are deep blue blurs; and the ragged rims show black +against a glow. The widow exclaimed in rapture; then, apparently +remembering her bereavement, assumed a look of sadness; and she made the +last few miles of the journey in a gentle melancholy. + +Nobody appeared to welcome them. A tipsy Mexican lolled in a chair on +the veranda, and another was making music for him on a guitar. From time +to time the man in the rocker would nod approval and command a fresh +tune. Near the corrals, about twenty natives were hi-yi-ing at the +breaking of a horse. + +When the majordomo perceived the buckboard, he put down his cup +reluctantly, placed the bottle beside the leg of the chair and came to +meet them. Lafe saw at once that a fortnight of authority and freedom +from restraint had played havoc with the man. Nevertheless, he greeted +them suavely, and when he learned who the passenger was, cried an order +over his shoulder. Three or four men ran to take the mules. + +"Aren't there any whites on the place?" asked Mrs. MacFarlane uneasily. + +"Hughie, he done fired them all. Pete Harris used to be boss here, but +him and Hughie had words over something, and Pete got his time." + +Johnson did not consider it necessary to add that the veteran Pete's +antipathy to all-native labor had been responsible for this rupture with +MacFarlane, and that the vaquero playing the guitar still held his job, +although Pete had incontinently discharged him months before. Nor did he +mention that the man with the guitar had a sister. As to that, he had +heard nothing but rumors, and he was never inclined to believe half of +what he heard. + +Hughie's old servant, Salazar, waited on the two at supper. He had a +shrewd notion that Lafe was the lady's admirer, with an eye to the +property; but what booted it? All through the meal he watched Mrs. +MacFarlane stolidly and addressed her as "Seņorita," which was a brainy +proceeding. However, he told Paula in the kitchen that she was Hughie's +wife and a ravishingly beautiful woman. The girl received the +intelligence with somber calm. + +Twice she came out on to the veranda where they sat afterwards--once to +fill the water bag; again, to draw from it. Mrs. MacFarlane asked who +she was, her age, and where her mother was. She obtained evasive +answers, but was too abstracted to give thought to what might have +troubled her at any other time. + +"She's so pretty--so awfully pretty. Are they all as beautiful as that?" + +"No-oo. I should say not. Paula, she's got most of 'em hiding out in +the long grass," said Lafe, without enthusiasm. + +There is a quality about a southwest night that saddens, or elevates +above all petty trouble, according to temperament and conditions of +health. Moreover, it can make everyday worries seem trivial, which +surely is a God-given thing. As the languid dust thickened, Mrs. +MacFarlane grew depressed. The silence became longer and her replies +punctilious. Soon she bade him good-night. The drive had made her very +sleepy, she said. Johnson started down to the Mexican quarters. A dance +was in progress there, and it was impossible to say to what lengths the +revelers might go unless convinced that authority slept under +headquarters' roof. + +As he stepped down, he became aware that someone leaned against a +shade-tree in the yard. It was Paula, and she was watching Mrs. +MacFarlane's lighted window. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A SACRIFICE AND ITS PUNISHMENT + + +Salazar was not on hand at breakfast, having contracted a sickness in +the head during a dispute at the ball. Paula brought in the dishes. She +fixed her solemn, round eyes on Mrs. MacFarlane and Johnson could read a +questioning in their limpid steadiness. Once she spoke sharply. He gave +a curt answer and appeared perturbed. + +"What does she want?" asked Hughie's widow. + +"Nothing, ma'am. It ain't anything." + +"She looks angry," Mrs. MacFarlane persisted. + +"No-oo. She says the toast is burned. That's all." + +"Nonsense. The toast's delicious," said the widow. + +They went on with the meal. Hanging above the sideboard was a portrait +of Hughie. It was a wretched thing in crayon, framed in wide gilt of +sumptuous design, but the drawing had been a gift to MacFarlane from a +friend in the cow business, and accordingly he had allotted it a place +of honor. The widow saw this at breakfast for the first time. Hughie's +face wore a simper, but the likeness must have recalled him in tender +moods, for two large tears gathered on her cheeks and slid slowly +downward. + +Paula, entering with fried eggs, noted the direction of her gaze and +saw, also, the tears splash on the widow's plate. Mrs. MacFarlane was +extracting a handkerchief from her sleeve and she smiled wanly at the +girl to intimate that the matter of the toast really did not weigh in +the least. It was kindly meant, but Paula failed altogether to +understand. She dropped the platter and began to jabber. It is of no +importance what she said. At her first words Johnson jumped up, but she +pushed him back into his seat and cried names at Hughie's widow it was +lucky that good lady knew not the meaning of. She crooked her fingers +under Mrs. MacFarlane's nose, and when the widow tried, in her +astonishment and indignation, to rise from the table, Paula seized a +plate. Lafe pinned her arms. There was a tremendous to-do for a few +minutes, with Paula shrilling and tugging. + +After the first shock, the widow regarded the girl's struggles without +apprehension. Lafe contrived to drag Paula from the room. In the +kitchen, her access of rage evaporated swiftly, and she sobbed, her face +buried in her arms against the wall. Johnson returned, panting. + +"Now," Mrs. MacFarlane said steadily, "I want to know what this means." + +This was natural enough, and Lafe had been thinking faster than he had +ever thought in his life. He began an elaborate dissertation on +standards along the Border--how different they were to those back east. +It was in his mind to persuade the widow that men were apt to depart +from the charted paths when removed from the compelling force of an +established moral sentiment. That would give him a chance to lead up to +Hughie's backsliding by easy stages. + +Such was his plan. It might have worked smoothly with any other woman, +or done by a man of readier wit. But as he looked into Mrs. MacFarlane's +face, the affair assumed a different aspect to Lafe. He could not tear +down the image of Hughie she had builded and kneeled to during eleven +years. There came a tremor in his voice and his speech trailed off into +weak incoherencies. He paused, braced himself and started again. + +"That's better," said Mrs. MacFarlane, very white, and deadly quiet. +"That sounds more manly." + +Once squared away to his task, Johnson did it well. He showed an amazing +aptitude for lying. Looking the outraged widow straight in the eye, he +lied--lied gloriously--so that, as she heard him, Mrs. MacFarlane +gradually shrank back. She appeared to expand and grow taller in her +contempt--to Lafe she seemed to fill the room--but when he deftly added +a picturesque touch about Paula deluding herself with the suspicion that +Mrs. MacFarlane and himself were much too friendly--he told her this +with a savage zest--the widow exclaimed, "The very idea! Oh, the +creature!" + +"And you were Hughie's friend?" she remarked when he had ended. Of +course, that was the monstrous side of this affair. + +"Well, you see, ma'am, him and me--" + +"And Hetty Ferrier!" + +Now, Lafe had forgotten Hetty in all this. Had Mrs. MacFarlane been a +wiser woman, she might have read a different story from his eyes in that +instant. + +"It's my duty to tell her, Mr. Johnson," Mrs. MacFarlane went on, +sustained by that sense of moral obligation which overtakes us all in +dealing with our friends' private affairs. + +"It ain't right, ma'am," said Lafe. "It ain't proper that a girl should +hear such things." + +"Ho, indeed!" the widow sniffed. "It isn't, hey? We'll see about that. I +suppose Hetty's a baby? And let a sweet girl like her marry a man like +you?" + +"You aim to tell her, Miz MacFarlane?" + +"I certainly shall." + +"Wait. Hold on a minute," he begged. + +"There's nothing you can say, Mr. Johnson. I won't listen. Good-by. It +won't be necessary for you to drive me back. I will get Salazar. No, I +don't want to hear anything more. I won't listen. I've heard too much +already. That will do, please. Let me by." + +She swept past him as though marching on a citadel, and Johnson +withdrew, limp and wretched. Indeed, he looked and felt, at the moment, +the thing Mrs. MacFarlane thought he was. There obtains a notion that an +innocent man's innocence will shine from his face like the sun breaking +through clouds. It is a comfortable thought. The facts, however, are +that he is very likely to show much bewilderment under sudden +accusation, whereas the hardy scoundrel will summon up the most +blighting wrath when brought face to face with his misdoings. + +Hughie's widow retired to her room, where, with a photograph of Hughie +on the table in front of her, she had a long cry. Then she sat down and +wrote to Hetty Ferrier, lest she be swerved from her high purpose by +subsequent happenings, or neglect it through bad memory. Salazar +received orders to hitch the team to take her back to town, and the +majordomo promised that Paula would be sent back to her mother, who +lived on the far side of Tepitate. Her conscience serene, Mrs. +MacFarlane gave the majordomo some money for the girl, which the +majordomo pocketed against a holiday in the city. As he intended to +marry Paula some day, it may be that he regarded this as dowry and +consequently his own. Then the widow drove back to the Hotel Carmen, and +a week later boarded the train for the homeward journey. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +BUFFALO JIM GIVES WISE COUNSEL + + +Johnson departed the ranch like a sneak-thief, keeping well off the +trail for fear he should be overtaken by Mrs. MacFarlane and further +humiliated by a blank stare. He wanted to take counsel of Buffalo Jim, +who now lived in Cananea, as I have said, among drying hides and the +fresh carcasses of steers. If you follow a road out of this city--the +wood haulers use it, for the most part, with their laden burros--you +will descend a mesa by wide sweeps and run slap against a slaughter +house. There are corrals and stables also, and a thousand carrion crows +will acknowledge your coming by a reluctant lifting of wings. Here +Lafe's friend resided and slew thirty head daily for beef. Perhaps his +occupation contributed to the study of human problems--killing things is +a serious business--at any rate, Buffalo really knew all that a man may +know in this life. + +He took an extremely pessimistic view of Johnson's prospects. Of course, +the girl would believe Mrs. MacFarlane. That was only natural. A woman +might stick to a man through every crime in the calendar against his +fellow men, and still hold faith in him; but when another woman entered +into the plot, it was time for a new deal; he was as good as done for, +then. Thus spake Buffalo Jim. He advised Lafe, however, to write Hetty +without delay. By so doing, he might forestall the widow and prepare the +young lady. + +"It'll sort of give the widow woman your dust," he explained, "and then +she's liable to make a bad throw." + +Accordingly, Johnson went to the Hotel Carmen and sat himself down at a +desk in a corner. He chose some neatly ruled paper and dipped the pen; +everything in due order. After that he coughed and consumed some minutes +in staring fixedly at the blank sheets. He had no heart for this task. +Resolute in all the crises of his man's life, this was beyond him. + +Then he began to write, the pen scratching and sputtering over the page. +The sentences opened with firmness and precision, but gradually slanted +towards the lower corner. First his spurs bothered him, and he took them +off. Next, his neckerchief became sticky and he untied it and left his +shirt collar open. + +"If you keep a-writing much more, Lafe, you'll be naked," said the +landlord critically. + +Some cowboys passed through and invited Johnson to join them, but he +shook them off. At last it was finished. + + _Dear Friend:_ + + How are you? + + I am sitting in a room it is a big room and a lot of loafers + keep coming and going but genrally coming. + + This is to say I am well and doing fine I hope you are well + and doing fine. Say a lady met up with me here a few days ago + who said she knew you ain't that a hot one to spring on me + sudden. She is a right nice lady though she don't care a heap + what I think I reckon she as good as toald me I was a bad egg. + Perhaps I am a bad egg how about it. + + She said she was going to write to you. I done the best that I + could and it don't seem fair it ain't right that you should + hear what she said she was going to write to you and besides it + was all a stall and wasn't true but you musn't tell that to + Mrs. MacFarlane because it would make her feel bad. Hughie he + was a friend of mine but Hughie wasn't of no account in some + ways for he spoke Mex too good now when a man gets that twist + on his r's and begins to hang around with the natives its time + to take a new hand all round because he ain't satisfied with + his color no more. No sirree it don't do to talk the lingo to + good and I make them speak my language which will improve their + morals if they only had some to improve that was what ailed + Hughie but she must not know and so you be careful. I hope I + have made it all clear. + + The heat is fierce to-day I am going to take a little drink + when this is finished I don't take them often only a few with + Buffalo Jim and some of the boys. Do you remember the call down + you done give me about that. Ha ha that was sure a dandy. + + How is it back there in Badger Old Lee is there likely ain't + he. Give him my regards the Widow Brown must be there too give + her my regards. Fred Hall and I used to be thicker than thieves + give him my regards. Say tell him to smoke up and let out a + roar of some kind. + + There is not much round here to tell you about Cal and Tim + tangled and Tim is under doc's care he's pretty sore. I done + told you about them before. Jerry's wife done run off and Jerry + is scared to death she'll come back but perhaps she wont. I + told him to hope for the best because he cant do nothing more + than that. + + Say you'll think I'm trying for to write you a book but I + wanted to get this thing about Mrs. Mac straight so you'd + understand. There's a lot a feller would like to say that he + don't like to say you know how that is and a lot of loafers + hanging round trying to guy you. But a feller thinks a lot + sometimes. + + Cattle in good shape and prices right but we need rain bad. I + got to go south to find Steve Moffatt right soon perhaps he + ain't where I think he is but will take a chance. + + Well you must have laid down for a sleep by this time and + wonder when I'm going to cut this out I have written so much. + Don't you pay no attention to what Mrs. MacFarlane says though + she is a right nice lady and I ain't got no hard feelings one + way or the other. Well its about time I quit this well + good-bye. I'd like mighty well to hear how you are. I'll bet + you're looking fine. + + Yours truly, + + LAFE JOHNSON. + +Lafe was master of a loose and flowing hand, which had served him +faithfully on cattle tallies--he was not called upon to make written +reports as sheriff--but made a bulky letter. He dropped this missive, +with many misgivings, into a box, and then took horse for the south. We +will not follow him, because ten days of fourteen hours in the saddle +and a steady diet of beans and tortillas and coffee will grow monotonous +to a refined taste. Moreover, tracking down a thief cannot be of any +interest to us of larger effort. + +In good time the sheriff returned, but of Moffatt he had found no trace. +Immediately upon arrival, he inquired at the telegraph office for +messages, expecting that Haverty would have wired him further +information from Badger. The man behind the counter listened with a +far-away expression and then assured him sadly that there was nothing. +Lafe went away in doubt and returned next morning, insisting that the +telegrapher had made a mistake; a letter received from Haverty spoke of +a wire sent the day of his departure. The official shrugged his +shoulders at this display of bull-headed persistence, so typically +American, and asked him once again for his name. Then, still pensive, he +thumbed over a pile of flimsy. + +"Johnsing, you said?" + +"Sure. Johnson. That's me. I done told you that a thousand times." + +"Ah, yes. Here are two," said the telegrapher, and very deliberately he +smoothed out the messages and delivered them. + +The first dealt with dates of Moffatt's appearances on the Border, so +far as Haverty had been able to learn them. They were nothing but +unconfirmed rumors, and Lafe skimmed over it. The other was unsigned and +he read it several times, the copper hue of his face deepening. + + "Don't worry. Nobody can lie to me about you." + +He thrust this message into his shirt pocket and forgot all about the +reproof he had rehearsed for the telegrapher's benefit. Very jauntily he +exhibited the slip to Buffalo Jim at the slaughter house. That worthy +butcher eyed it gravely, and grunted. + +"She's a daisy," he said, after mature consideration, vaguely aware that +Lafe expected him to say something appropriate. + +"You're damn whistlin'," said Lafe. "What'd I tell you, Buf'lo? She'd +never believe nothing against me." + +"Yes, sir, she's a daisy," Buffalo repeated. "It's like she just tore +up that widow woman's letter and was as sarcastic as hell." + +As Jim said this, he winked at one of the wagon horses. Then he went +leisurely to work again on a piece of harness he was patching. + +"All the same, Lafe," he admonished, "you'd better figure on her +throwing that up to you again. The woman never breathed that wouldn't. +Hey? You mark my words--the first row you have, Hetty'll hand you one +about Paula, first crack out of the box." + +"You don't know her." + +"No, I don't," said Buffalo Jim, "but I've knowed a heap of others." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE SHERIFF PURGES TOWN OF BADGER + + +The sheriff, rather crestfallen, was obliged to return to Badger without +Moffatt. Having lost all trace of him, he was suspicious that the +gunfighter would strike unexpectedly from another direction; perhaps in +Badger itself, relying on Johnson's absence. His acquaintance with +Moffatt had been short, but sufficient to persuade Lafe that he was most +to be feared when nobody knew his whereabouts. + +Arrived in town and refreshed, Lafe went straight to Dutch Annie. Nobody +in the community was especially predisposed toward Moffatt except a few +hangers-on at the Fashion who had enjoyed his largess, and a lady known +as Picnic Kate. Picnic Kate lived with Dutch Annie. Her name suffices to +describe her, and as persons who have no nice friends are unworthy our +consideration, I will let her case rest there. However, the sheriff had +a shrewd notion that if anybody knew, or was apt to learn, anything +concerning Moffatt, Picnic was the individual. + +"I ain't saw him since him and you had that run-in up at the Fashion," +said Kate. + +The sheriff was convinced she was lying, but merely nodded. + +Hetty welcomed him back with some shyness. It puzzled Johnson until he +recalled the date, and then he looked troubled. + +"Hetty," said he, "we've got to put off the wedding again. We can't be +married yet." + +"Why not?" + +The sheriff gave a short laugh. "I don't want you a widow as soon as +you're a wife." + +"What's the matter, Lafe? What do you talk that way for? A widow?" + +"Moffatt's somewhere around here, I'll swear," said the sheriff. "Jeff +Thomas sent me a letter to-day--here, look. He says Steve swears he'll +get me." + +"Well?" + +They were standing in the front room of the Widow Brown's. Lafe sat down +and tried to talk naturally, preferring not to take cognizance of the +probing of Hetty's eyes. + +"You see, hon, Steve is the last of the ol' tough bunch. I'll get him. +It'll only take a few days--something's sure to break right away--don't +look so scared, hon--we'll be married in a month, I bet you." + +Hetty looked down at him like a queen of tragedy in a ten-twenty-thirty +tent show performance. She said slowly: "No, we won't. I've got a +feeling we won't ever be married." + +"Pshaw!" said Johnson. "Don't talk like that." + +"But I feel like that." + +"Women always get ideas like that of yours in their heads. If somebody +looks cross at a feller, they can see a funeral with all his friends +sending Gates Ajar wreaths. No, ma'am. I ain't ready for mine yet +awhile." + +"Why don't you throw it all up?" she asked abruptly. + +"You mean my job? Resign? Quit being sheriff?" + +"Yes, I do. Oh, you're bound to get killed some day. And for heaven's +sake, what is there in it? If things go right--well, that's what they're +supposed to do, anyhow. But if things go wrong, you get blamed." Hetty +spun around to the window when she saw Lafe's expression of amazement. +She gazed out at the ugly, huddled nakedness of Badger, and there was +loathing in her eyes. + +"The place ain't fit for a human to live in." + +"You won't have to stay here long, hon," the sheriff reminded her. + +"But anything's apt to happen before that. We've put it off twice +already." + +"Once," Lafe corrected. + +He rose and stood before her. She kept her face averted, but did not +withdraw her hand when he took it. At last he said: "You'd have me quit? +You'd have me back down when they--all these here people--done put me in +just because they thought I was the best man to clean up this here +place? I don't believe it. Not for a minute, Hetty. It ain't like you." + +"Gunmen aren't the only toughs in this town," she said darkly. + +"I don't take you, ma'am. Oh, you mean--them?" He pointed to the +outskirts of Badger, to the red, tinned roof of Dutch Annie's abode. + +"Yes, I do," said Hetty, flushing. + +The subject was dropped for the time and they fell to discussing +furniture for the house in Hope Caņon. Then, as he bade her good-night, +Lafe remarked in a casual voice, as though the step were routine: "I'll +do that, too." + +"Do what?" + +"Clear out that crowd. There'll be an awful howl all around town, but +I'll do it." + +He had gone a hundred yards when she called him back. + +"Oh, Lafe." + +"What is it?" he asked, returning. + +"That poor creature--Sarah--you remember Jackson?" + +"I thought we agreed not to say nothing about that feller." + +"Yes, but--well, I might--you'll look after her, won't you, Lafe?" + +"Sure. They'll be all right. Don't you worry. Good-night." + +He was very serious as he took his way homeward. What he planned to do +amounted to a moral revolution in Badger, and there would assuredly be +an outcry and a tremendous to-do. True, the town had been purged before. +Once, in the hottest of the hot weather, driven to frenzy by Brother +Ducey's exhortations--he was a genius in choosing the purgatorial months +for his vivid pictures of a living hell--a crowd of citizens had rushed +from the meeting, and, surging across the sand-flats to the +establishment of Dutch Annie's predecessor, had ousted the merry sisters +in the dark of the night. But, as is usual in such cases, reaction from +their zeal was swift and far-reaching. Dutch Annie came and flourished; +and when the citizens of Badger elected Johnson sheriff, no mention of +this cancer in the body social was made in the program of reform. + +Lafe now reflected on these things from a new view-point. His conclusion +was: "It ain't decent. Hetty's got the rights of this, I reckon." + +To many aspects of their Border life, he had given scant thought. Where +much that ought to be viewed with horror is tolerated as an established +factor in communal life by law-abiding people, a man tends to become +complaisant of laxity. Many evils existing in Badger had never struck +the sheriff as such, simply because they had always been; but he was +learning. Little glimpses of Hetty's healthy outlook on things shook his +own code of conduct to its spine and filled him with a species of awe. + +"Let 'em roar," he said firmly. "It'll be a mighty fine wedding present +for her. Besides, it'll make Steve wild." + +The sheriff was an execrable politician, else he would have proceeded +differently. Had he possessed the sagacity of a ward leader, how he +would have corralled the reform vote by going at his task with beating +of drums and a fanfare of announcements. Lafe took quite another method. +He paid a call, in a spirit approaching friendliness, and after some +vehement protests, he departed with a promise extracted. + +Dutch Annie was as good as her word. Next day a little company of +pilgrims boarded the stage, bound for the railway. They looked sadly +worn in the glare of sunlight, in spite of extravagant efforts with the +rouge pot and the powder rag, but they put a brave face on the situation +and exchanged badinage with a few choice spirits gathered to witness the +departure. + +"Well, so long, Lafe," said Dutch Annie, who was a just woman, according +to her lights. "It was right mean, but I reckon you had to do it. And +you've acted the gen'l'man, which is more'n I can say for a lot of +loafers in this here town." + +Sellers cracked his long whip, the mules lurched against their collars +and the stage rattled away. This was the last that Badger ever saw of +Dutch Annie. + +So quietly had the feat been accomplished that the town really did not +awake to the fact until they had gone. Then criticism broke out. + +"I suppose you'd call it the right thing, looked at in a large way, +Lafe," ventured the landlord of the Cowboys' Rest in mild protest. "It's +more religious, in course. But you'd ought to have thunk of some of the +boys." + +Others assumed a violent tone, but these excoriations were delivered +where the sheriff did not hear them. Consequently they hurt neither him +nor those who made them. They held that he had exceeded his duties and +powers; his job was to do what was bidden in the by-laws to preserve +order, not to regulate the private morals of everybody in the town. Man +alive, first thing one knew, Johnson would be breaking up card play, and +it wouldn't be safe for a man to shake dice with a barkeep for the +drinks. Jake Taylor, who had once been a miner, and who had now joined +the leisure classes through inclination rather than fortune, talked +freely of the referendum and recall. + +The sheriff was fully aware of what was being said. Yet it gave him a +new sense of power to feel, also, back of his act, the support of the +better element. They arrayed themselves with him unostentatiously, for +fear of ruptures that might work harm to business. Nevertheless, he knew +their support could be counted on. Indeed, Turner and other substantial +men of the place hastened to assure the sheriff that he had done a brave +thing. Not a word of it did he breathe to Hetty, but when he called for +her to go walking the following night, she was waiting for him at the +gate, and when Johnson saw her smile of understanding and confidence, he +knew he would not repent, whatever might befall. + +"No news of Steve yet," he told her. + +"Oh, Lafe, do be careful. They tell such dreadful things about him. Mrs. +Brown says he could hit a two-bit piece at a hundred yards." + +"Don't. Let's be cheerful," said the sheriff, and laughed. "It'll only +be a few days, hon. I'll get him all right." + +"Well," said Hetty, with a sigh of content, clinging to his arm, +"there's one comfort. If anything ever did happen to you, I'd know it, +if you were in Jericho." + +"How?" he asked, much diverted. + +"Why, you booby, I could feel it. Isn't it strange, Lafe? I feel as if +we'd known each other all our lives. We must have been made for each +other." + +"That's right queer," said the sheriff solemnly. "I often get that +feeling myself." + +As I have a suspicion that other loving young people have talked like +this before, enough of it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A FIGHT IN THE DARK + + +As Lafe was coming from dinner at the Fashion annex next noon, a Mexican +handed him a letter. It was undated and without beginning. + +[Illustration: "As Lafe was coming from dinner ... a Mexican handed him +a letter."] + + Steve's sore. Look out for him. + + ANNIE. + +The sheriff had received so many warnings in his time that he had grown +callous and seldom attached any significance to them, but he knew that +Dutch Annie was not given to foolish alarm. So he tore her note into +minute particles and saw to the oiling of his six-shooter. That was the +only preparation against trouble that Johnson was wont to make. + +The sheriff's two-roomed frame shack was somewhat removed from its +neighbors. It was a full half mile from the Widow's house, where Hetty +lodged. His housekeeping had a fine touch of simplicity. If all things +were favorable, and he had nothing else to do, Lafe would make the bed +once in a while. To do him justice, he had been known to sweep the +place, also. That was not a particularly arduous task, because the +furniture consisted of the bed aforesaid, one chair, one table with +three legs, which stood propped against the wall, and a packing case for +a washstand. + +About seven o'clock that evening he led a spare horse to the Widow's +house and took Hetty for a ride. They talked of the future--soberly, +almost as a staid married couple. She never indulged in coquetry, and +their courtship had not been of the kind to make jealousy of others +expedient or a desirable weapon for her use. After she had dismounted at +the gate: + +"I wish you weren't going. I'm sort of nervous to-night." + +The sheriff smiled down at her. "I reckon you'd best get a glass case to +keep me in, hon." + +"I know it's silly--but you'll be awful careful, won't you, Lafe?" + +"Sure," he said. "There ain't a native in ten counties that likes +getting hurt less'n I do." + +He put the horses up and repaired to the Fashion, for he had it in mind +to ascertain the latest gossip of Moffatt. It was not to be supposed +that a man of the outlaw's temper would take the expulsion of Picnic +Kate from Badger in a spirit of decorous humility. + +The proprietor had it on excellent authority that Steve was far down on +the Baccanochi range, endeavoring to cheat the natives out of a herd of +stock cattle. The sheriff stood at the bar and conversed for a space. + +"You got a new gun, Lafe?" asked the Fashion man, pointing to his belt. + +"No-oo. Just been cleaning this up some." + +The other held out a languid hand and Johnson passed him the gun. It was +a workmanlike .45 Colt, single action, and the hammer rested on an empty +chamber for safety. The Fashion proprietor turned it over with the ease +and appreciation of an expert. He pulled back the hammer and twirled the +chambers. + +"She's a beaut," said he. + +"Yes, that's a right good gun," Lafe agreed. He received it back +carelessly, and slipped it into the holster. They chatted indifferently +for a moment, and Lafe drank a nightcap and started home. + +The night was thick and sticky. Back of the mountains thunder was +muttering. The air clung about him like a soft blanket. Some bull-bats +wheeled above his head. Lafe glanced at the dirty sky and wondered +whether those hurrying wracks of clouds would shed rain. They had a +pitiless habit of holding out hope, only to blow over, leaving the +country gasping. + +His door was shut. It struck him as odd, because he never locked his +house, having nothing of value to safeguard. Inside, it was so black +that the darkness seemed to rise up and buffet him in the face. He +crossed the empty outer room and felt his way to the table against the +far wall. On it stood always an empty bottle, a candle crammed into the +neck. This was the sheriff's light system. + +His hands groped over the rough surface, but he could not find the +candle, nor the matches usually piled close beside. He fumbled in his +pocket--nothing there but some keys and loose silver. + +"Pshaw!" he muttered. "Well, it don't matter. I can undress in the +dark." + +He moved towards the bed. Then he halted and his stomach muscles +contracted. Slowly his head turned to see what was behind. There was +somebody in the room. He stared until his eyes smarted, but could see +nothing. He listened, but could catch no sound. Yet, somewhere close to +him, a living thing moved; he was positive of that. Nobody had ever +questioned Johnson's courage, but now he experienced a peculiar gripping +of the throat and a pringling over all his skin. + +"Who's there?" he asked, and waited. + +"Who's there, I say?" + +Surely there was a faint stirring in the corner, the merest pinpoint of +a sound. The sheriff whipped out his gun. He could descry nothing, but +pointing his forefinger along the barrel to where he thought an object +crouched, he thumbed the hammer. It fell with a click on an empty +chamber. Before he could pull again, a body hurled itself through the +dark on Johnson. + +Instantly he grappled it. A knife thrust was the danger now, and he +locked his arms about his assailant and heaved sideways, driving his hip +against the opposing hip to give momentum to the throw. The other lost +his feet and Lafe swung with all his weight, but they crashed against +the wall, which brought them upstanding. While one could count ten, the +two stood breast to breast, panting. + +The sheriff suddenly brought his right knee upward with force, desirous +of driving it into his opponent's stomach, but the blow was caught on +the thigh, and again they went lurching about the room, gasping for +breath, but voiceless. As he strove to pin the jerking arms, Johnson's +mind ran automatically on the empty chamber. How had the hammer happened +on that? Sure--the Fashion man had done it. + +The discovery gave him new strength. In swift rage he tried for a lower +hold, feeling his enemy weaken. The momentary release of his grip was +enough. The other wrenched one arm free and swung it. Lafe was dimly +conscious of a crash and the tinkle of broken glass. He felt no pain. It +seemed to him that trains were rushing by at high speed, and he was +beset with the idea that he had something to do that he was powerless to +perform. He crumpled up and slid to the floor, his fingers scratching +the boards for the handle of his six-shooter, but all the strength +seemed gone from them. And now, mingling with the roar of the train and +the harsh screaming of brakes, was the rattle of a horse's hoofs. The +sheriff stretched out on his back and sighed. + +The patter of rain on the roof was the first sound that aroused Johnson. +Assuredly the house leaked, for there were warm drops falling on his +face, too. Next, he heard somebody strike a match, and he began to +speculate in a sort of languid wonder as to what a woman was doing there +and what made her cry. Then a shooting pain above the right ear wrung an +exclamation from him and he tried to sit up. + +"Don't. Don't. You must lie still." + +"Hetty," he said. + +She knelt beside him and held a wet handkerchief to the wound. + +"You're hurt bad, Lafe. Don't talk," she whispered. + +"Steve Moffatt--" + +"Yes, I know, dear. Lie still." + +Splinters of a bottle strewed the floor around him. So Moffatt had got +away. The sheriff looked weakly at Hetty. + +"How did you get here?" + +"Hush. You mustn't talk. Keep still and I'll go for Dr. Armstrong." + +"How--?" + +"I heard you calling me," she said. + +"Calling you?" the sheriff repeated. "Why, hon, I never said a word." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CAPTURE OF MOFFATT, THE GUNMAN + + +For more than a month, the sheriff lay sick. Armstrong feared concussion +of the brain, but his diagnosis proved incorrect. And Hetty nursed him +as never a man was nursed before, in that country of rough methods. +Indeed, her devotion was so pronounced that the entire sentiment of +Badger underwent a change. The married ladies came to the tardy +conclusion that Miss Ferrier belonged to the sisterhood of good women; +none of the males had ever doubted it; the whole town paid tribute to +her conduct, and their indignation against the sheriff's assailant waxed +correspondingly. + +At the beginning of the first week of convalescence, the Floyds arrived +in Badger from the Lazy L. Mrs. Floyd was hampered by no scruples on the +score of false modesty; if her husband did not object--if her Tom +understood--what mattered it about the rest of the world? So, straight +to Lafe's bedside she went. + +"Lafe! Dear old Lafe," she exclaimed, when she saw the unnatural pallor +of his face. + +Hetty was standing at the other side of the bed. She tried bravely not +to stiffen towards their visitor when she saw her kneel and take Lafe's +hand, but some subtle sense of divination--or perhaps it was that Mrs. +Floyd was so pretty--made her reception frigid. Mrs. Floyd glanced +quickly into her face, then seized her impetuously, crying: "Don't. Oh, +please don't. Lafe and I were babies together." + +Whereupon the amazed patient beheld Hetty clasp the smaller woman in her +arms, and the two took to weeping. + +This must have been excellent for his complaint, because the sheriff +mended rapidly from that date. It was not long before he went about as +usual, although a long strip of plaster adorned one ear. His first care +was to talk with the proprietor of the Fashion, who said: "The hammer +was on the wrong chamber? Why, Lafe, surely you don't think--" + +That was exactly what the sheriff thought. It ended in the saloonkeeper +leaving town in haste. Then the sheriff set quietly to work to ascertain +whither Moffatt had flown for refuge. It would be so warm for him along +the Border now, that a haven would be difficult. + +"We'd best to wait a mite yet, Hetty," he told his fiancée again. +"Supposing he was to get me? No, no. It's either me or him. So let's +just keep the wedding off a while, hon, and then this'll all be +straightened out." + +"Oh--all right." + +"You see, hon, I want to have a clean slate," he went on rather lamely. +"Don't you understand? Before we get married, I aim to throw up this job +of sheriff and take to running cattle with ol' Horne." + +"Huh-huh." + +"Don't look that way, hon. Steve, he's the last. I'll go get him and +then I'll have done what they put me in for." + +"Oh, of course, if you think more of the people who elected you than you +do of me," said Hetty. + +For a moment he seemed taken aback. Then his face cleared and he swept +Hetty into his arms. + +He did not have long to wait for news of the outlaw. A telegram came +from Floyd of the Lazy L. + + Steve Moffatt in Lost Springs mountains. Heading for the Jug. + Killed Pablo Jiminez to-day while running off bunch of horses. + Horne and I offer five hundred reward for him. + +It was because of this wire that the sheriff rode up a caņon in Lost +Springs on a cool October afternoon. The wind played through the +live-oaks and scrub-cedar and went whistling upward to be lost among the +solemn peaks. Some cattle were watering at a shallow hole. A ground +squirrel scurried across his front. From all about came the soft, +mournful cooing of wild doves. + +All morning he had been climbing. Sometimes he traveled three miles to +gain a mile of distance; winding upward to high mesas, skirting them and +descending into another caņon nearer the summits toward which Moffatt +was heading. + +Presently he was confronted by a wall of rock. It was a sheer thirty +feet in height and water oozed down its face into a small pool. There +seemed no way out and Lafe scanned the cliffs in search of the trail. +While he lolled thus in the saddle, there came a shot from above his +head and his horse winced. Without hesitation he fell to the ground and +scrambled on hands and knees to the shelter of a tree. + +"I near got you that time, Johnson," a clear voice called to him. + +It came from behind the crags above the pool. Then he thought he heard +the ring of a horse's shoe on stone, but he was too cautious to expose +himself at once. For fully an hour he waited, listening for evidence of +his enemy and occasionally sighting along the barrel of his 30-30. Then, +persuaded Moffatt had seized the chance to increase his lead, he +remounted and continued the pursuit. A wale along his mount's shoulder +was the only injury. + +"He's scared, or he could have got me then," said Lafe, examining this +with much satisfaction. + +In late afternoon he threaded a broad caņon and entered on a stretch of +brakes, perhaps six miles in length and one in width. The top of its +numberless bald hills overlooked the caņon's sides. The track he +followed ran along a narrow plateau. At intervals, chalky cliffs dropped +sheer away on his right hand to a depth of two hundred feet, and there +were gaping cavities into which a mountain could have been dumped, +resembling in their formation the craters of extinct volcanoes. Giant +fissures showed in the mounds of salmon-colored clay, and, close beside +him, a yawning void threatened, whence a hundred thousand tons of shale +had slid. Of vegetation there was none here, save a tangle of +prickly-pear at the mouth of a gulch. + +"There he goes now," said the sheriff, pricking his horse. + +Moffatt was nearly a mile ahead and moving leisurely, as though he had +no fear. He topped a rise and waved his hand at Johnson before dipping +out of sight. + +This confidence was partially explained when the sheriff eased his horse +down the declivity that had shut him from view and discovered a break in +the trail. At this point it ended at a huge rock, and split. One part +ran along the base of the rock and then turned back in the direction he +had come. At least it so looked, but he could not see its ultimate +destination because of the broken nature of the country. The other path +made a slight detour and went on, past the rock. + +"Huh-huh," said Johnson, pulling up. "Sure. He's back of me again, the +rascal." + +In spite of an effort by Moffatt to disguise his imprint at the +junction, the trail lay plain to Lafe. It was too old a game for him to +be deceived; had he not once, on a previous hunt, detected Moffatt's +ruse in changing his horse's shoes so that the corks were in front? +Suddenly he uttered an exclamation and got down in the dust on his +hands and knees. There was a second trail, and it was following +Moffatt's. + +It came from beyond the rock, and then changed direction and now +overlapped the outlaw's. Had the two met? It was probable that Moffatt +had come upon a confederate, for this was the region of the Jug, the +rendezvous for fugitives. But why, then, had the two not come to meet +him? + +"That ain't Steve's way," Johnson reflected. "It's like they're laying +for me up the trail a piece." + +Neither did this solution satisfy him. One thing alone about the look of +the two tracks seemed to make the notion of two confederates riding +peacefully in single file untenable. The last rider was going faster +than the other. Then he must be in pursuit. + +Debating these possibilities, the sheriff advanced with caution. +Limestone cliffs soon hemmed him in. He came upon a steer as he crossed +a tiny mountain stream. The animal dashed away, wild as an antelope. +Just before he made the next turn, Johnson glanced back. The steer had +stopped to gaze after him. It would not willingly leave the vicinity of +the water it had come six miles to get. + +The going became so rough that his horse faltered and the sheriff feared +that he might maim himself any moment on the rocks. The way was nothing +but a succession of narrow gorges, leading one into the other and +cluttered with bowlders; ever ascending, the light became more subdued +as the caņon's walls grew steeper and higher. He calculated that he +must be nearing the summits of Lost Springs. + +A shot reverberated among the cliffs in front of him; then another. The +echoes rolled and multiplied. The abrupt detonations startled his mount, +which sprang under the quick, nervous grasp of the knee. A stone gave +under foot, and down came horse and rider with a jolt like a trunk being +dumped from a baggage car. + +The sheriff instantly cheeked his horse, holding his head down by main +strength lest the beast rise and trample him. His foot hung in the +stirrup and the spur was caught in the blanket. There was no need for +this precaution. The poor brute lay where he fell, nostrils quivering +and his breath coming in tearing gasps. Instantly realizing that he was +seriously hurt, Lafe began to extricate himself. He slowly drew his leg +from the boot; free, leaped upward and pinned the horse's head with his +knee. One look at the right foreleg was sufficient. Johnson stuck his +gun to the white star on its forehead and pulled the trigger. + +He was now thoroughly angry. + +"Doggone that scoundrel. I'll go get him if I have to walk barefoot from +here to the Jug," he declared wrathfully. + +A good horse gone, and Moffatt still ahead! Yet he had much to be +thankful for. He was unhurt except for a severe shaking, and a bruise to +his ankle. The sheriff wasted no time on his predicament, but removed +saddle, bridle and blanket from the body and hid them in a hole high up +among rocks. + +The boot came with the saddle, and having tied his handkerchief about +the injured ankle, he went forward again, carrying the rifle in one +hand, the boot in the other. + +He entered a wider gorge, well wooded with post-oak. The ground rose +steeply and the caņon narrowed half a mile ahead to an oval opening +between cliffs. Beyond this towered a solid peak. This was the Jug, the +fastness to which the Border bandits retreated in times of stress. Lafe +peered hard up the caņon and halted to spy out surroundings. From behind +that opening, one determined man could hold off a regiment. + +"I swan," he ejaculated. + +A dead horse, saddled, lay near a fallen tree not twenty yards distant. +It was still bleeding from a wound in the neck. The trappings were old +and patched and repaired with rope, after the fashion of the natives. +This, then, accounted for one of the shots. The sheriff gazed, and +stepped hastily behind a post-oak. + +Something had risen from the ground about a hundred yards beyond. +Peeping round his shelter, he saw that it was another horse, whose +forequarters flopped helplessly as it strove to rise. Instantly he +recognized the markings of the "paint" on which Moffatt had fled. + +"Somebody has beaten me to him," he muttered; then sprang from behind +his tree with ready gun and yelled: "Hi!" + +Close to the far horse two men were struggling on the ground. As he +looked, one rolled uppermost and, wrenching a hand loose, struck with a +knife. A stifled cry came from the man underneath, and the sheriff ran +forward at top speed. + +A Mexican was straddling Moffatt, one hand about his throat. The outlaw +was vainly endeavoring to break the grip with his fingers. The knife was +raised for a second blow, when the native heard the crunch of the +sheriff's boot and turned his head. His expression of raging hate +changed to a look of such absolute amazement that it was almost +ludicrous. Next instant he released Moffatt and scurried away like a +cottontail, zigzagging among the trees as he headed for the Jug. It +would have been an easy matter to bring him down, and for the fraction +of a second Johnson was so inclined. Then: "Pshaw, I ain't looking for +him," he said, and hurried to Moffatt's side. + +"Hello," said Steve weakly, opening his eyes. + +"Are you hurt, Moffatt? Hurt bad?" + +"Pretty bad, I reckon," said the injured man. "He done got me here." + +He placed a hand over his right breast. There was a knife wound high up, +which was bleeding generously, but not enough to cause alarm. Johnson +unfastened the shirt and inspected the cut. It was deep, but the +Mexican's thrust had been diverted and had gone high, toward the +shoulder. Lafe did not think that the lung had been pierced or that +there was internal hemorrhage. He removed the bandage from his ankle, +found some water dripping from crevices in the cliff, bathed and bound +the wound. + +Said Moffatt: "Gee, I wish I had a drink." + +Johnson caught some in his hat, and cooled his face when he had drunk. +The outlaw seemed grateful. + +"You ain't got anything to eat, have you?" he inquired. + +"I reckon you're feeling better? What'd you like? A steak with onions?" + +Moffatt grinned, made a wry face and sat up painfully. + +"Where did that fool Mexican go to?" he asked. + +Lafe pointed to the Jug and opined that they would have to leave him +there. The Jug was too formidable for assault, unless they had urgent +need of him. + +"Pshaw!" exclaimed Moffatt. "He ain't there now. I'll bet he's sneaked +out the back way and is drifting right now. His gun went wrong, or it's +like he'd have got me. No, sir, ol' Jiminez has beat it while the going +was good, you can bet." + +"Jiminez?" the sheriff repeated. "Pablo Jiminez?" + +"His brother," answered Moffatt, and became sullen. + +Johnson said nothing more just then. All was now explained. The Mexican +had cut across country over unfrequented trails to intercept Moffatt at +the Jug, as soon as he had learned of the killing of his brother. They +had been companions on more than one ranch raid for horses, and he had +guessed where Moffatt would seek refuge. + +"Whose horse was shot first?" Lafe demanded, after an interval of +silence, during which he gathered wood for a fire. + +"Mine. Then I got his before he could shoot again. And when he done +fell, he smashed his ol' gun. That was sure some luck." + +"But why," Johnson said, much amazed, "why didn't you get him then? It +ought to have been easy." + +"No kattridges," said Moffatt briefly. + +Shortly afterwards, night coming on, he proposed that Lafe go ahead into +the Jug and make certain Jiminez was not there. If the place were empty, +they could find shelter therein for the night; likewise flour and bacon +and beans, and pots to cook them in. Save for weakness, part of which +was the result of hunger, the outlaw did not appear greatly distressed +from his wound, which had stopped bleeding. + +Accordingly the sheriff approached the oval opening, exercising nice +circumspection. It looked sufficiently peaceful. An acute, carefully +developed instinct for danger told Johnson that none lurked there. + +"Go on," Moffatt called after him. "He can't shoot, anyhow. No gun. +We'll take a chance." + +"_We_ will? This is me. Not you," answered Johnson. + +Then he cried in Mexican a friendly greeting, to be on the safe side in +the event of Jiminez being in hiding, and strode into the Jug. The +opening led into a high and deep cave. It was deserted. In front was a +shallow open space, and here were the ashes of fires and some empty +bottles and old cans. In a remote corner of the cave, under some dirty +sacks, were flour and bacon. + +"Come on," he said, returning. "Let's go. It'll be dark in a minute." + +Propping Moffatt with his shoulder, and an arm about his waist, Lafe +reëntered the Jug. There they spent the night. + +Before the early coyotes had got into full swing in their morning songs, +they were astir and made what breakfast they could. The sheriff was +eager to be gone. Who could say at what moment a pair of desperadoes, +with prior claims on the Jug, might not ride up the trail? In that +event, he knew that Moffatt might be relied upon to act against him, and +Johnson was feeling in no humor for further combat. His prisoner's +shoulder was very stiff and caused him exquisite pain when he moved; +also, he had a slight fever; but these things are borne as visitations +of their profession by such men, and Moffatt never questioned the +sheriff's demand that they start at once. He pursed his lips and +whistled when the darting pains in his shoulder began, but went readily +enough. + +There was a slender ribbon of trail leading from the mouth of the Jug +around the mountain peak and down the other side into a wide draw. By +following it, said Moffatt, they could hit a road which ran south. + +"It's eleven miles to it, though, and--wow--what a country. Say, Lafe, +what're you going to do with me?" + +"You're coming to Badger," replied the sheriff. + +The outlaw gave him a sidelong look. "Oh, well," he said, "if you're set +on it, all right." + +When they had entered the draw after a terrible, sliding descent of the +back trail--during which Lafe often bore his prisoner's entire +weight--Moffatt spoke up again. + +"Got any bread?" said he. + +"You bet. Why?" + +"Well, there's a big ol' mule we turned out here. I done found him last +year down in Zacaton Bottom. He was like to of died, that mule. But I +fixed him up good and packed some bedding and chuck on him way up here. +He's sure been useful, too. You keep your eye skinned and if you see +him, just give him bread. Ridin's cheaper'n walkin'." + +"It sure is. Let's go--easy--that's it." + +The two had covered another mile of the draw, when, behind a tangle of +mesquite, sounded a snort of suspicion. + +"Good boy. Good ol' boy," said Johnson soothingly, advancing with the +bread extended. + +The mule jumped sidewise, hampered by a hobble. He sniffed and the +sheriff followed, with endearing words and blandishments. Would he never +stand still? It was a gaunt animal, with an especially large head. +Probably it smelled the delicacy so rarely enjoyed, because it came +blowing at Lafe's hand. Whilst it munched on the crust, Johnson removed +the hobble and tied the rope around its neck. Then, with a fervent +prayer that the evil latent in every mule might be appeased, he hoisted +Moffatt to his back and clambered up behind him. They headed out of the +draw. + +The sun was three hours high when they struck the road and paused at a +wallow to give their mount a sip of water. Outside the draw he had +obstinately refused to proceed faster than a walk and Lafe's sense of +security was not sufficient to dispute the pace with him. As he lifted +his massive head from drinking, a pair of mules shoved their noses above +a rise and a wagon came into view. A white man was driving. Johnson +waved his hat and shouted a frantic greeting. + +The stage was already descending and the driver could not stop it, +although he laid himself back on the reins in the attempt. The sheriff +regarded him in amazement. Was he gone crazy? When almost opposite, he +let out a whoop and, running out on the pole, cut at the team with his +whip. They went by at a gallop in a cloud of sand. Lafe caught a +fleeting glimpse of the driver's white face and wavering eyes. Then +their mount was seized of the devil; down went his head and he pitched +as only a mule can. Moffatt went off at the first jump; at the third, +Lafe scattered the waters of the wallow. + +The opposite ascent was of soft sand, and before they reached the top, +fatigue compelled the stage team to drop to a walk. The driver looked +back, apprehension showing even in the bend of his neck. The gray mule +had disappeared. Seeing Johnson on foot, helping Moffatt from the +ground, the man threw on the brake and the stage came to a halt. The +sheriff toiled painfully up the hill, holding the suffering outlaw +around the waist. + +"Here," said the driver in a dry voice. "Get in. Get in." + +Together they lifted Steve in. The driver released the brakes and +whipped his mules to a gallop. + +"I swan. I swan," he kept repeating. + +"Why the hell didn't you stop? Hey? What do you mean by running by that +way?" said the sheriff angrily. + +"Runnin' by? Runnin'--why, man alive," croaked the driver, "that doggone +ol' mule you rode used to pull this stage. And he's been daid over a +year." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE WEDDING + + +When in a discursive mood, Badger was wont to say, with the aggressive +local pride common to new communities, that the world had produced three +great men--Julius Caesar, Theodore Roosevelt and Lafe Johnson. They +accorded this ranking to Julius rather reluctantly, he having been a +"foreigner." Imagine, then, their feelings of helpless amazement when +they learned that Lafe was about to leave them. + +"You don't need no sheriff here now," said he. "Things have got so +peaceful that what you want is a dog-catcher and a pound-man. I ain't a +candidate for that job. Go ahead and elect a city marshal, and let him +do the chores when he ain't busy on anything else." + +He was obdurate in this resolution. To his intimates he confessed that +the hazards and journeyings of the office made it unfit for occupancy by +a married man. And, now that Moffatt was safely in jail and the country +cleared of its worst element, he proposed to become a married man. It +was Hetty who steeled him in this resolve, when the pleadings of his +friends and fellow-townsmen appeared to have him wavering. She had her +eyes fixed on Lafe's place beyond the Willows as on a haven of rest, and +the Widow Brown gathered from her conversation that Hetty's notion of a +respectable and happy citizen was a farmer with one hundred and sixty +acres and a flock of children. She mentioned this to Hetty, who grew +crimson and requested her to talk sense. + +So Lafe resigned as sheriff of Badger, and they presented him with a +large watch which ticked so loudly that he could not sleep with it under +his pillow; and several staid, responsible property holders got very +drunk indeed. + +The wedding was fixed for the day following that on which he laid down +the cares of office. He and Hetty were talking over final arrangements +on the eve. + +"I've got a surprise for you," said Lafe. + +"What is it?" + +"Ol' man Horne has bought the Anvil range. He's made me boss, too. A +hundred a month." + +Hetty exclaimed in delight as Johnson proudly exhibited a letter +received quite three weeks before, which he had been holding back in +order to cap his resignation. That made everything smooth and safe for +them. They would have their home in Hope Caņon beyond the Willows, and +good fresh beef and butter and milk. Assuredly Lafe would himself become +a rich cowman some day. Hetty was sure of it. + +Their wedding-morn broke, sullen and muttering like a man heavy with +sleep. Badger kicked off the blankets, sat up to ascertain just what +head it had contracted, and asked hoarsely for an eye-opener. An +eye-opener is a drink of undiluted whisky, gulped down before breakfast. +Then it stepped out into the road, cocked an eye aloft and opined that +the weather looked bad for the sheriff's wedding. They will always call +him "sheriff" in Badger. + +Turner, the storekeeper, announced at a very early hour that it was mere +folly trying to work, and nobody need expect him to attend to business +that day or for several to come, perhaps. Thereupon he shut up shop and +carried a graphophone on to the front porch. It played "In the Shade of +the Old Apple Tree" eleven times, while the express agent's dog squatted +in the road, with its nose tilted back, and howled dismally. + +About noon, nine of the Anvil boys rode into town to grace the occasion. +They had on clean shirts, and their boots were greased and odorous. +Following them came Mr. and Mrs. Horne in a buckboard. The couple had +driven forty miles to do honor to the new range boss, and Mrs. Horne +lost no time in repairing to the Widow Brown's to assist in attiring the +bride. She found that young woman aggravatingly cool--almost placid. +Next there arrived the Floyds, with their son Tommy, now grown to +overalls and boastful talk. + +All the male population of Badger was gathered in the Fashion and in +the Cowboys' Rest across the street. Thither hastened Horne and Floyd to +hearten the sheriff, but they discovered only their own men and a crowd +of merry-makers. Escaping from them in good time, the two sought Turner, +who, as justice of the peace, was to perform the ceremony. The +storekeeper was found crouched behind some goods in the back portion of +his place. He was perspiring profusely. Some fiend in human form had +warned Bob not to mix the burial service with the marriage ceremony, as +he had done on another occasion best forgotten, and the justice of the +peace could not get the fearful idea out of his head. He was therefore +trying to commit as much as possible of the service to memory. + +"You're looking pretty slick, Bob. Where's Lafe?" asked Horne. + +"He's upstairs. I hid him out in that empty room where we keep the +stiffs," said Turner, hastily secreting the book. By "stiffs" he +referred to the custom of holding the bodies of gentlemen who met +violent deaths, until a coroner's jury pronounced on them. + +"That's a good place for him," said Floyd. + +They started upstairs. "Wait," cried Turner. "I'll take him his dinner." + +The trio found Lafe sitting on a stool. He had on a new suit and his +hair was plastered down over his forehead, but despite this brave show, +he was wretched, gazing miserably out of the window into the street, +where numbers of his friends were surging up and down and across. As +they entered, a cowboy topped an outlaw mule and the frenzied shrieks of +encouragement to the rider drew Horne and Floyd and Turner to look. Then +his employer obtained a close view of the sheriff's face. + +"You sick?" he demanded. + +"No-oo. Why?" + +"Then, man alive, brace up. You ain't going to be hung." + +Lafe smiled in ghastly fashion and essayed to eat of the steak and +vegetables which the justice had brought. It was a vain pretense. His +throat was dry and he could not swallow without straining. After +watching him a while, Horne suggested that they all take a drink. + +"I find a touch of rye helps me a heap when I'm poorly," said he. + +To this proposal nobody objected. + +"Got the ring?" said Horne. + +Again the sheriff gave a sickly grin and stuck his forefinger into a +waistcoat pocket. Instantly his face turned a pea-green shade. + +"Why," he exclaimed, "I done put it there not five--" He started going +through every pocket with shaking hands. + +"Jumpin' Jupiter!" said Turner. "You done give me that ring to keep for +you an hour ago, Lafe. He kept taking it out so often to look at it, I +was scared he'd wear it out, Horne." + +In any report of a wedding, it is proper to itemize the plunder. We will +therefore leave the bridegroom and his three tried friends to pass the +remaining hours playing "cold hands" with cards, whilst we take a peep +into the Widow Brown's abode. Hetty is dressing by the aid of Mrs. Horne +and Mrs. Floyd, and no peeping is permissible there. Out upon the +thought! Suffice that she wore that day certain fine linen and fluffy +creations, the like of which the ladies of Badger had never seen and of +whose existence in wardrobes the male residents had no suspicion. Mrs. +Horne was vastly gratified. + +The presents were laid out in the parlor--all but one. That one was +given by the express agent, and was hidden deep in the barn, but rest +assured that it will ultimately be taken to the house in Hope Caņon. +Ever a facetious and far-sighted man, the express agent had sent a +go-cart. + +A piano lamp under a pink glass shade with green bead fringe centered +the display. The fact that it was made for gas--and they would be lucky, +indeed, always to have oil in the Caņon--did not diminish its value in +Hetty's eyes at all. Moreover, there was not a piano in Badger. Somebody +had sent Lafe a silver-plated six-shooter; another, a chromo lithograph +of the prophet Elijah caught up in a chariot of fire. To Hetty had come +shawls and cruetstands, coffee pots and tidies and chair scarfs; also, +plated cake dishes, cutlery and rugs. An erstwhile admirer from the Lazy +L, who had partaken of many meals at the Fashion on her account, sent a +milch cow, and for Lafe came a black saddler from Floyd. This was the +horse that had carried the Lazy L boss across a swollen river on a +certain occasion in which Johnson had figured, and he had often admired +the beast. A very serviceable gift was that from Horne--a check for +fifty dollars. + +"Wilt thou have this woman to--" + +They were standing side by side in the parlor of the Widow Brown's, +under a wedding-bell made of cedar boughs, which was suspended from the +ceiling by a wire. All Lafe's nervousness was gone. His face was stern, +but there was a peaceful light in the eyes that was good to see. +Evidently Mrs. Horne thought so, for she and the Widow Brown cried +softly and without ceasing. The bride was rather pale, but entirely +composed. Only Turner and Horne fidgeted, the latter because his collar +chafed him. Turner skimmed over the words and paused twice to whisper in +an aside that he hoped to the Lord Lafe hadn't forgotten the ring. + +"Wilt thou have this woman to--" + +There was an inward surge, then a break in the ranks of the guests +grouped behind the pair and at the door, and Turner paused with his hand +raised. + +"Hold on there! Hold on," cried a falsetto voice. + +An enormously fat woman lurched through the company and confronted the +groom. A felt hat with a red plume wagged rakishly on top of her head. +She had on a blue calico skirt, and her feet were large and bulbous. +They could not discern her features because of a veil. + +"What's this?" said she in a high-pitched voice. "What's this, Lafe +Johnson?" + +"Ma'am?" said the sheriff. + +"What does this mean? Who is this lady?" + +"I don't take you, ma'am. This lady and me, we're just fixing to get +married. What's the matter?" + +"Matter? Matter?" shrieked the intruder. "You do fine to ask, don't you, +Lafe Johnson? What about me that you left in Abilene, back in Texas? +Hey? How about li'l' Charlie and James, that's the dead image of you? +He's been a-cryin' for you, Lafe. Just after he got over the +measles--oh, you wretch!" + +"Abilene?" repeated the sheriff dully. "Abilene? Charlie and James? Why, +I was never in Abilene longer than half an hour in my life, ma'am. You +can see for yourself--" + +Hetty, who had shrunk back with a startled air at the entrance of the +fat woman, now moved suddenly and pulled up the veil, disclosing the +round, shining visage of the Anvil cook. + +"Why!" said Horne. "If it ain't old Dave!" + +Instead of throwing him into the street or into jail, as he deserved, +the company permitted Dave to retire with honor to the outer circle, +where he divested himself of skirt, waist and plumed hat, and was heard +to entreat one of the boys to help loosen the belt with which he had +painfully compressed his figure for the event. They could hear him +squeal, pretending to be tickled. All agreed that his portrayal of +feminine behavior was a marvel of similitude. + +Neither Lafe nor the bride took the interruption in ill part. The +justice of the peace only appeared chagrined--Turner was in an agony of +fear lest he lose his place--but even he managed to join in the laugh. +The two faced him again. Three minutes later they were man and wife. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE BRIDE IS LOST + + +For reasons of economy there was to be no wedding trip, except the drive +to their home in the Caņon. Later, perhaps, they would journey to some +railroad town to shop, and--come a good year--Lafe would take her to a +Middle West city--"to the East," they called it in Badger. + +A buckboard was in waiting, a pair of spirited young bays straining +against the men who held them. Sheltering Hetty with his body from a +shower of rice and old shoes, the sheriff and his bride sped down the +path from the Widow Brown's. He lifted her into the buckboard and picked +up the reins. Then a cloud of dust swept down on them, and out of the +cloud came a rattle of hoofs. A rope sped, and the sheriff was jerked +off the seat. + +"Help, Horne!" he cried. "They've got me." + +The treacherous Horne gave succor by grinning while the cowboys bound +the groom. Hetty had disappeared, whisked away in the turmoil. A man was +driving the buckboard toward the company's corrals, but of the bride +there was not a trace. Stealing her from her lord's arms is one of the +merriest jests we have. + +"Well," said Lafe good-naturedly, "I reckon it's one on me. Turn me +loose. I buy." + +An hour went by, and he endeavored to escape from his friends that he +might rejoin his wife. They would not hear of it. When Lafe insisted and +left despite them, he was unable to find Hetty. For another hour he kept +patient, dawdling in Turner's place and giving as good as he got in the +way of badinage. Everybody in town seized the opportunity to rally him +while he waited. The sheriff sat on the counter, kicking his heels +against the boards, and never once lost countenance. + +About five o'clock Mrs. Horne ran in hot haste to her husband. + +"Hetty," she panted, "where is she?" + +"How should I know?" said Horne. "You had her last. Didn't you and Mrs. +Brown hide her out?" + +"We locked her in Mrs. Turner's house. She's gone. She isn't there. Oh, +what shall I do? She's gone." + +"Pshaw!" the cowman said. "She's all right. She's just given you the +slip to go find Lafe." + +Still wringing her hands, Mrs. Horne returned to her ally, the Widow, +and they hunted the house and Mrs. Turner's house all over again. Hetty +was not to be found. + +"Boys, a joke's a joke and I can take mine with the rest," said +Lafe--in proof whereof he gave vent to a hollow "ha, ha"--"but this has +gone further. I want my wife. I want Hetty. Where is she?" + +It was the supper hour and they were collected at the Fashion, and still +no sign of the bride. Even Horne began to look anxious. His wife and the +Widow melted into tears, bitterly bewailing their share in this +unfortunate practical joking. Lafe indulged in no reproaches when the +situation was explained to him, but started on a systematic raking of +Badger. Search parties were instantly formed and not a corner of the +town was overlooked. + +One of the Lazy L outfit--he who had given the milch cow--became a +trifle too acrimonious in his denunciation of the manner in which the +Anvil men had behaved. They had stepped beyond the bounds of gentlemanly +comportment, he contended. There were high words, but the men separated. +Later they met again in the Cowboys' Rest and a shooting was imminent. A +boy summoned the sheriff. + +"Don't, boys," said Lafe, entering hastily. "Put up the gun, Dave. No +shooting now. Be good boys. If anything happened--if anybody got +hurt--Hetty, it'd break her all up." + +The combatants reluctantly surrendered their weapons and as reluctantly +shook hands. Each was hurriedly impressed into a search party and they +were led in opposite directions. + +Night found the citizens of Badger beating the bushes and peering into +fence corners and yelling Hetty's name. Despairing of finding her in +town, the sheriff and Horne made a circuit of the place. It had to be +done slowly, as the ground was rough and one was apt to fall over mounds +of tin cans and other débris. + +They were about a quarter of a mile beyond Badger's limits, when Lafe +halted suddenly. + +"She's somewhere near," said he. + +"Why, how do you figure it? I can't see my hand in front of my face." + +"Figure it?" said the sheriff, who was trembling. "Man, I can feel it." + +He cupped his hands and shouted--"Hetty! Oh--Hetty!" + +"Here I am," said a drowsy voice. "Is that you, Lafe? Gracious, what's +happened? It's dark." + +There was the bride, sitting beside a mesquite bush and rubbing her +eyes. They ran to her. She got up and limped a few steps. + +"My foot's gone to sleep," she exclaimed. + +With Lafe holding her on one side and Horne pacing austerely on the +other, she walked into town. Why had she run away? She had run away from +Mrs. Horne and the Widow because she perceived what they planned to do. +For an hour or two she waited for Lafe outside the town and then grew +very sleepy. So she lay down beside the bush. + +"I knew you would find me," said she. + +Horne began to whistle, not caring to hear the sheriff's assurance that +he would find her at the ends of the world--wherever those be. + +"What time is it? Lafe, dear, I'm so hungry. I feel like a steak," said +Hetty. + +While she was partaking of this with a very unbridelike appetite, and +Lafe was doing his best opposite her, a messenger brought the sheriff an +envelope. It was unaddressed, but there was a note inside-- + + Here's wishing you'll be happy. Adios. I won't bother you till + after the honeymoon. + + STEVE. + +While he was puzzling over it, Hetty asked what was the matter. He +passed her the paper. + +"Wrote it in jail, I reckon," he said. + +"Oh, Lafe," said Turner, sticking his head inside the door, "here's a +telegram for you." + +It was from the county seat. + + Steve Moffatt broke jail here yesterday. Gone over the Border. + +This, also, Lafe handed to his wife. + +"Doggone his fat head," he said. "Why couldn't he wait? Let somebody +else catch him. My successor can do that." + +"Of course," she answered, sighing happily. "You'll never be bothered +with him again." + +"Never no more," said the sheriff, not knowing what the years would +bring. + +Although it was ten o'clock when they finished their meal, both insisted +on setting out for their new home in Hope Caņon. + +"Don't go to-night. You can stay with me," said the Widow Brown. +"There's lots of room. Or wait--I'll move out. You'll be more +comfortable all alone." + +"No, thank you, ma'am," answered the sheriff. "I know the trail like I +do the path from your front gate. We'll be there in two hours." + +So they set out through the languorous dark. Lafe drove easily with one +hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +JOHNSON BECOMES BOSS OF THE ANVIL + + +The Johnsons went to live at Lafe's place beyond the Willows, in Hope +Caņon. And there they occupied a frame house on the crest of a knoll. It +was an ideal locality for a bridal couple, privacy being its most +pronounced feature. For nobody else lived in the Caņon and their nearest +neighbors were the citizens of Badger, fourteen miles distant, beyond a +swelling valley and a fringe of hills. + +Hetty was so busy making habitable the three bare rooms of the home, +that the days were as minutes to her and the weeks took wings. It was +absolutely amazing what she achieved with two tables, a packing case, +six chairs, a bureau and some mats and window curtains--all these +freighted from Badger in a wagon. No room of the three gave the +appearance of having been slighted. In lieu of pictures, she contrived +to bestow brightness to the walls by tacking up covers from magazines, +and solid comfort was afforded by bunks built in corners of two of the +rooms. They were draped with Navajo blankets and Hetty had constructed +them herself of substantial oak, Lafe being an indifferent carpenter and +immensely impatient of it. After the manner of his kind he hated any +task that could not be done on horseback. That Hetty had a taste for +show cannot be denied, because the bed in her room was hung with +mosquito netting in the shape of a canopy, and there was a wondrous blue +coverlet. Indeed, it was fit for a royal couch. + +To a bachelor of long standing, adjustment to married life brings with +it certain brain shocks and sudden vistas. It is constantly unfolding +surprises that burst on his vision as wonders. So many shifts of their +household arrangements struck Lafe as unique that he could not forbear +mention of them to his friends in Badger--with the air of a discoverer, +confident that nothing like this had ever been done or attempted before +in history. Whereupon they would emit merry jeers and the older men +would assure him that he would soon be harness-broken. + +But the greatest change was in his outlook on life, in the new +perspective and the new responsibilities that the married state opened +to him. A year before, the sheriff would have chafed at any restraint +which prohibited enjoyment with his friends after the fashion of the +country. Now, he willingly abandoned all his former boon companions whom +he chanced to meet, and did not do it with a sense of righteousness for +having lived up to his duty, but cheerfully, gladly, because their +companionship seemed now stale and flat and purposeless. And he was +always anxious to get home. + +"Don't you lose none of them parcels, sheriff," they would chaff, +standing on the sidewalk to watch Johnson tie his purchases to the +saddle. + +"Has she done begun to cut your hair yet, Lafe?" another inquired. + +Johnson would grin comfortably, and with an "Adios, you fellers," ride +off towards Hope Caņon. Invariably he brought a present for Hetty. +Everything pretty that he saw struck him as a possible gift for her, so +that their home waxed in comfort. + +In his blighted days of singleness, Lafe had often taken hearty +amusement out of the simple fact that some among his married friends +were obliged to rise at unearthly hours in order to light fires and do +household chores which he considered to be within the feminine province. +On the first mornings of their residence in the new home, he performed +these tasks as a loving attention. Of course, ever after he had to do +them as a duty. Once a man does a thing, he establishes a precedent +which a conscientious individual finds it hard to break--but, bless you, +Lafe would never have permitted Hetty to do jobs of this sort, that were +within his own powers of performance. So he helped cheerily as +dishwasher and assistant housemaid, this gunfighting sheriff of Badger. + +Yet Lafe did not emerge wholly scatheless from the ill customs of a +lifetime. On a day, old man Horne sent him to Badger in company of a +cattle buyer, with whom Horne was making a deal that ran into hundreds +of thousands of dollars. And his orders were that Johnson was to get the +buyer drunk and keep him in that enviable condition as long as he could. +This is considered legitimate in the cow country and "good business." + +Lafe did so. And in the course of his enthusiastic labors, he took on a +cargo which he found some difficulty in storing. The night of his +return, Johnson, as he rode up Hope Caņon, sang a ditty which were best +forgotten by a respectable married man. + +The house was in darkness, and when he would have entered their bedroom, +he found the door locked. + +"This ain't no time to get mad," Lafe said warily, winking into the +dark, and went to sleep on one of the bunks. + +Next morning his appetite for breakfast was far below normal, but he +kept Hetty busy boiling coffee. + +"What was the trouble last night?" he had the brazenness to ask. + +"I knew there was something the matter when I saw that note you sent +from town by the boy," said Hetty, "and I didn't want to see you. What I +don't know won't hurt me much, I reckon." + +Lafe was feeling very shaky, and looked up at her from his plate with +marked shamefacedness. + +"It won't never happen again," he promised, and Hetty came around behind +his chair and put her arms about his neck. + +"You've been a pretty good boy," she whispered, "but, oh, Lafe, I just +couldn't bear to see you. That's why I locked the door." + +Johnson took to his cow work with much zest. The Anvil range was a huge +domain, a kingdom in itself. The bawling of Horne's calves sounded from +the 108th to the 111th meridian of longitude and the Anvil steers grazed +a thousand hills. Much of this land was free range, the property of the +American people; but Horne controlled it by owning all the water-holes, +and defended his rights by the iron hand. In addition to the free grass, +he had some hundreds of thousands of acres under fence, which was his by +purchase of Spanish grants--a portion of it on the other side of the +Border. + +To be boss of the Anvil, then, meant something. Directly and indirectly, +Lafe had two hundred men under him. Fifty of these were cowboys; the +others were employed as windmill hands, as farmers to grow feed for the +cattle in winter, and as laborers to put up new fences, corrals and +division camps, for Horne was laying out the range on his own lines. + +Johnson chose his outfit with considerable shrewdness. He was a keen +judge of men and knew cattle from horn to hoof and beyond to the stock +yards. Therefore the Anvil riders were famed in the land as expert +cowmen. Ability to ride or dexterity with the rope did not win a cowboy +a place with the Anvil. He took those who best understood the science of +the range. Most of them were Texans, and men of mature years. + +"The northern boys make better busters," he told Horne. "Take 'em all in +all and they can beat our boys riding. But they don't know cattle like +these longhorn Texans do. No, sir; it takes our southern boys to know +how to handle cattle." + +Thus did Lafe make a propitious start and win respect. And the months +went by, and the two in Hope Caņon were ridiculously happy. + +Unruffled happiness cannot endure for long. Perhaps it would pall if it +did. A thing, to be deemed precious, must have contrasts to establish +its value. So there entered into the wedded life of the Johnsons its +first severe jar. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +ENTERS TROUBLE + + +"You'll know her because she has yellow hair and gray, gray eyes and her +clothes fit," said Mrs. Horne. "Besides, nobody else will get off." + +"How'll we know they fit her?" Lafe asked. "Suppose they shouldn't +happen to fit her right snug, ma'am, we'll leave her at The Tanks?" + +"She'll be on the last car," said Mrs. Horn "Remember--yellow hair and +gray eyes. Judith walks like this." + +With these directions, Mrs. Horn sent Johnson to The Tanks to meet the +Burro express. It was called that by the sparse population of the region +in a spirit of levity: a burro will pause to graze on the least excuse +and takes joy in lying down with his pack. + +It was twenty-seven miles from the ranch to The Tanks, and Manuel would +follow with a buckboard and mule team, since it was manifestly absurd to +expect Mrs. Vining to make the journey horseback. Lafe was much elated +to be chosen for this mission and invited me to accompany him. + +"Miz Horne," said he, "wouldn't send a greenhorn. No, sir; she wants +somebody who'll look like something in decent company. Say, if I get any +stronger with ol' Horne, he'd ought to raise me. Don't you reckon?" + +Cheered by the prospect, he began a monologue to his horse, a habit Mr. +Johnson had acquired in lonely places. "Doggone your fat head, why can't +you lift your feet? Hey? Hold still, can't you, till I light this +cigarette? Oh, you needn't look back. You know I'm here all right." + +In early afternoon we crossed a caņon on the far side of The Hatter and +turned to the left along a mesa. Lafe puckered his eyes, squinted +carefully and said: "Well, I swan. Do you see that?" + +A man was sitting on the skull of a horse and he was counting the tops +of the hills. It struck me as a profitless form of endeavor. As we +neared him: "No," he remarked, "that's not right. I made it two thousand +and three before." + +"Off in your tally, pardner?" Lafe inquired civilly. + +He proceeded, unheeding, with his simple addition. "One thousand and +seventy-six, and those five little fellows make--what do they make, +now?" He broke off to scratch his head in vexation. He looked at Johnson +briefly and then stared at me. + +"That fellow there," he said, with a nod at Lafe, "that fellow's crazy. +Everybody's crazy out here--all but me." + +He was not an old man, but his hair was grizzled and fell in dirty +disorder to his shoulders. We could see portions of him through his +clothes, and a sleeve of his shirt was not. Yet I began to marvel, for +he spoke with the accent of culture. + +"There used to be three thousand four hundred and eight scrub-cedars on +that big mountain yonder," he confided to me. "I've lost count a bit +lately, though. What do you make 'em?" + +"You're short six. Four hundred and fourteen--not four hundred and +eight." + +He thanked me and considered this for some minutes. "Perhaps you're +right," he said. "Sometimes when these old rocks take to hopping up and +down, it keeps a man on the move not to lose track of 'em." + +"It must be right hard doing that 'rithmetic all day long?" Johnson +ventured. + +"Oh, yes. I get hungry frequently. Have you boys got anything to eat? +Well, if you haven't, you'd best be on your way." + +Complying with the suggestion, Lafe turned his horse. "It's that ol' +prospector who lives up on the shoulder of The Hatter," he told me. + +It did not seem right to leave him thus. The man was deranged and unfit +to be at large. But when I proposed that he accompany us to The Tanks, +our acquaintance returned a vehement refusal. We could not fool him, he +said. The last man who gave him a ride had tried to put him on board a +train, and he had been compelled to knock the fellow on the head with a +stick of wood. So we left him sitting on the skull, counting the tops of +the hills. He mentioned carelessly that he would probably see us again. + +There was no mistaking the lady we had come to escort. + +"There she is. Wouldn't she knock you cold?" Lafe whispered. + +Her hair was yellow, and she gave the impression of having been melted +and poured into her pink muslin. Assuredly she was not of our world, and +most certainly her clothes fitted. The conductor, a large individual of +red hair and an aloof expression, closed his left eye slowly at Lafe and +stepped aboard. The Burro express crawled away up the valley and we set +out for the ranch, Johnson riding close to the buckboard, the better to +converse with Mrs. Vining. + +She began to question about the country and cow work. Everything was +"astonishing" or "delightful, really," of course; and no matter what she +said, there was injected into her speech an indefinable note that seemed +to place the listener on a confidential footing, to the exclusion of all +others. Some women have this faculty. The two ignored me utterly. I +coughed once or twice as a faint reminder to Lafe that he was a newly +married man and that I was prepared to do the civil thing myself, but he +took no notice. + +We had forgotten all about our friend of the mathematical propensities, +when he appeared suddenly beside the trail. + +"Hello," he cried, "back already?" + +Mrs. Vining regarded the unkempt figure with composure. + +"Why don't we drive on?" she said. "Drive on, please." + +"Who's that? Who's that, I say?" The prospector advanced on the +buckboard at a shambling trot. + +"Please, please drive on," Mrs. Vining entreated faintly. + +Instead of obeying, the Mexican waited. The prospector came to the wheel +of the buckboard and peered hard at Mrs. Vining. She met his gaze in a +sort of horrified fascination for a moment and then turned completely +about in her seat, so that her shoulders were to him. Before we could +intervene, he seized her by the arm and commenced to drag her out. He +was mumbling as he did so. + +"No, I won't go," she screamed. "It wasn't my fault. I won't go. Help! +Help me!" + +Lafe spurred almost on top of the fellow and cut at him with a quirt. He +released his hold and dodged, and Mrs. Vining sank back into the +buckboard. + +"Hi, you--drive on," Johnson commanded. + +He made no attempt to chastise the prospector. A demented man is not +responsible and is protected of God. Such is the creed of primitive +peoples and to it Lafe held strongly. Manuel whipped the mules and we +went by the mountain prowler amid a shower of sand and pebbles. He +remained in the trail, staring after us. He shouted something and +whirled his arms at a great rate, but when Lafe cantered back, he +scurried off among the mesquite like a scared rabbit. + +"What an extraordinary person," said Mrs. Vining, when Johnson overtook +us. Her lips were open in a fixed smile and her skin faded yellow under +its powder. + +"He's harmless, ma'am," Lafe assured her. "Don't you be scared. He's +just a bit locoed. We'll go fetch him to-morrow or next day, if you say +so." + +"No, no," she begged. "Leave the poor creature alone." + +I could see her hands tremble in her lap. She seemed distrait all the +way home and as soon as Mrs. Horne had done embracing her, she retired. +Next morning, however, she was sitting on the porch and called Lafe to +her side. They talked there for an hour or two and we could hear +Johnson's soft bass laugh. When he joined me in the corrals to catch the +horses, he was looking very pleased with himself. + +Mrs. Vining spent the next three days in minute probing of range life. +At least, that is what Lafe told me she found to talk to him about. +Apparently Mrs. Horne had little sympathy for this seeking after +knowledge, for she laughed a trifle impatiently and remarked to me that +men were idiots the world over and it was none of her business. + +She made it her business on the third day. + +"Why don't you leave Lafe alone?" she demanded. + +"Why, my dear Martha, I'm not running after Mr. Johnson." + +"Well, then, what do you find to talk about all the time? It's shameful, +Judy." + +"There you go again. One can't be civil to any sort of a man, but that +Puritanical conscience of yours--" + +"Oh, darn," said Mrs. Horne. + +We were treated on succeeding days to the spectacle of Lafe hovering +about Mrs. Vining like a fly above molasses paper--he knows he ought not +to be there at all, but cannot keep away. I am persuaded that a third +party could have heard all they said without embarrassment; but still, +there was Hetty. And it interfered with his work, just when he was new +to it and should have applied himself whole-heartedly. The entire +superintendence of the Anvil range fell to him, but Lafe now gave up +long trips. When he did go out, Mrs. Vining went with him on the pretext +of familiarizing herself with the country. Lafe began to assume a hint +of bravado in his bearing and was evidently flattered that he could +attract a woman of Mrs. Vining's world. + +"Judith," said Mrs. Horne, "if you don't let up on Lafe Johnson, I'll +tell his wife, or get Bob to give him his time." + +"His time? What's that?" she asked in amaze. She had just got out of bed +and was brushing her yellow hair. They could hear Johnson whistling +"Turkey in the Straw" as he went past the house. + +"Fire him." Her friend faced Mrs. Vining squarely. She was intensely +angry. "What do you mean by taking him out on the porch as you did last +night?" + +"Martha, how dare you say such a thing? You're horribly rude and--and +unkind. Why, I never thought--" + +"Of course you didn't," Mrs. Horne went on in a level voice. "You never +do. And you're going to tell me all that nonsense? Remember, I'm a +woman, Judy, and the woman was never born who wouldn't lie about some +things." + +"We're nothing but the most casual friends," said Mrs. Vining warmly. + +Mrs. Horne stopped her with a gesture of passionate impatience. "Who +said you were anything else? Will nothing sober you? I would have +thought that Harry--" + +"You're cruel, Martha. Yes, you are. Will you leave me alone to dress?" + +"Oh, darn!" Mrs. Horne exclaimed. + +From that interview she came straight to me. A party of friends was +coming from the mining town for a few days, she said, and I was to meet +them at The Tanks. Among them would be Mr. Mortimer Peck, a bachelor who +managed a large copper mine. Also, on my way over, I could go around by +Hope Caņon and leave a letter for Mrs. Johnson. Perhaps I grinned. At +any rate, Mrs. Horne said: "Now, don't try to be clever, but keep your +thoughts to yourself." + +To my everlasting credit, be it said, I did not read that letter, +although it was unsealed. Whatever was in it, Hetty seemed dumbfounded. +For a moment I feared she would faint. She was not that sort, however. +Before I left she was bristling with energy and told me that she would +be at the ranch on my return. There was a red spot in each cheek and the +light of battle in her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +A CLEVER WOMAN AND A MISUNDERSTANDING + + +I met the train at The Tanks and drove the party to the ranch. There +were Mr. and Mrs. Prouty, a colorless pair, and the young man Peck +aforementioned. I think Prouty had once been Horne's financial backer. +When we arrived at headquarters, everybody was on the steps to welcome +them, with the big hospitality of cowland. Hetty was there, too, more +radiant than I had ever seen her. + +It is true that her dress suffered considerably by comparison with Mrs. +Vining's, but she had advantages which that expert lady would have given +all her aids to possess. Young Peck looked in Hetty's direction just +once, and gravitated there as by natural laws. He had met many women +like Mrs. Vining. She tried all her wiles on him and he responded gaily, +with a poise equal to her own, and then went on about his business. This +business appeared to concern Hetty. + +Shame on the graceless woman!--she had not been married five months and +here she was giving open encouragement to a man who had seen too many +sides of life for anybody's good. Yet Mrs. Horne did not chide her. +Indeed, she watched the progress of events with undisguised pleasure. + +The same cannot be said for Lafe. First he seemed at a loss, then dazed. +After that he sulked. It was noticeable that he was absentminded now +when Mrs. Vining cooed to him, and appeared to give ear more to what +Hetty was saying to the mining man at the other side of the room. Peck's +manner was joyous and eager. There was much merriment in their corner. + +The boss was very gloomy as he helped me at the stables that night. It +would appear that Mrs. Horne planned a ride to the Wolf place on the +morrow and he grumbled that he supposed it would be just his luck to +draw Mrs. Vining for the entire day. It was not for me to remind him he +had seemed sufficiently satisfied with this arrangement on other +occasions. + +By dint of maneuvering her horse next morning, Mrs. Vining enticed Peck +to her assistance. However, on perceiving that Hetty was riding off with +me, Mr. Peck utilized his privileges of guest to call out to Lafe: "I +say, Johnson, you know more about these things than I do? Will you fix +this girth for Mrs. Vining?" Upon which he loped away after Hetty. + +Throughout that ride I kept far ahead of the procession, driving a +pack-mule that carried our provisions. The brute was stubborn and gave +trouble, persisting in efforts to scrape off its burden under every +tree; but they were troubles more easily handled than those I suspected +Mr. Johnson to have laid up for himself. + +The Wolf place is a heavenly retreat in a brown, stern land. The day was +warm, and old man Horne, who thought a good deal of his comfort, +proposed that we wait until sundown before starting for home. Everybody +was agreeable except, perhaps, Lafe, and he said nothing. He spent the +entire afternoon in wake of Mrs. Vining--such a very evident victim, +though, that she gave up in disgust and went to sit beside Mrs. Horne +and the Proutys. Lafe affected not to watch Hetty and Peck, who were +gathering wild flowers and behaving like two children released from +school. + +It was dark when we went home. As before, I was assigned to the mule. +Next came old man Horne and Mrs. Prouty, his wife and Mr. Prouty; then +Mrs. Vining and Lafe; and last--very far behind--rode the mining +engineer and Hetty. We had gone about five miles when Lafe mumbled some +excuse to Mrs. Vining and went back. + +It happened that Peck had just reached out to take a flower from Hetty's +hand. They had been tossing them about all evening. I grant you there +was no occasion for this move, but these are the facts. Let us assume +that Hetty never divined his purpose. He seized her wrist and was +drawing her towards him when Lafe arrived. Hetty jerked free. Peck +laughed. + +"Go ahead with Miz Horne," Lafe ordered. It was the primal man speaking +to the woman who belonged to him. "You wait here, Peck. We'll settle +this thing right now." + +"Don't be an ass--" + +"Lafe!" Hetty protested. She was flurried and much frightened, for never +before had she seen him really angry. She brought her horse against his, +so that they could see each other plainly. There must have been signs of +weakening in him, for she suddenly flicked her reins upon his riding +boot and said: "Perhaps this'll teach you." + +"Teach me what?" asked Lafe uncertainly. + +"Never mind. You ask Mrs. Horne. She'll tell you all about it." + +Peck had drawn near. He entertained fears for Mrs. Johnson, but none for +himself. When he heard this, he laughed. He was disappointed, but he had +seen a lot of the world. + +"So that's it," said Peck. "You little rascal." + +He pinched Hetty lightly on the cheek, but Lafe did not object. Instead, +he looked rather sheepish and drew alongside his wife in proper +humility. At a word from her they galloped to the front, passed the +others of the party, and took charge of the pack-animal. Peck lighted a +cigar and joined Prouty. He was smiling and seemed not at all put out. + +I fell back to ride with old man Horne. Hetty and Lafe were far in the +lead, going at a long lope and beating the mule joyously with a rope-end +when it lagged in its pace. She threw a flower at him and he caught it +and stuck it inside the bosom of his shirt. + +Old man Horne departed at dawn on some cow business, and when his wife +went to bed that night, she left injunctions that she was on no account +to be disturbed before eleven in the morning. Yet at midnight she was +wakened by a knock at her door. + +"Wha-what--who's there?" she cried. + +Mrs. Vining padded into the room in her bare feet and crawled into bed +beside her friend, snuggling against her shoulder. It was black in the +room and the older woman winked solemnly at the wall. She waited with +patience for the other to speak her mind. + +"I couldn't sleep," said Mrs. Vining. + +"I could." + +"Martha, I've been so catty." + +"Yes, you have," said Mrs. Horne stoutly. + +"Well, you needn't tell me like that. I'm sure there was nothing to make +all this--" + +"Don't let's go over all that again, Judy. Why did you do it? That's +what I want to know. The whole thing was ridiculous." + +"Because I did--that's why. And one has to have _some_ amusement out +here." + +"Well! that _is_ nice." + +"You know I didn't mean it that way, Martha." + +There was silence, so long that Mrs. Horne thought her friend must be +sleeping. Gradually she became aware that she was crying. + +"Judy, what's the matter, dear?" She drew the younger woman closer and +patted her in motherly fashion. + +"No-nothing. She's--she's so pretty and I'm getting--getting old. +Martha, it's lonely. I can't stand it. I'm only thirty-four and all +alone. I'm afraid to look ahead. Think of all the dreadful years. You +can't blame me for--sometimes I think I'll--" + +Mrs. Horne comforted her as she would have comforted a daughter. She was +thinking intently as she soothed. Presently she asked: "Judy, have you +ever heard from Harry?" + +"Never." + +"Don't you know where he is?" + +She felt Mrs. Vining's body stiffen. + +"No--that is--no, I'm not sure. I don't know." + +Mrs. Horne cleared her throat and offered the sort of consolation we are +apt to accord our friends. + +"You know, Judy, dear, what everybody said when Harry left. Of course, I +knew it was all his own fault and his drinking. I never did believe what +people said--" + +"No, of course you didn't," said Mrs. Vining, with a trace of +bitterness. + +They fell silent again. At last Mrs. Vining moved. + +"She's so sweet," she murmured. Shortly afterwards she kissed Mrs. Horne +and rose to go to her own room. + +"Stay here, Judy. You won't bother me." + +"No, but you'll bother me. You snore dreadfully." + +"Judy, that's a lie," Mrs. Horne cried after her. + +By Hetty's orders, Lafe accompanied us to The Tanks when Mrs. Vining +departed. A truly womanly stab, this, in victory. And the Burro express +bore Mrs. Vining away, the conductor winking at Lafe from the platform +of the last car, his countenance sad and composed. We watched him take +his cap off in order to mop his brow and Mrs. Vining waved her glove at +us. Then we turned our horses about. Mrs. Horne shed a few tears and +instructed Manuel to whip the team, lest she be late home for supper. + +The Burro express crawled away up the valley. At a point six miles from +The Tanks, an unkempt man with matted hair flung a stone through the +window of the last car. Later I came on him on a mesa and he was +counting the tops of the hills. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +RECONCILIATION--MRS. VINING EXPERIENCES A CHANGE OF HEART + + +We were to see more of our mathematician who haunted The Hatter. + +On a day, the rider who brought our mail twice weekly, delivered a fat +letter to Mrs. Horne. She read it with open mouth and called her husband +into consultation behind closed doors. Shortly afterwards they summoned +Lafe, and in about an hour, he sent for me. + +"I've got to go fetch that locoed prospector," he confided. "Will you +help?" + +"Why not get some of the boys to round him up?" I objected, for the mail +had brought some personal business that required thought. + +"They might be rough with him. No, sir; we've got to bring him in +gentle, Dan. It's the queerest story I ever done heard. Say, don't women +do queer things? I swan, I can't figure 'em." + +All of the afternoon and next morning we rode the slopes of The Hatter. +Then suddenly we saw him. The prospector was catching grasshoppers. He +made to run as we approached, but Lafe spurred his horse and headed him +off. Seeing escape barred, he stood still and waited, not without +dignity--if a man who is clutching a fist-full of grasshoppers can +possess dignity. + +"What do you want?" he demanded. + +"Say, you speak French, don't you?" + +"I can speak five languages, sir," said the prospector pompously. And he +began to patter German. + +"Well," Lafe resumed--and I could see he was impressed--"well, sir, +there's a guy at the ranch who can't speak English very good. We want +somebody to tell him what the ol' man wants--ol' Horne of the Anvil. If +you'll come down--" + +"I shall be very pleased." + +"Good," Johnson said in surprise. "We've got some right good liquor +there and I thought--" + +The prospector laughed and looked at him cunningly. He would not mount +behind either of us, being suspicious even of the offer, but trudged +between, occasionally breaking into rambling discourses on natural +history and associated topics--such as the edible qualities of +grasshoppers, if properly stewed. It took us five hours to reach the +ranch, and our guest was then so tired that he readily acceded to the +suggestion that we eat and sleep before meeting the gentleman who spoke +only French. + +Next morning, by dint of impressing on him the importance of the +transaction and the high social status of the man he was to converse +with, Lafe persuaded the prospector to bathe and don new clothes. They +belonged to Horne and sagged all over his emaciated body, but he seemed +rather proud of his appearance. Also, once started, he consented to let +Dave, the cook, cut his hair and beard. + +At noon I was on the porch when a buckboard drove up, and a man and a +woman got out. The woman was heavily veiled. Both were hurried inside by +Mrs. Horne and I was sent down to the bunkhouse to carry word to Lafe +and his captive. + +"That feller who just come in is a specialist," Lafe whispered on the +way to the house. "They come off the Burro express this morning." + +The prospector was ushered into Horne's office, a bare room facing the +corrals. There a well-groomed man of affable manners met us and +courteously addressed him in French. They talked for a moment. The +prospector never let his gaze wander from the other's face. + +"I say," he broke out abruptly in English, "isn't your name Toole?" + +"It is." + +"Harvard '87?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"That was my class." + +The other affected to search his memory. He wrinkled his brow and pursed +up his mouth. + +"I remember you now perfectly. You're Vining." + +They shook hands. Then Vining drew back as though assailed by a +suspicion, and his glance flickered from one to the other of us like +that of an animal at bay. + +"They said you couldn't speak--what does this mean, anyway? You're +trying--" + +"Steady, old man," said the doctor. + +The door to the sitting-room off the office opened, and Mrs. Vining came +in. She went straight to the prospector, with her hands out pleadingly. +Had she wavered, heaven knows what might not have happened. + +"Harry!" she said. + +What transpired after that I cannot say. Lafe and I found ourselves +outside, and there the doctor joined us. + +Not long after sunrise, Johnson himself drove a light, covered wagon in +front of the porch steps, with me on the seat beside him. Our orders +were to catch the Burro express with our guests. + +Mrs. Vining came first, the prospector holding fast to her arm. His eyes +were steady and he appeared perfectly rational, but uneasy and nervous, +and he still shambled in his walk. Just behind them was the specialist, +brisk and confident. He smiled on us triumphantly. + +Before Mrs. Vining got into the vehicle, Mrs. Horne surged down the +steps impulsively and threw her arms about her neck and kissed her. + +"Judy, I'm so--you've made me feel so--you're such a good--" + +"Hush," whispered the woman of the yellow hair, and all the gay +affectation was gone from her. "Let us be thankful he's all right. If +he'll only stay--good-by, dear--we can only hope and pray God." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +LAFE HELPS A DESERTER + + +After this experience, Johnson settled to hard work for Horne, and hard +work on a range means unremitting toil. When everything moved smoothly, +he would act as Horne's trail boss. At this time the cowman was buying +large herds in Mexico, principally yearling steers and cows and calves. +He would throw these cattle across the line and pasture them until a +rising market offered the profits he had set his mind on. Success had so +puffed up Horne that nothing less than sixty per cent would tempt his +investment. + +At the setting-in of winter again, Lafe took his outfit far down below +Arizpe and purchased a herd of nine hundred head. Then the American +authorities declared a quarantine and the cattle could not be brought up +until it was lifted. Johnson started back. His party camped on the San +Pedro, and just before they crawled under the blankets, they were joined +by a native outfit. Of course the Mexicans had no beef or anything to +eat. The boss gave them a quarter from the yearling they had killed that +evening. + +Five of them began to shoot dice on a saddle blanket in a decent, +gentlemanly manner--two of the cowboys, the Chinese cook, a Yaqui +vaquero and a Mexican horse thief from the Cuitaca valley. The boss +smoked and watched the game. Another man lay under the wagon with his +collar bone broken and at times his plaints became a nuisance. + +"Come a eight," the Celestial invoked. "Heap bum thlow. Me ketchum soon. +You wait." + +Presently they became aware that somebody was ministering to their +injured companion. His moans ceased. "Feel any better, now?" a voice +asked. There followed murmurings and a movement as if the newcomer were +easing the sufferer's position. + +"Well," he said, "if you can swear that way, you shouldn't ought to be +dying. Keep it up. You're doing fine." + +A tall man walked into the group around the lantern. He surveyed each +face in turn. The Yaqui was blowing on the dice to bring luck and was +fearfully disgusted at the interruption. Addressing himself to Johnson, +as though somebody had told him that he was the leader, the stranger +said: "Hello! Got anything to eat?" + +"Sure," Lafe answered readily. "Here, you, Charlie--go get this +gentleman some cold beef and bread. Drag it now; ketchum quick. Fly at +it, pardner." + +The visitor was ravenous and bolted the beef in hunks. Lafe judged that +he had walked into camp, but refrained from asking why, although the +man is poor indeed who cannot obtain a horse to ride in that country. +Bedding was scarce, for they were traveling light, and the best that +Johnson could offer was that he should double up with the Chinaman. +Their guest appeared no whit abashed by the prospect. + +"Well, me for the hay," he said at once. "I'm all in. Lordy, hark to my +joints creak. I bet I've footed it a million miles through the sand, Mr. +Johnson. Your name's Johnson, ain't it? Mine's Wilkins. Say, if this +here Chink snores, you'll be burying a cook in the morning, sure as +you're alive." + +They headed for the Border at daybreak. It was a long thirty miles, and +Lafe impressed a horse and the injured man's saddle for Wilkins' use. He +noted that Wilkins' overalls and shirt were trying to forsake him and +that his toes were taking the air, so when he perceived Charlie +measuring him with a comparative eye, in which lurked a gleam of +satisfaction, he sent the cook sharply about his business. Lafe held +that superiority of race should ever be maintained. + +For the most part they rode in silence, as men do at the beginning of +day. Their eyes were heavy with sleep. Wilkins seemed sullen and gave no +explanation of his presence in that region. He sat stiffly erect in the +saddle with his right arm hanging straight at his side. A cowboy or a +native westerner crooks his elbows and lets them jog. + +"He's a soldier," Lafe concluded, and because he entertained an +undefined contempt for soldiers, he trotted ten yards ahead of his guest +throughout the morning. + +The sun was high when they sighted a white stone monument on a ridge +below the Huachucas. A wire fence ran past it. They could see it stretch +for miles and miles in a straight line. On their side of the fence was +Mexico. Beyond lay the United States. + +They reached a gate. Johnson got down and held it open for his men to +pass through. Wilkins stopped and remained a dozen yards within the +Mexican Border. + +"I don't reckon I'll go on with you," said he; "I'll just stick around +here for a spell. Here's your horse, Mr. Johnson. Much obliged. He's +sure some horse." + +"All right," Lafe answered, and ordered one of his men to throw the +horse in with the saddle bunch, which they were driving loosely ahead of +them. It struck him as curious that a man should voluntarily go afoot in +that unsettled mountain country, but he never abandoned the tenet that a +man's business is his own. Consequently he showed no surprise, nor did +his men, but they moved off northward, leaving Wilkins gazing after them +from the far side of the fence. + +"Look!" said a cowboy. "What's that girl doing here?" + +A young woman was fording the river some distance to their left, just +below the Palomino. Johnson recognized her mount and made as if to hail +her. Then a sudden remembrance of Wilkins waiting beyond the gate +caused him to pull up. He grinned and grew solemn abruptly, because she +was a friend of his wife's, and her brother worked for Horne. + +Of course he told Hetty all about it on his return home and of course +she refused to see the matter from his standpoint at all and exhibited +the liveliest sympathy and understanding of the case. Lafe need not try +to tell her that she was indiscreet; Mary Lou Hardin could afford to be +indiscreet. Hetty had never known a sweeter, nicer girl. To this Lafe +grunted. He had not much faith in women's estimates of their own sex and +he considered that any girl who would go to meet a soldier who dare not +enter his own country were better off under careful surveillance. + +"Nonsense!" cried Hetty. "I tell you it's all right. Anything Mary Lou +does must be all right. I'll ride over to-morrow and see her. I bet she +tells me all about it." + +When Johnson returned to the Caņon next night from a day of +horse-breaking, he found Hetty simply bursting with news. Yes, Mary Lou +had told her all about it. Wilkins had been a trooper--a corporal or a +colonel or something--and he and Mary Lou had been sweethearts for over +a year. But Mr. Hardin would not hear of her marrying a soldier, so Mr. +Wilkins had done the only thing possible under the circumstances--he had +gone over into Mexico to make a fortune in the mines. It would appear, +however, that something ailed the price of copper. The company closed +down one of its shafts and Mr. Wilkins was released. He had grown lonely +for Mary Lou and homesick for his own country. Wasn't it noble of him? +The whole tangle was perfectly clear to Hetty. + +"Noble, my foot!" said Lafe. "The feller's a deserter. And here I done +lent him a horse!" + +That was not all Hetty had to say. She had a clever scheme, concocted by +herself and Mary Lou while they mingled their tears over this recital of +self-sacrifice. It was this--Wilkins wanted to come back. If he did so +without preliminary negotiation, they would be apt to lock him in a cell +and then he would not be able to see Mary Lou at all. Wasn't it inhuman? +There were some silly rules or regulations Mr. Wilkins had overlooked +when he departed, and Mary Lou said that the commandant would probably +not see the thing in the right light and would give no consideration +whatever to their feelings. Mary Lou was sure that the commandant had a +pick on Mr. Wilkins. + +"I reckon he'd ought to give this here Wilkins a better job and present +him with a purse, hey?" Lafe sneered. "I reckon they'd ought to make him +boss of all them soldiers. Then him and Mary Lou could get married and +everything would be lovely. Yes, I reckon that's the nicest way to treat +a deserter." + +"Why, Lafe," Hetty remonstrated, "don't you see? He just left to make +enough money to marry Mary Lou. He did it all for her. Wasn't it grand +of him?" + +The boss threw up his hands and walked off to the spring, where he could +smoke and clear his brain of the cobwebs of sentiment. He was not to be +allowed to dismiss the matter so lightly. When she had him in the house, +Hetty pounced upon him again. Hardly had he taken a chair, than she came +to sit on his knee and began stroking his hair. Lafe would not have had +a citizen of Badger see this ridiculous performance for all the wealth +stored in the depths of the mountains, but he nevertheless submitted to +it with a sort of reluctant enjoyment. + +"Mary Lou and I," said Hetty, "we thought that if you would speak to Mr. +Horne, he would speak to that soldier man." + +"Would he, now? And what has ol' Horne got to say to that general, or +whatever he is?" + +"Why, you baby, don't you see? Mr. Horne and that man who runs the fort +are friends. Now, Mary Lou and I thought that if Mr. Horne would only +say something nice about Wilkins, he'd let him go. Don't you think he +would?" + +"Oh, sure. He'd pin a medal on that feller. It's like he'd put it on +with a sword, though, to make it stick." + +"Oh, Lafe," Hetty said, almost in tears. + +Lafe groaned and gave up the fight. It would be utterly useless, he told +her--who ever heard of such a proposition made to serious men? But, of +course, if Hetty wanted her husband to make an idiot of himself, he +supposed he would have to do so. + +"It won't be much trouble," Hetty coaxed. She added: "There, I knew my +boy would help me." + +Her boy approached the task with much misgiving and very shamefacedly. +He was not a skillful pleader at any time, being accustomed to take what +he wanted, instead of asking for it. As a result, old Horne bellowed: +"Haw, haw," and slapped his leg and rolled about in his chair, gurgling +that Lafe would be the death of him yet. Then Mrs. Horne came into the +room. + +"What's this all about?" she inquired. + +Johnson told her and withdrew. The cowman was still chortling. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +AND DISCOVERS HETTY'S BROTHER + + +However, when he joined Lafe at the stables that afternoon, he looked a +very chastened individual. Had Lafe seen the gradual transition in mood, +from huge merriment to exasperation and then protest and resentful +surrender, he would have understood better. Horne volunteered nothing of +what had passed, so he went to Mrs. Horne. That lady informed him that +her husband would use his best endeavor with the commandant. There +appeared to be no question in her mind that this was the only course +open to him, and Johnson, who had come prepared for a few timely jokes +on the matter, muttered: "Yes, ma'am, I sure am obliged," and walked +away like a chidden child. + +Two weeks later he moved his outfit south again. And at their old camp +on the San Pedro, Wilkins walked in on them. His advent was not +unexpected, but Lafe found it impossible to give him more than frigid +civility. The man had been recreant to his trust and he was going to get +out of it through the intercession of women; that was enough to damn him +in the eyes of Lafe and his kind. + +"Howdy," said Wilkins unconcernedly. "I'm going back." + +"So I done heard." + +"I got the letter here," Wilkins continued, fumbling in his shirt bosom. +"He says if I go back, they'll let me off easy on account of previous +good conduct." + +"Huh-huh. Sure," said the boss grimly, "I'll let you have a horse and +you can ride with us in the morning. We start at four o'clock, +remember." + +A sergeant of cavalry and two troopers sat their horses beside the big +corrals where the custom men inspect the cattle, when the cavalcade +arrived. They led a spare mount. At sight of them, Wilkins left the +party and loped ahead. The soldiers waited for him on the other side. He +went unhesitatingly through the gate--jubilant, alert and smiling, like +a girl going to her first dance. The sergeant advanced and Wilkins +extended his hand. The soldier ignored it. + +"Here's your horse, Johnson," said Wilkins. "You've been mighty decent. +Muchas gracias. All right, Osborne. I'm ready." + +"Hold on," Lafe cut in; "say, wait a minute. What's the matter, anyhow? +What's it all about? I want to get the rights of this." + +"A deserter, Mr. Johnson," said the sergeant. "He used to be in Troop F. +Ran off, he did. Some post exchange funds went, too." + +"That's a lie," Wilkins shouted; "I never touched a cent. And you know +it better'n anybody else, Osborne." + +"We've been chasing him a year, Mr. Johnson." + +Wilkins was watching Lafe much as a dog would watch his master to see +whether he was angry. "I'd like to talk to you a minute, if you're +agreeable, Mr. Johnson." The sergeant nodded acquiescence, and he led +Lafe aside. "It's a wonder you'll speak to me after that. Osborne, +there--he wouldn't shake hands." + +"I'm not a soldier," the boss said guardedly. + +"And I'm not a thief. You believe that, don't you? It was the rotten +sameness of the life. Oh, you know how it is--and Mary Lou +waiting--well, I hated the post, and it wasn't long before I grew to +hate the boys. What'd you say? Sure, they're all right. But when you're +cooped up with the same crowd day in and day out, the best men on earth +will soon hate one another. You ain't never done it, so you don't know. +Nothing to see but those ol' mountains, solemn as death all the time." +He broke off, striving to compose himself. "See that high one yonder? I +swear I've seen it nodding at me. Yes, sir, just like this. And Mary Lou +and her father--oh, I got afraid of those hills--honest to God, I did. +And the boys--why even your cowboys look down on us. And Mary Lou--so I +beat it and swore I'd never come back." + +"But you did." + +"That's the queer part of it"--he laughed without mirth--"I can't +rightly explain that myself. Mary Lou--no, I'd have come back anyhow. I +was going dippy down there among the yellow-bellies. And Mary Lou, +she--" + +He told Lafe that he had wandered four times to the line, merely to get +a glimpse of the country. The air this side of the border fence was +different to the other; he was positive of that, although the boundary +consisted of some strands of barbed wire. Once a corporal, returning +from Naco to the post, had come upon him a mile within American +territory. What was he doing there? Oh, just looking round. He had taken +back with him a prickly-pear plant. The corporal had almost caught +Wilkins that time, but he managed to put the fence between them. On the +other side he could twiddle his fingers at the corporal, who dared not +pursue. + +Johnson was puzzled and said so. "What were you hanging round here for? +With a good job at the mines, you had a chance to start all over again." + +"That's what I'm a-telling you, consarn it. With the whole wide world to +wander in, I kept sneaking back to this fence like a sick pup. Ain't it +hell?" The aching sadness of a very homesick man had him fast. He stared +up the San Pedro valley and drew in a slow, deep breath. His voice was +unsteady when he tried to resume. + +"And Mary Lou--I sent her messages, and she kept saying--" + +"Oh, well," said Lafe, "if you're going to cry over it, I'm off. Adios." + +"Don't be a bloody fool. Hey, wait a minute, Johnson." + +The escort could not be kept waiting all night, the sergeant shouted. + +"Keep your shirt on, Osborne. I'll have to be quiet long enough from +to-day." + +"About three years, I'm thinking," the sergeant said gloatingly. + +Wilkins let the remark pass. He was gazing at two riders who were +advancing down the lane towards the corrals. "Why--no, it can't be. Yes, +it is. It's Mary Lou." + +It was, indeed, Mary Lou; and Lafe's wife was with her. Johnson was not +especially pleased to see her there, but he wisely refrained from +comment. The two women approached the group. Mary Lou shook hands +gravely with Wilkins and Lafe was glad that he did not try to kiss her, +or betray any sentimental weakness. The pair accepted the situation +soberly and Mary Lou called to her friend to come forward. + +"This," she said shyly, "is Bill. Shake hands with Mrs. Johnson, Bill." + +"How do you--Bob, Bob! It's you," Hetty squealed. + +The manner of Mrs. Johnson's introduction was this--she jumped her horse +close to the deserter and clasped him in her arms. He was equally +fervent on his part. He held her tight and cried: "Hetty! Little Hetty." + +Lafe experienced a not unnatural curiosity. He thrust between them and +wanted to know who the gentleman might be who seemed so fond of his +wife, and, glaring at that unabashed young woman, inquired what she +meant by it. The troopers were grinning. The sergeant looked annoyed. + +"Why, Lafe dear, this is Bob." + +"So I done heard you say," said Lafe. "Bob who? What're you hugging him +for?" + +"He's my brother." + +The boss's tongue clove to the roof of his mouth and he sat dumbly, +looking at his wife. Mary Lou and Hetty were patting Wilkins' hand and +making much of him. They did not seem to appreciate the fact that he was +an outcast and a prisoner, but treated him as if they had every reason +to be proud of this reunion. + +"So your name ain't Wilkins? It's Ferrier?" Lafe said slowly. + +"Yes," said the other. + +"Oh, Lafe, we must get him off sure." + +Johnson silenced her and turned his back on the deserter. Curtly he told +Hetty that the escort was waiting. He ordered her to come with him and +to bring Mary Lou. + +"Tell Bob good-by," she insisted. + +"So long," said the boss grudgingly. + +"No, that won't do. You've got to shake hands with him." + +Lafe glanced at her radiant face and what he was about to say never came +out. He stuck out his long arm towards Wilkins, who grasped his hand +eagerly. + +The misery of indecision had dropped from the deserter like a cloak that +is shed. He laughed encouragingly over his shoulder at Hetty, as he +turned to leave. + +"Did you expect me to holler, Johnson?" he asked. "Not much! Why, this +is going home, to me." + +"Ready?" Osborne cried. + +"And when I get out, I'll be able to look you boys in the face, too. Not +you, Osborne. You can't look me in the eye right now. Pshaw! What is a +year in a lifetime?" + +"Quit your preaching. Come on." + +"Adios, Mary Lou. Adios, Hetty. So long, Johnson. I'll see you soon." + +"Guard and prisoner--'tention! Fours--left about--march!" + +They swung around and made northwest, Wilkins in their midst. He was +making his horse prance and was humming "Dixie." Once he looked back and +waved his arm in a wide gesture towards the Huachucas, towering on the +left; to the right, the straggling Mules range; and the San Pedro valley +between, stretching away for eighty miles. + +"What about this little ol' country now, hey?" he shouted. "What do you +think of her, hey? How about this air? Lord!" + +Hetty waved at him, but Mary Lou, who had drawn out a handkerchief to do +the same, wept into it instead. They started slowly homeward, Lafe +ambling along in gloomy quiet. Hetty did not perceive his mood, being +too uplifted over her brother's recovery to be cognizant of lesser +things. She ranged beside her husband. There were tears on her cheeks, +but she was smiling and humming "Dixie." + +"Isn't it just like heaven? Here I haven't seen him in six years. Just +think of finding him like this. Oh, I never thought I could be so +happy." + +"You bet," the boss said scathingly. "This is simply great, this is. +He's gone to jail, I suppose you know? And I've got to get him out, I +reckon." + +"You can do that all right," Hetty declared--she had a vague idea that +Lafe administered the entire law of the land, the High justice and the +Low--"What does the jail matter, anyhow? We've got him back." + +"Yes, it's all right now," Mary Lou agreed and dried her eyes. + +"Oh, pshaw," said Lafe, settling to the ride. "What's the use?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +GREAT EXPECTATIONS IN JOHNSON FAMILY + + +"Say, Dan." + +"Huh-huh?" + +"Did you ever feel kind of sudden like you'd done something before?" +Lafe inquired. + +It was a month later and we were riding through the dusk up the Caņon +towards his home. This was too abstruse. + +"I mean," he explained, "sometimes when you're at some place or looking +at something, haven't you had a quick idea that you'd done the same +thing in the same place a long time ago? Haven't you ever felt that way, +Dan?" + +"Often." + +"I wonder," said he, "what's the reason?" + +"It's probably a recurring impression--a remembrance of an act performed +years ago." + +He shook his head. "No-oo. It ain't that. I ain't never rode up here +with you before. This is the first time me and you have been here +together, ain't it? Yet I swear it struck me just now that, so long ago +I can't call to mind when, me and you were trotting along just like +this." + +"Perhaps we were chums in a previous existence. There is the +transmigration of souls, you know." + +Lafe answered impatiently that the phenomenon could not be explained on +any such grounds and expressed surprise that a man of my seeming sense +would credit such theories. It seemed to rankle in him strangely. He +grumbled to himself for a considerable distance, and was so visibly put +out that I switched the talk. + +"How's Bob getting along?" I ventured. + +It proved an unfortunate choice of topics. Ferrier had been given a year +in the cells by the commandant of the post, and then Horne had gone to +his succor. And although the major had vowed to high heaven that no +deserter would ever be dealt with leniently by him, he had yielded +finally to the point of cutting down his punishment. It is true that +there were many extenuating circumstances, and Ferrier seemed so sincere +in his desire to atone that his commander was favorably inclined. So it +ended by Hetty's brother escaping with thirty days' confinement. Then, +anxious to get him away from old associations, and comrades who knew the +mistakes of his past, Johnson arranged through Horne to pay for his +discharge. + +All this had he done. Indeed, Lafe had labored unceasingly for his +brother-in-law. Yet he railed against him, even while he aided. Like +many men who never shirk from helping when it is most needed, Johnson +could never hear the object of his benefactions mentioned without +falling a victim to spleen. I should have avoided all reference to +Ferrier. + +"There's a brother-in-law for you," he snorted. "Yes, sir, he's sure a +treasure. I no sooner get him out of the cells for deserting, than off +he goes and--guess what he wants to do now?" + +"Borrow some money?" + +"You've hit it. Yes, sir, you've nailed it dead to rights. Here, after +all the trouble me and ol' Horne took with that general at the Fort, +that there feller Ferrier asks me to stake him, just as cool as you'd +ask for a match. Say, have you got one? I'm plumb out." + +"Oh, well," said I, "a man has to stand by his family." + +"He ain't my family." + +"He's Hetty's brother." + +"Sure. He's Hetty's brother and I ain't allowed to forget it, either. I +tell you what, Dan--when a man marries a woman, he marries all her kin, +too." + +With which bitter reflection Johnson borrowed some tobacco and rolled a +cigarette. After a space he remarked that Ferrier planned to settle on a +quarter-section within the Horne range, and that he required three +hundred dollars to make a start. Mary Lou Hardin was included in this +scheme of settlement, said Lafe, the idea being that two could live as +cheaply as one and that Bob would never amount to a row of beans unless +anchored and domesticated. He had nothing but scorn for such adolescent +reasoning. + +"When I think of the way a young feller cares for a girl, I want to +laugh," he said. "Pshaw, it's all mush. Nothing but talk, and those kids +make the talk do instead of work. And if it ain't mush, it's wind. I +tell you what--a man and a woman don't rightly care for each other, Dan, +until they're married." + +I stared at him. "Is that so? Well, well. Suppose they only wake up then +and find they don't care at all. That would be fierce." + +"Sure," he answered gravely. "It's a gamble. Why don't you take a +chance?" + +"That's my business." + +"Well, you needn't get all swelled up about it. Hetty was saying to me +only the other day--say, what're you so red in the face about?" + +"You and Hetty stick to housekeeping and let me run my own affairs," I +retorted hotly. Their presumption passed all bounds. "Whenever a man's +friends get married, they begin picking out a girl for him right off. I +suppose misery likes company." + +Johnson chuckled and said: "All right, let's forget it." It was very +apparent in what channel his thoughts moved, however, for he would keep +turning on me a broad smile. + +"What good are bachelors, anyhow?" he demanded. "They'd ought for to tax +'em heavy." + +"You talk like a mothers' meeting, Lafe." + +"Well, I've got the rights of this thing, anyhow. Bachelors make me +think of what Frank Hastings said once about a mule--up on the Plains, +this was--'without pride of ancestry or hope of posterity,' Frank said." + +"Huh! Frank read that somewhere." + +For an hour we were silent. Night closed down over the Caņon. The +mountains seemed to take a long breath and settle to rest. It was warm, +and so we were hopeful of rain within a week, or perhaps two. Our ponies +swashed the dust lazily side by side, and we said no word, for the +coming of dark in our country will still speech in anyone but a clod or +a fool. + +A Jack-o'-Lantern rose in front of us, twinkling like a diamond against +black velvet. It held steady for a moment, then flitted eerily in +darting curves, soaring high until it appeared a tiny star. Our folk say +that little Jack is a lost soul, doomed to haunt the place of his +earthly woes; but I have a pleasanter theory. + +"Look at him," said Johnson in a tone almost reverent. "That there shiny +feller's been following of me at nights now something ridiculous. If I +ain't out on the range, I swan he comes loafing round the house. +Honest." + +"I like 'em." + +"You do? I wonder what they are?" + +"Why, you mean to say you don't know? I'm surprised at you, Lafe. +They're human souls seeking a lodging." + +He exploded into laughter. "Is that so?" said he. Facing to the front +again, he fell to musing. "Is that so?" he repeated. "You're sure a wolf +on souls, Dan." + +Hetty was on the porch to receive us. With her was Ferrier, big and +straight and indolent. She bade me welcome with frank heartiness as an +old friend, but there was distinct coldness in her greeting of Lafe. I +could not but observe it. When he would have kissed her, she turned her +cheek to him; she submitted even to this with evident reluctance. A +tiff--a doting couple's tiff--I concluded, and engaged Ferrier in +conversation. He had scarcely a word to say, and walked beside me so +lazily when we went to put the horses in the pasture, that my patience +was sorely taxed. That was the way with soldiers, I reflected--once a +soldier, never any good for anything else. Yet what little he uttered +contradicted this notion, for he seemed in earnest. Apparently Bob had +been doing some hard thinking and he was determined to get a foothold on +the broad, straight highway. + +As we were entering the house: "Oh, do be quiet. Let me alone. You worry +me half to death. A lot you care what becomes of me. Here, you're off +all day and sometimes long after dark, and I've got--" + +"Why, hon," Lafe was pleading, "I've got my work to do. You know I stay +home every minute I can. Ol' Horne says I'm tied to your apron strings. +What's got into you, Hetty?" + +"Nothing's the matter with me. For heaven's sake, shut up and let me +have a little peace. I say you don't care what becomes of me. No, you +don't. Here, I've had a splitting headache and when I tell you about it, +all you do is grin. Now, don't go and try to tell me you feel for me." + +"What do you want me to do? Cry on your shoulder? A man can't make a +fuss over them things, Hetty." + +"There you go again--making fun of me. If I was to die to-night, +nobody'd care--not even Bob. I wish I could die. You could go back to +Paula then." + +"Hon," said Lafe, in a choked voice. + +Bob wiped his feet noisily on the steps and I coughed. When we entered, +there was no trace of a dispute or of anger on Hetty's countenance. +Supper was ready and we sat down to it with grand appetites. + +In the morning the repair of a windmill at a water tank compelled our +setting out to Badger to purchase pipe and joints. Lafe explained the +purpose of the trip at unusual length to his wife. She listened stonily +and told him to go by all means--told him with that high air of +resignation we put on when we acquiesce in anything we are powerless to +prevent. Just as we started, Johnson tried to put his arm about her. On +being repulsed, he slowly mounted his horse. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +BIRTH OF LAFE JOHNSON, JR. + + +We were going down the Caņon when Hetty called after us: "Well, don't +take any bad money, you two." + +She stood in the doorway, wiping flour from her hands. Bob was grinning +over her shoulder. The caution must have reminded Lafe. He slapped his +hip pocket and extracted a wallet, from which he drew two soiled bills. + +"Here," he said, riding back, "you keep this, Hetty. I've got three +dollars in silver. That'll do me." + +"You're learning," was her composed comment, and she slipped the money +inside the bosom of her waist. After this agreeable exhibition of +domestic foresight, we rode down the Caņon and started across the +valley. It may be that I showed amusement. + +"What's hurting you?" Lafe asked; "what I done then? That's the only way +I can save money. It's right queer, Dan, but whenever I have any and get +to town, it goes like a bat out of hell." + +This information was wholly superfluous. "I usually have to charge my +horse's keep and my meals," I confessed. + +"Sure. It's in the blood, I reckon. But if me and you and all the others +don't learn to sweat a dollar, all these here new people a-coming in +from the States will take everything off'n us. Yes, sir, they'll have us +bare to the hides. Some of 'em have got the first two-bits they ever +earned." + +The only previous occasion on which I had seen Johnson hoard his money +was once when he hid it in the band of his hat as a safeguard against +new-found friends, and, during subsequent operations, forgot its hiding +place. Lafe had been bitterly chagrined on discovering it later, holding +himself cheated of entertainment. Assuredly his new responsibilities +were working a change of heart. + +"Lafe, I never knew Hetty was so pretty." + +"You're whistlin'," he said. An accompanying sniff signified surprise +and contempt that my recognition was so tardy. We jogged along and he +became thoughtful. Finally he asked: "Did you notice it, too?" + +"Notice what?" + +"Well, I kind of got the idea that Hetty was prettier now than she used +to was. When you said that just now, it made me think you seen it, too." + +I nodded earnestly. There had come a look into Hetty's eyes which caused +one to wait expectantly for a halo to appear. + +"But she's sort of poorly," he went on; "seems like everything I do +makes her mad. I expect everybody gets that way some time or other, +more especially if they live off by themselves where they never see no +one. Don't you reckon?" + +"Perhaps it's Bob." + +"No-oo, I don't think so. But she does get mad about him sometimes--not +at Bob, though. Anything that lazy scamp does is all right. No, sir; at +me. She got mad because I said I wouldn't let him have that money. I +can't spare it, Dan. Honest, I can't. And she says I leave her alone too +much." + +"She'll soon get over that." + +"Sometimes she's worse'n others. Yeow, how she gives it to me some +days." + +We reached town in good time and put up at the Fashion, where were three +of the Anvil boys. Johnson hailed their presence with proper ceremonies, +and then drew me to one side. + +"Say," said he, "I've got to see the new sheriff for a minute. I'll pull +out right after dinner. What're you going to do? Stick around?" + +"Oh, I suppose so. Nothing else to do." + +"Well, if you should happen for to play pitch," he advised, "don't bid +more'n your hand's worth. Remember your weakness. Adios." + +Two months later we two again rode together up Hope Caņon. Bob Ferrier +was behind us and was soberly elated, for that afternoon Johnson had +loaned him three hundred dollars and I had gone security. He would wed +Mary Lou on the morrow. + +The sun was setting behind The Hatter as we neared the house. It was a +blissful twilight, and Lafe sang in gladness of heart. + + But he chanced one day to run agin + A bullet made o' lead, + Which was harder than he bargained for, + And now poor Bill is dead; + And when they brung his body home + A barrel of tears was shed. + +He ended with a halloo as we topped the last rise. There was no response +or sign from the house. A puzzled look came over his face and he was +down before his horse came to a stop. He sprang through the door. + +"Hetty!" he shouted. "Hetty!" Then in a voice hoarse from fear: "She +ain't here. She ain't here. Hetty, where are you?" + +He was rushing frantically from one room to another. Ferrier was more +methodical. He found a piece of paper under a cup on the kitchen table, +which he read and handed to his brother-in-law. + + I can't stand it any longer. I am going away. You'll soon get + over it. Be sure to feed the dog. Good-by. + +Johnson held the penciled lines at arm's length, while I waited for him +to say something. It is my belief that he did not distinguish the words +after the first perusal. Then he began to laugh. + +"Why, it can't be--Hetty, she wouldn't--say, it must be a joke--what +does it mean?" + +Bob lifted his shoulders in a shrug he had picked up from the Mexicans. +It stung Lafe. + +"Where has she gone? Do you know anything about this?" + +"Not me. She's been mighty queer lately, Lafe. Where could she go?" + +We could only look at one another while we mentally debated +possibilities. Hetty had no kith or kin in this region, and the nearest +point was Badger. She could not have gone there, else we should have +passed her on the road. + +"Mary Lou's!" Bob exclaimed. "I'll swear that's where she's hit for." + +Johnson remained beside the table a moment, deep in thought. Then he +smote his hands together and an expression of relief lighted his face. + +"I'll go get her," he told us. + +We were for accompanying him to the Hardins' place, but had not gone +more than a few hundred yards when he pulled up and requested that we go +back. This matter was between him and Hetty--he said it with some +hesitation--and it were better that he go alone. So we turned back, only +to halt again. + +"He might need some help," was Bob's excuse. "Supposing she's sick. What +do you say if we trail him?" + +"Come on." + +It was now after nine o'clock and there was small probability of Johnson +perceiving us. Yet we kept far in rear lest he hear our horses. We had +proceeded perhaps a mile when he amazed us by riding back. Lafe was +going at a lope and he did not pause. To our utter consternation he took +no notice of our presence, but went by at a clatter and swerved to the +right up a narrow ravine. + +"He's crazy," said Ferrier. "He must have gone out of his head. Let's +drift." + +"Wait, Lafe. Wait!" I bellowed. + +We jabbed with the spurs and went in pursuit. Presently we saw Lafe's +horse standing riderless amid the post-oak, nibbling at the grass, and +some distance in front we heard the stroke of his spur. He must have +stubbed his toe, for he fell, and swore with freedom. That permitted us +to gain on him, but he picked himself up and went forward at an ungainly +run. + +"What's got into him?" said Bob. He was puffing. We had abandoned our +horses and were legging it after him as best we could. + +"Search me!" I said breathlessly. + +Far ahead I could see a spark burning. It was going steadily up the +ravine. Surely Lafe could not be smoking; I dismissed this idea at once, +for we could see him dimly and he was much nearer than the spark. It +seemed to expand and cavort with glee as we came on. + +The ravine had always been a favorite spot with Hetty. There were shady +places in it during the day, however merciless the aching void of sky, +and often had she brought her sewing to sit there, listening to the +acorns drop in the hushed stillness. + +"Gee, I can't run another step," said Ferrier. "You go on. Lafe! Stop!" + +We both ceased running. I was compelled to clutch the limb of a tree to +hold myself upright. The spark ahead of us was now grown to a ball of +fire, giving off a vaporous sheen. Still it kept on, and the runner in +front slowed to a walk: Lafe was as little accustomed to this exercise +as we were. Then I perceived that Jack-o'-Lantern had come to a stop. He +flashed above a tree, dipped downward, poised in midair. + +"Hal-loo," came a cry from Johnson. "Here I am. Hurry! Hurry!" + +"Let's try again," Bob gasped, and we forced our cramped limbs into a +run. + +Lafe was bending over a white object that lay huddled at the base of a +tree. + +"It's her," said he, as we arrived. + +Hetty was unconscious, and had her head pillowed in the crook of one +arm. Often so had Lafe seen her lying asleep, on tiptoeing into the room +when returned from distant parts of the range. + +"Here," Bob grunted. "Give me her legs. Help with the shoulders, Dan." + +"I'll take 'em myself," Lafe said fiercely. + +We lifted her very slowly and tenderly, and started back. Twice were we +obliged to set our burden down and rest, but we managed to carry her +back to the house. As we were placing her on the bed, Hetty revived and +opened her eyes. + +"Get away," she said fretfully to her husband. "You're always smelling +of that tobacco. Get away. You make me tired." + +"Hetty," Lafe whispered, groping for her hand. + +"What're you looking so scared about?" his wife asked. "Leave me be, +now. I hate you." + +"Better get out," I cautioned. "Go and fetch Armstrong." + +A few minutes later we heard the rattle of his horse's hoofs, going at +full speed towards Badger. He had saddled a fresh mount. And we composed +ourselves there in chairs beside the bed, to wait--listening to Hetty's +moans when she would rouse from the semi-trance which held her. Never +had I felt so helpless and so wholly wretched. + +"Tut-tut," said Dr. Armstrong, when knocked up from bed. "Keep your +shirt on, man. It isn't the first time in the history of the world, nor +the last, I take it. She's a strong woman. Brace up." + +Nevertheless, he made all speed, and although three score years had +beaten over his rugged head, he never once complained during the long +ride. Johnson went at a gallop, with brief, impatient periods of +dogtrotting to breathe their horses. They covered the fourteen miles in +fifty-seven minutes, and it was not much after one o'clock when they +clattered up to the door. + +Lafe would have pushed into the room had not the doctor thrust him back. +At the same time Hetty turned in the bed and cried petulantly that she +would not have him near. + +"Out you go," he ordered, "do you hear me? Don't go whining round here. +That's nothing unusual." + +The husband demurred, but Armstrong shoved him outside. As he was +passing from the room, the doctor said to him over his shoulder in a +tone of intense joy--the joy of the born physician in a fair fight +against the Enemy: "She's liable to swear at you in a minute. Does she +know how to swear? I've heard some of 'em cuss me everything they could +lay their tongues to." It was almost a chortle he emitted, but he was +solemn enough before Lafe had closed the door. + +There is a flat rock on the slope in front of the Johnson house, and +Lafe and Bob and I sat thereon and tried to smoke. It was of no use. +Lafe simply could not remain still. He suddenly remembered the horses, +which we had entirely forgotten, and led them to the spring to be +watered. That done, he unsaddled and turned them into the pasture. The +beasts gave a long sigh of relief, shook themselves, lay down to roll, +and began to graze. We joined him at the fence. Johnson spread his +elbows on the top rail and kept his gaze on a brilliant spark that was +rocketing among the cottonwoods. He turned away at last and took to +wandering round and round the house, staring at the light in their +bedroom window. Ferrier and I followed dumbly, finding no words to +comfort. Lafe left us and rapped timidly on the door. + +"I told you to get out and stay out!" Armstrong hissed. The doctor was +not a nervous person, but he was strung to high tension. We caught +Hetty's voice, raised in querulous supplication. It was very weak and +seemed to carry reproach of Lafe, and he shrank back. + +"Get out, I tell you. Go 'tend the horses," said Armstrong, giving him a +push. + +"I done 'tended 'em." + +"Well, take a run up and kill that wildcat that's screeching up there. +Don't shoot it. Smash him with a rock, or something; but drag it out of +here. Move, now. Send that brother-in-law of yours to me. I need him." + +Johnson faded from the door, and we paced the ground in front of the +porch. Something moist touched his hand and Lafe whipped it away, but it +was only his mongrel dog come for a caress. For the first time since +manhood Lafe knew real fear--not the nervous tension of an emergency, +but sick, craven fear. A peculiar nausea where his stomach ought to be +took all his courage away, and he rolled another cigarette in the hope +of steadying his nerves. As he struck a match, he recalled what his wife +had said about the brand of tobacco he favored and he threw the stub +away. + +"Why, she ain't much more'n a girl"--he was fondling the dog's +ears--"just a kid." + +I guessed what was passing in his mind. Thoughts of trifling things he +might have done for Hetty, to the easement of her lot, rose up to +reproach. When a man has gone through that, he has known anguish of +soul. But they were instantly submerged in a new tenderness. In that +hour of trial, Lafe learned many things. + +The creak of a cautious step on the boards of the porch brought him +standing and when Armstrong emerged, Lafe was there to meet him, pallid +of face, but entirely calm. + +"It's all right. Don't look that way, Lafe. No, you can't come in. I +came out for a drink. Where's the bucket? Whew, it's hot." + +Johnson poured him a cup of water and carried the canteen to the spring +to be refilled. On his return he stepped into the kitchen. Growing +uneasy over his long absence, I went in search of him, strolling +carelessly to the door. The room was in darkness, so I struck a match. +There was Lafe behind the door, with an old apron of Hetty's clutched in +both hands. He was simply looking at it, and looking. + +"Lafe," I said. He dropped the apron hurriedly and came out. We did not +face each other. "Tell me something." + +"Let's have it. What do you want to know?" + +I hesitated, doubtful how he might take the question. + +"Well?" + +"How did you know where to hunt? What made you think Hetty was up +there?" + +"I didn't think," he replied. "Didn't you see that li'l firefly? The +minute I set eyes on him, he sort of seemed to wave at me. Yes, sir. I +remembered what you'd said, too, Dan. Jim-in-ee, there he is again. +Look!" + +Jack-o'-Lantern had abandoned his game of hide-and-seek among the trees +and was now circling the house. He twinkled from door to window, as +though to peep in. Perhaps something discouraged him; at any rate, he +continued to flit in long, soaring glides. Lafe noted these, marveling, +and we squatted on the rock again, determined to stay there. Then, +looking upward to a star which shone in line with the chimney, he +perceived the eerie light quivering above the roof. The location +evidently suited Jack-o'-Lantern, for there he hung. + +At last there were sounds within, and Johnson clutched the dog where it +crouched between his knees. The brute whined under the grip of his +fingers. We got to our feet and the dog looked up at us in doubt, much +mystified as to what all this could mean. + +The merry spark above the roof gave a final twinkle and went out. At the +same moment an inner door opened, releasing a flood of light into the +hall-way, and a high-pitched, treble yell that lifted the hair at the +nape of my neck and set Johnson to shaking, rent the night air with the +suddenness of a popping cork. + +The doctor stuck his head out of the door. He called in suppressed glee: +"Come on in, Lafe. She wants you. Say, he's a dandy." + +Jack-o'-Lantern had found a habitation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +JOHNSON ONCE MORE IN ROLE OF SHERIFF + + +Horne of the Anvil approached his sixtieth year full of vigor. His +birthday would also mark the thirtieth anniversary of his marriage. It +had been a fat season. His steers were rollicking, the calves romped +high-tailed, the valley pastures held clear-eyed cows and his horses +were a comfort between one's knees. Therefore Horne saw that all was +good and waxed content of heart, and he bade his boss, Lafe Johnson, to +make all ready for a dance, for it was in his mind to do honor to his +neighbors, humble and high. + +"Tell everybody to come a-running," said he, "and kill the fattest +yearlings we've got. Better pick brindles, though, Lafe. Those red ones +bring too much money." + +Thus happily did Horne temper his generous impulses with shrewdness. +These directions provoked a grin from Johnson, and he despatched his +riders east and west and north and south to summon the guests. From east +and west and north and south they came--a good seventy miles, some of +them. In couples, singly, in boisterous parties, they came riding up to +the Anvil headquarters. And the dance began. + +It had lasted two days and two nights and was running comfortably into +the third day when a killing occurred which made the function memorable +in cowland annals. Everything was going smoothly. There were more than a +hundred guests, and the orchestra was still vigorous and resourceful in +invention. He occupied a seat on a stool atop a table at one end of the +dining-room, and as he sawed with the bow he kept time to the cadences +with his left foot. Occasionally a volunteer would come to his +assistance and beat on the strings at the neck of the violin with small +sticks. This produced the effect of a guitar and was very popular with +those ladies who were a bit hazy as to the time of a measure. + + Oh-oo-oo, ladies to the left and gents to the right. + All hands round; now hold 'em tight. + +Lafe had been designated master of ceremonies and he stood near the +orchestra to call off the square dances. Never more than twenty couples +were on the floor at one time, but the rhythmical beat of their feet and +the welling dust were sufficient to make an onlooker dizzy. Whenever a +gentleman swung a lady, he really swung her--no mincing or faint-hearted +gyration. With their hands behind each other's shoulders, they spun +madly about, and the lady's skirt billowed to the movement. Both would +sway dizzily when they stopped. The other guests were sleeping, or +crowded into the kitchen, where were put out for refreshment huge +platters of barbecued beef, calves' heads roasted whole under live coals +in the ground for a whole night, and bread and pickles and cheese. Pots +of coffee steamed on the stove, and one had only to give the nod to +Jerry Sellers to be honorably escorted to the saddle-shed wherein on a +stool rested a full-bellied keg. Jerry had constituted himself Lafe's +right-hand man and never relaxed in his vigilant attention to duty. Had +it not been for this first aid to the weary, the orchestra would long +since have knocked under, but Harry vowed that he would hold out as long +as the keg did, and everybody had confidence in him. + +"The next piece," he announced, "is a li'l piece I done composed myself. +It is called 'The Bull in the Corn Brakes.' Get your partners. Polka it +is. Step to it." + +Aside from a slight grayness about the eyes, Lafe gave no evidence of +fatigue. His wife and young son were asleep in Mrs. Horne's bed. On the +floor in the same bedchamber were seven other women, resting from their +exertions. No special hours for repose had been set aside. All day and +all night the dance went on, never ceasing, and there were always +couples ready. Each guest lay down for a nap when he felt his system +required it, and he lay where his notion of comfort dictated. It was not +surprising then that one tripped over men stretched out under blankets +on the veranda; the yard was cumbered with them, too. + +The lady guests were provided for in the five bedrooms of the house. As +for the children, of whom there were a dozen or more, now grown fretful +from overexcitement, they played in the yard, or down in the corrals +with some Shetland ponies Horne had imported. Only at meal times did +they give their mothers any concern. And the orchestra still held out, +having been thrice relieved that he might take naps. + +Mrs. Paint Davis fed beer out of a bottle to her yearling son. The +child's eyes grew heavy from it. A prudish person ventured to protest to +the father. + +"Pshaw, no," said Paint. "You can't make that boy drunk. It'll learn him +to leave it alone when he's growed." + +Jerry Sellers took Mordecai Bass to the saddle-shed to give him a drink. +Mordecai said something that Sellers did not like. A reluctant rebuke +was followed up by a sharp word. Ensued a furious outburst from Jerry, a +pacific remonstrance from Bass, then blows. Lafe Johnson happened to +emerge from the house to clear the dust from his lungs, and heard the +altercation. He arrived in time to separate the two, and so successful +were his labors as a peacemaker that they shook hands before parting. + +"It's all along of Florence Steel," Jerry explained to his chief. +"Mordecai, he thinks I'm trying to set to her. Just because I had four +dances--yes, and a li'l something I done remarked, pleasant like." + +On Lafe's return to the ballroom, he saw Florence waltzing with the +half-breed Baptismo. Baptismo was showing his white teeth, and he +whispered when he perceived Johnson. He was a strikingly handsome man +and possessed a peculiar fascination for women. Men disliked him and +Lafe's pride of blood was such that he usually ignored Baptismo. Had it +been his dance, the half-breed would not have been there, but Horne had +bidden him from policy. + +An hour afterwards Lafe chanced to descry Jerry going to the spring for +a bucket of fresh water to hang beside the keg. Sellers sang as he +walked, swinging the bucket. + + Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee, + Where the wild ki-yotes will howl o'er me-- + +Lafe could hear him clearly where he leaned against the jamb of the +door. He smiled over the doleful song of the night guard, which never +occurred to Jerry unless he were feeling cheerful. + + Where the rattlesnakes hiss and the wind blows free-- + +There was an abrupt breaking-off after "free." Then a dreadful cry. + +"Lafe!" came Jerry's shout. + +Johnson ran towards the spring. Close to it Sellers was hunched on the +ground, doubled up over the bucket which stood between his legs. He was +quite dead. There was a deep wound in his back, just below the shoulder +blade. + +They carried him to the barn in order not to stampede the guests, and +roused Horne, who was sleeping. When they led him to view the body, the +cowman was not wholly awake. + +"Who did it?" he asked stupidly. + +That was what everybody asked his neighbor by silent questioning of +eyes. + +"I think I know," said Lafe. + +He left them and went in search of Bass. He could not find him at the +house. Upon that he sped to the corrals, but Mordecai's horse was gone. +The half-breed Baptismo informed him that Bass had ridden off only a few +minutes before. Johnson did not hesitate. He was no longer a sheriff, +but he was boss of the Anvil range, and Anvil hospitality had been +outraged and dishonored. He would track down the slayer. Arriving at +this decision while Horne plied question on question without obtaining a +reply, he went to inform Hetty. + +"All right," said that young woman sleepily. "Take care of yourself." + +It is probable that in her drowsy state she did not appreciate his +mission, else she would not have let him go so readily. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +HE ARRESTS A SUSPECT + + +Johnson caught his most dependable horse and rode out from the Anvil +headquarters. Strapped to his hip was a .45 Colt and he had a 30-30 +Winchester in his saddle holster. Florence Steel, on foot, overtook him +at the gate of the home pasture. + +"What's this I hear? Where're you going, Mr. Johnson?" + +Lafe told her glibly that he had been sent by Mr. Horne to recover +certain cattle which had been run off by hostile nesters during the +festivities. It was true that some cattle had been stolen. + +"Sure," said Florence, gazing intently into his face. "If you meet up +with him, better watch out. A man who'll stab in the back will do most +anything." + +"What do you know about this?" + +"When you catch him," the girl added, "just give him this. Ask if this +doesn't belong to him." She thrust into Johnson's hand a large clasp +knife. There were blood stains on the blades and handle. Lafe nodded and +put it in his pocket. He did not even inquire how the girl had come by +it. + +About dusk, on the following day, Johnson sighted Bass moving quietly +up a ravine on the west side of The Hatter. Some cottonwoods intervened +to spoil a shot. Lafe made a detour and quickened his pace, hoping to +head him off. As he emerged from the ravine on to a mesa, Bass perceived +him. Instead of fleeing, he turned his horse and threw up an arm as a +caution to Lafe to halt. + +"What do you want?" he cried. + +"I want you. Better come along quiet. It'll save trouble." + +"I wouldn't choose to, thanks. No. I reckon I won't." + +Johnson was not one to take chances with an assassin. He began to pump +his Winchester. At the second shot Bass's horse lurched forward on to +his knees with a scream and stretched out, its legs stiff. His rider +scrambled clear and shot Johnson through the fleshy part of his right +forearm before he could pull again. + +The boss had drawn his six-shooter and was coming on. He coolly changed +the weapon to his left hand and threw down on him at twenty yards. + +It had often been asserted in Badger that the sheriff could not miss at +any distance under two hundred feet. This was scarcely an exaggeration. +He had pulled only once when Bass held up empty hands in token of +surrender. His gun lay on the ground and two fingers of his right hand +were gone. + +"I reckon I ought to have killed you, Mordecai," said Lafe, "but I +couldn't forget that me and you had slept under the same blankets. Do +you remember that roundup on the Lazy L? What'd you do this for?" + +"I knew you'd think I did it," was all Bass said, and he began to make a +ligature out of his handkerchief. + +"Well, get up here in front and come along. We've got twenty-one miles +ahead of us. Let's go." + +"I know what you want me for," Bass said, "but you're wrong, Lafe. I +didn't do it." + +"How do you know it was done, then?" said Lafe. "Only three of us knew +when I left the ranch. That was five minutes after we done found him." + +His prisoner did not explain, but climbed obediently into the saddle in +front of Johnson. Riding thus balanced, the horse could carry both, but +it was punishing work, and not until eleven hours later did they make +the county town. Lafe turned his prisoner over to the sheriff and saw +him safely in jail under lock and key. As he was leaving, he said: +"Here's your knife." + +"Where did you find it?" + +"Where you threw it." + +"I done lost it at the dance," said Bass. + +On this Johnson placed the knife in the sheriff's keeping, to be used as +Exhibit A. When his arm had been dressed, he returned to the Anvil +headquarters. + +All the guests had departed and, though Mrs. Horne was prostrated and +the cowman much perturbed, the cowboys of the outfit had started on +their roundup. A trifle like a murder must not interfere with business. +When he had driven Hetty and the boy home, Lafe joined the chuckwagon at +the camp on Bull Creek and took charge of operations. + +After supper on the first night Johnson took part in a game of pitch. It +was not his habit to play with his men, as being subversive of +discipline, but he was worried and needed distraction. Baptismo, the +half-breed, was in the game. He was working through the roundup as +strayman for the Gourd. Although Lafe lost, the play excited him to +cheeriness and he began to drone, as he riffled the cards-- + + Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee, + Where the wild ki-yotes will howl o'er me-- + +"What's the matter, Baptismo?" he asked suddenly. + +"Nothing's the matter. Go on and deal," said the strayman. He smiled at +Lafe, but his hands were unsteady. The boss played wretchedly and lost +more than he could afford. + +"Whatever are you thinking about, Lafe?" exclaimed his partner, in +exasperation. "I swear I never done saw a raw beginner overbid his hand +worse'n you done." + +"I'm right sorry. I was studying over something." + +On the round next morning the boss made it a point to ride with +Baptismo. The outfit was dispersed in a wide semi-circle covering an +area five miles in diameter, and moved slowly forward within sight of +one another, converging upon a cuplike valley. In this manner they drove +ahead of them all the cattle within the limits of their sweep. Usually +the half-breed was sent with the first bunch dispersed, for he was a +capable hand, but instead of posting Baptismo this morning as he did the +others, Lafe kept him at his side. Side by side they trotted slowly +through the sage-brush, with the cattle careering in front, pausing +often to look back at them. Several times Lafe raised his voice merrily. + +"Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee," he sang. + +The half-breed glanced at him obliquely and remarked: "You seem right +fond of that song, Mr. Johnson." + +"Yes? Did I sing that before? I hadn't noticed it," the boss answered, +and went on with the verse. + +All through the day Johnson kept close to Baptismo. It was quite evident +that the half-breed had difficulty holding himself in check under this +close espionage, but the only emotion he betrayed was a quickened +alertness. And all through the day Lafe sang or hummed the ballad of +"The Dying Cowboy." + +On the next afternoon, as they were picking their way through a tangle +of ocatilla among the foothills, Johnson burst into full-throated +song-- + + Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee, + Where the wild ki-yotes will howl o'er me-- + Where the rattlesnakes hiss and the wind blows free-- + +"For the love of God!" said Baptismo. "Stop that song!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE DEATH DICE + + +He was shaking as with a chill, although the perspiration stood out on +chin and forehead. On hearing this Lafe glanced in his direction and +asked, good-naturedly enough, what was the matter. + +"Nothing," said the half-breed quickly, "only you haven't sung anything +else in two days but that song, and my nerves ain't good after the time +we had at the ranch." + +Several times in the course of the evening, as the outfit loafed in camp +after supper, the boss had occasion to pass Baptismo where he lay by the +fire. Each time he either hummed or whistled a line of "The Dying +Cowboy." + +Johnson had spread his tarp about thirty yards removed from his men. He +was a very light sleeper, accustomed to wake at least once in the course +of the night to look all around the camp and make sure that everything +was well. Therefore he heard Baptismo when the latter stood over him, +and he knew almost what each second of hesitation meant. Had the +half-breed moved, the boss would have shot him dead. After an interval, +Baptismo turned away and went softly to his own bed. + +In the gray of dawn, as the Anvil men were roping their mounts from the +remuda and the horses were plunging wildly into the press of their +brethren, Lafe called his strawboss and told him to take charge of the +work for the day. To Baptismo he said, placing a hand carelessly on the +half-breed's six-shooter: "I reckon you'd better come along with me, +Baptismo." With that he took possession of the gun. + +The man's nostrils flared quickly and he grew pallid about the lips, but +he neither inquired why Lafe wanted him nor offered any objection. +Instead, he glanced in apprehension toward the group of riders now ready +and waiting for the chief's orders to be off. The horses were restless +to the tang in the air. + +It was not until the two were a mile from camp and well on their way to +the county town that Baptismo broke silence. Then it was to protest +vehemently against suspicions which Johnson had not voiced. The boss +made no answer, but kept a vigilant watch over his movements. + +There was a crowd gathered in the town. They had a man in their midst +and were dragging him at the end of a rope. As Johnson and his prisoner +came down the single street, they encountered this mob. A cloud of dust +enveloped the wretch they were dragging and Lafe had to check the rush +before it cleared sufficiently for him to discover the victim's +identity. It was Bass. He was unconscious and was bleeding from wounds +inflicted by his captors' boots and ropes. A goodly portion of the crowd +was composed of the Tilsons, relatives of Sellers, and the remainder +were members of the outfit for which Jerry had worked. Johnson held up +his hand, palm outward, and called for order. + +"What the hell do you want?" they inquired. + +"I used to be sheriff of Badger," cried Lafe, "and I'm boss now of the +Anvil range. I arrested that man you've got there. This looks like a +lynching. What's the idea?" + +Gustfully they explained that the idea was to hang Mr. Bass to a tree +adjacent. Lafe heard them in seeming patience, piecing together from the +confusion of cries just how strong their passions ran. He inquired in a +civil tone as to their reasons for hanging Mordecai. + +"What for?" they echoed. "Why, damn it all, he done killed Jerry +Sellers. Stabbed him in the back. Do you hear that? Stabbed him in the +back!" + +Lafe touched his horse with his heel and advanced on them a few steps. + +"Men," said he, "Bass never killed Jerry Sellers. I done arrested him +for it, but I made a mistake. The man who knifed him--" + +The mob interrupted with hoots and a roar of abuse. Some of them pushed +past Lafe and began to drag Bass forward once more. Others demanded to +know what warrant the sheriff had for this extraordinary statement. They +still called him "sheriff." + +"Let's give him a trial," Lafe plead loudly; "let's try each of these +men in turn. This man I've got here--" + +He broke off, afraid to proceed further lest the swift rage of the mob +include Baptismo also, and neither man secure justice. Once started, and +two might swing as lightly as one. + +"Why," bawled a man close to Johnson, "Bass, he done confessed. We done +made him." + +"You've made a mistake--" said Lafe, but they swept by him. + +In the turmoil Baptismo edged off. Perceiving it, Johnson stuck a gun to +his head and ordered him to ride in front or there would be no trial nor +any chance for justice--simply a speedy arraignment before the Judgment +Seat for Baptismo. Then he urged his horse into the thickest of the mob +and, despite some rough handling, cut the rope by which the prisoner was +being dragged. + +"Men," he cried, "if you hang him, you've got to put me out of the way +first. This man never killed Jerry Sellers." + +Not one man in a hundred but would have been taken at his word. They +hesitated, but the sheriff sat his horse coolly in the midst of it all, +and the half-breed clung at his knee. It was impossible to argue against +the outcry, or to obtain anything coherent from the medley of shouts. + +In his agony of suspense Baptismo drew a pair of dice from the pocket +of his chaps and began to click them in his hand. It was characteristic +of the half-breed that he should be able to smile brilliantly upon the +crowd even when most fearful. The sheriff saw the dice. His face lighted +and he thrust forward again, shouting for quiet. + +"You say that Bass is guilty. You say he's confessed. I say that I've +got the murderer here. You want to hang Mordecai without a trial. I want +a trial--a trial for both--and that's all we'll need. Let's throw dice." + +It is probable that not more than four or five of the mob caught +Johnson's words, but they happened to be in the forefront, and when they +halted, progress was immediately arrested. + +"Throw dice?" one asked eagerly. "Thunderation, what for?" + +"You think this man killed Jerry Sellers. I know that Baptismo killed +him. I've got Baptismo here. Let the two of 'em throw dice to see which +is innocent. If Baptismo didn't kill him--why, he just couldn't throw +lowest." + +The leaders looked at one another. It was just such a suggestion as +appealed to their heated minds. They began to argue and Lafe breathed in +relief. When men start argument, action need not be feared immediately. +Gradually order was restored. Everybody waited on the man who held the +rope, who was spokesman. + +"I ain't so sure," said he, "that this'll prove anything. But we aim to +hang this feller Bass. You aim to hang that yellow-belly. If it's +agreeable to them, I reckon we cain't raise any objections. We'll have a +hanging anyhow, and Jerry'll rest easier." + +Baptismo still clicked the dice automatically. He wetted his lips and +assured them in a dry voice that this would be satisfactory to him and +eminently fair. Perhaps Baptismo was not unbiased. The dice were his, +and he knew that if held in a certain position in the palm of the hand, +they could be thrown to suit the needs of the player. + +Their minds diverted by the possibilities of this trial by luck, the +crowd fell in quickly with the suggestion. It savored of the rough +justice to which they were accustomed, and if the parties principally +concerned were willing, why should they withhold sanction to the ordeal? +Moreover, it gave an opportunity for divine intervention. + +Johnson got down from his horse and removed the rope from Mordecai's +neck. + +"Here, you! Wake up!" cried several, shaking him by the shoulders. +Somebody shoved a bottle to his lips and he groaned and speedily +revived. Then they explained to him as clearly as several tongues +talking at once could do, what the nature of the test was. + +"I reckon you'll hang me anyhow, if I don't?" he asked. + +They signified that such was their intent. + +"Then, of course, I'll throw," said he. "It ain't fair, but it's my only +chance." + +Bass was still too weak to realize fully what was transpiring. The mob +took no account of this, but surged forward to the spot originally +selected for the hanging. It was a tree, which grew back of a flat rock. +The advantage of this site was that the two could roll the dice on the +rock, and then the one who was guilty could be hanged from the tree +without further inconvenience. + +Lafe went ahead, piloting the two principals by the arms, one on each +side of him. He placed them side by side in front of the rock. The +half-breed picked up the dice. + +"One throw, or best out of three?" he inquired. + +There was a pause, while the crowd looked to Bass. + +"One will do as well as a hundred, I reckon," said he. + +Baptismo gave a grunt of satisfaction and shook the dice in his hand. +With a twist along his two first fingers he spun them on the rock. A +double six! Twelve! A long sigh came from the crowd, and then they all +began to talk. Somebody cheered. Assuredly this proved everything. A +double six was the highest that could be thrown. Baptismo could not be +beaten. True, his throw might be tied--so, too, an elephant might fly. +The odds against Bass seemed utterly hopeless. He looked at the dice +dully for a minute and then turned to Lafe. + +"I reckon I'm done for," said he, "but God knows I didn't do it." + +"If you did," Johnson said, his eyes troubled, "you fight mighty well +for a feller who'd stab in the back." + +And then, before them all, Bass fell on his knees beside the rock and +sank his face in his arms. None but Lafe knew that he was praying. The +crowd thought that he had fainted from weakness and sought to rouse him, +urging him to go on with the test. At last he rose. + +"It ain't fair," he said in a loud voice, "it isn't fair. And the dice +are loaded. But--well, I'll try. I'm innocent, and I reckon He'll see me +through, somehow." + +Saying this, Bass rattled the dice in his hand and clapped them down +with all his strength. So violent was his passion that they rolled off +the rock upon the ground. + +"The throw counts!" the crowd yelled--"the throw's got to count. He's +trying to gain time." + +Lafe bent to examine the dice. As he did so he began to shout +frantically, and he waved the crowd back. + +"Look there!" he yelled, and pointed to three pieces of ivory on the +ground. + +The force of Bass's throw had broken a dice. One of them registered a +six. The half of the other showed a six. And the broken half showed one. +The total was thirteen. He had done the impossible; he had beaten the +half-breed by a point. + +Baptismo gazed down at the fragments in stupefaction. His mouth was +open, but for a minute at least no sound came from it. Then he +whispered: "It's the judgment of God." + +He collapsed and huddled in an abject heap, clasping Lafe's knees. And +in that position he sobbed out his confession. Yes, he had killed +Sellers--killed him there by the spring. They had long been enemies, and +Sellers had insulted him in front of Florence Steel. He had followed +when Jerry went to the spring. Sellers was singing. Sellers had angered +the girl and she urged him to pick a quarrel. When he struck, Florence +was coming down the path close behind. She saw it all, for she was quite +close. He threw away the knife--he had found it--and ran to the barn. +There he saw Bass coming from the bushes beside the spring. He knew of +Mordecai's quarrel with Sellers, and when he perceived that Bass was +about to ride off, he resolved to stay at the ranch. + +"I reckon," said Lafe, as he and Bass moved along the homeward trail +that night, "I reckon you'd best leave Florence be, Mordecai. What do +you think? Seems to me she set more store by that feller swinging back +there." + +"Don't," Bass entreated. "Yes, I reckon she did, Lafe. She must have +loved him a heap." + +"Women are queer," said Lafe. + +"Say," he said suddenly again, "if you were in the bushes there, you +must have seen the killing. Why didn't you speak out?" + +His companion flushed and looked uncomfortable. Luckily it was dark. + +"No, I didn't see who stabbed him, at all. I didn't see Baptismo there. +I only saw Florence coming along the path. And I'd lent her my knife, +and--" + +Both were silent a long time. Their ponies went steadily forward, their +riders' legs occasionally touching. Finally Bass roused. + +"What beats me," he said, "is how you happened to pick on Baptismo." + +"Why," said Lafe, in a satisfied voice, "that was simple. I happened to +sing that song. You know--'Oh, bury me not'--the one poor ol' Jerry was +singing when Baptismo sneaked up behind. I was shuffling the cards and +happened to look up sudden. And when I saw his face, I knew right +away." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +RESPONSIBILITY SITS HEAVILY ON LAFE + + +"It's a wonder," said Johnson to his wife one day, "it's a wonder we +ain't never heard anything from Steve Moffatt." + +She looked up from her sewing in curiosity. "Surely you don't want to +hear from him, do you? I declare, one would think, to hear you talk, +that you were sorry." + +Lafe did not dispute this, but got down on his knees that his son might +mount and ride him. Lafe, Jr., was pleased to consider his father a +bucking bronco on these occasions and used to dig his heels gleefully +into his ribs. Time--two months after Mordecai Bass and the half-breed +shook dice against death, and they hanged Baptismo to a stout tree. + +The boss of the Anvil freed himself from his rider by pitching him over +his shoulder, and rose and dusted his knees. + +"Well, anyhow," he said, "you remember what he done wrote to me when me +and you were married. He said 'adios,' you mind. And he told me he +wouldn't bother me until after the honeymoon." + +"I remember well enough. What of it?" + +"It's a mighty long time since the honeymoon," said her husband, shaking +his head dubiously. + +Hetty laughed, but the look she turned on Lafe was not wholly devoid of +anxiety. For this was but one of a series of incidents. His behavior and +recent trend of thought worried her. Since Jerry's tragic death, he +seemed another individual. Lafe had grown subject to fits of depression +and frequently gave utterance to the gloomiest forebodings. What had he +on his mind? Nothing--not a thing in the world. Yet he continued to hint +darkly that it would be just their luck if he fell ill, or were killed, +leaving Hetty and the boy alone to starve. + +"Nonsense!" cried Hetty, after she had listened patiently to several +repetitions of this obsession. "We're doing fine. You've got this place +and six hundred dollars saved. And Mr. Horne pays you a hundred and +twenty-five a month, and Bob owes you three hundred--" + +Lafe gave a hollow laugh. "Yes," said he, "Bob owes me three hundred. +Ha-ha! That's a fine asset--what Bob owes--ain't it?" + +"So you think he's going to rob you? Say it. Say it right out. What did +you lend it to him for, then?" she exclaimed. + +"Because you done worried me into it," he retorted, but perceiving that +he had offended her, he began to weaken, and ended by apologizing. +Although he scoffed at the prospect of his brother-in-law ever repaying +the loan, it is my belief that Johnson had full confidence in Bob and +would have resented with bodily injury any imputation from an outsider. + +"If a man can't roast his friends, who can?" said he once, when I +remonstrated with him concerning a criticism of Ferrier. "My friends +knock me, I reckon. If they don't, then they can't think such a heap of +me. No, sir. Bob's behaved like a no-account. Why, man alive, I had to +let him have forty dollars more yesterday. What do you think of +that--hey?" + +Every one of his acquaintance had remarked the transformation in Johnson +and all of us were at a loss. The change was revolutionary. It had never +been my fortune to meet with an individual so reckless of the morrow as +Lafe had been before marriage. Not only had he gambled daily with his +life, but had held to it that money was to spend, and the prospect of +poverty never appeared to enter into his calculations. Indeed, he had +scorned those who showed reluctance to toss their hard-won earnings to +the winds. Himself had always been penniless or in debt, but he had gone +his way cheerily, indulging no worry over his plight. + +Then he married, and now he talked like this: "I swan, Dan, when I think +of what I married Hetty on, it sure makes me shake like a leaf. It's a +wonder we didn't starve. A man's pluckier or he don't think of these +things when he's younger--don't you reckon? I'd never dare do it over +again now." + +"Pluckier? No. Simply irresponsible--that's all. A lot of 'em hope for +a miracle--these young people," said I. + +"And damn my eyes if they don't usually get it," Lafe said. "It's most +amazing how things will turn up to help people who can't help +themselves--just when you think you're done for, too." + +"Then why are you worrying so now?" + +"Am I worrying?" he asked, looking sharply at me. + +I could see he was displeased, and consequently dropped the subject. But +Horne and others told me that Johnson was much concerned about his +health merely because he had contracted a cold. This was to them a +symptom of hopeless effeminacy. + +On a night when Lafe and I were riding under myriads of stars, and a +drink of mezcal had contributed to warm the confidential impulses +begotten by a long day together in the saddle, the boss inquired +abruptly whether I would look after Lafe, Jr., in the event of anything +happening to him. I gaped at him. + +"What on earth's going to happen to you? You're as healthy as a goat." + +"Dan, it makes me ashamed, but, consarn it, I lie awake nights often, +wondering what would become of Hetty and the kid if I was to be killed +or got hurt or fell sick. We ain't got enough saved to--" + +"Oh, pshaw!" I protested. "Forget it. This isn't like you, Lafe." + +Really anxious, I took the opportunity to mention to Hetty that her +husband was suffering from indigestion and that it behooved her to get +him fit again. + +"Do you know," said she, "I've been wondering if that wasn't what ailed +him. A man is only half a man when his stomach is out of order. He's got +to get his meals all proper or he won't amount to anything. Thank you, +Dan, I'll attend to it." + +Old man Horne put a different interpretation on Lafe's peculiar nervous +dread. Very condescendingly he explained to me that, being a bachelor, I +could not be expected to probe the mystery, but the fact was that every +married man was seized some time with this species of anxiety. + +"That is," said Horne, "if he's conscientious and worth his salt. Some +of 'em, they never do get rid of it. It isn't cowardice. He's just +afraid for his family." + +"But Johnson has no real cause for worry. Not like a lot of others. Look +at him." + +"Sure not. That's why he's worrying. He's got things too easy, the +rascal. If he had some real troubles, probably he wouldn't fret at all." + +Winter dragged along--a winter of blustering winds, of abrupt, dead +calms and terrible cold. The cold did not last, however. Some snow fell +in the hills, and under a bright sun ran down in rills to the river. +Later, the rains held off and the grass shriveled. The country turned a +pale brown. + +We never look for the first rains to wash the land until July--for some +unexplained reason everybody sets the date at July Fourth. But in early +June numberless clouds massed in tumbled glory above the mountains and +the rain drove down in sheets. Three days later the country showed green +and pure, the trees put forth new leaves and the ocatilla flared +turkey-red on the ridges. + +"The cattle are looking fine," Lafe reported. "Their hides are loose. +We've had a good calf crop. It'll run to seventy per cent, Horne. And +there ain't no worms, or likely will be." + +"Start the roundup next week," said Horne. + +Accordingly, the Anvil outfit gathered its horses, packed its chuckwagon +with food and bedding, and set out for Zacaton Bottom, there to pitch +the first camp. They would not reach the mountain pastures, where the +wild steers roamed, until late in the autumn. + +The horses were on edge from their winter's freedom. One in every three +were broncos just broken. What the Anvil buster facetiously called a +broken horse was one that had had three saddles. After those, he was +turned into the remuda--not bridle-wise, full of fight and vicious from +memory of what the buster had imposed on him. As a result, we had five +or six contests of endurance between riders and mounts each morning. One +of the boys was thrown and had his collar bone broken. + +As boss, Johnson had the privilege of topping the remuda for his +string--that is to say, he had first choice of all horses. Yet it was +generally a point of honor not to appropriate all the gentle ones; +also, not to assign all the bad ones to one particular hand; and it is +always a point of honor to retain those selected, and ride them, +whatever characteristics they may develop afterwards. + +In Lafe's mount was a big J A sorrel that had roved the fastnesses of +Paloduro in Texas. The buster had christened him Casey Jones, after the +celebrated engineer, because of the desperate quality of his courage. +Now, by reason of Lafe's recently developed nervousness concerning +himself, I could not repress my impatience for the day to arrive for +Casey Jones' saddling--the horses are worked in rotation and, being +entirely grass-fed, each can only be used about once in three days. + +In a chill dawn the roper called to Johnson: "Want Casey Jones?" + +"No-oo. Catch me Tommy," said the boss. + +Nobody but the roper, the horse wrangler and myself marked this +weakening. We did not even comment on it among ourselves, but I was much +cast down. Of course no man after he has got beyond twenty-five years, +or has otherwise arrived at some degree of sense, wants to ride a +bucking horse; but when it is put up to him, when it becomes his duty, +then the man who shirks is discredited. Yet none of us could think of +Lafe as really shirking. Perhaps he had some excellent reason. Much more +of this, though, and there would be a lessening of his authority. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +BUT THE BOSS AGAIN PROVES HIS METTLE + + +He mounted Tommy, and we rounded up some foothills, where every patch of +weed and mesquite gave up a bunch of cattle. While two of his men were +working the herd on the roundup ground, Lafe sat Tommy on the outskirts, +making one of the cordon of riders that surrounded the cattle and kept +them in. He was talking to a strayman from the Lazy L, who worked with +our wagon in order to gather the cattle of his brand which had wandered +from their range. + +Two bulls started a fight. They were Herefords of tremendous bulk, and +when they crashed together in the center of the herd, the mass split +apart. Fully a score of bulls had been wandering up and down picking +fights, so Lafe and the strayman paid no especial attention. + +However, it is the essence of folly to ignore bulls in combat if the +combat be anywhere near you. None knew this better than Lafe. The bull +that finds himself getting the worst of it will invariably break free, +swerve aside and dash at the nearest object, as a diversion. Usually his +foe goes in hot pursuit. + +The two Herefords pawed and bawled and rumbled and butted. Johnson and +the cowboy talked, lolling in the saddle. The bulls drew off from each +other a few steps, bellowed and crashed head-on. The impact was +terrific. One of them rocketed out of the press of cattle straight at +Lafe. + +It happened that Tommy--finding that no work faced him--was taking it +easy, with one hip down and his eyes half shut. The bull caught the +horse under the belly and hurled him and his rider a good ten feet +through the air. Lafe struck the ground partly under his mount, his +right leg held by Tommy's shoulders. The horse did not rise. He was +disemboweled. + +The cowboys spurred to his aid and dragged Tommy off him. The bulls had +trotted back to the herd and were now engaged in thundering challenges +to other range monarchs. Lafe stood up painfully. He put his right foot +to the ground, very carefully. A smile of intense satisfaction came over +his face. + +"Nothing broken," he said--"just shaken up. Jim-in-ee, but I'm sure +lucky." + +He turned to Tommy, wheezing on the ground and trying weakly to rise. + +"Poor li'l devil. Poor ol' Tommy," he said pityingly. After a brief +examination, he shot him between the eyes in order to spare him useless +suffering. + +The boss was very blue throughout the day, and I knew it was for the +horse. Tommy had been a pet, and every one of us felt what it had cost +Lafe. "Poor li'l devil"--that was all, but Johnson was of the kind who +would hardly have said as much audibly for a human being. + +Back of his grief I detected a great relief. It was almost a new sense +of freedom, revealed in his eyes and his altered manner towards his men. +The old quiet authority was his again. Just what he felt was shown when +he said to me that night, "I reckon if a big ol' bull can't even hurt +me, that I've got a few years to live yet awhile. Hey, Dan?" + +"You're whistling. That was a close call, though, Lafe." + +"If it had been Casey Jones now--" he began, but something in my face +stopped him. + +"Did you notice?" he asked, without embarrassment. + +"Yes. Why did you do it?" + +"I got to thinking about Hetty and the kid. And then I quit--quit +cold--laid down. Just watch me ride ol' Casey Jones to-morrow, though. +I'll sure clean that fine gentleman." + +I watched him. We all did. It was a joy to behold. The sorrel was in +high fettle and the ground was hard. So furiously did Casey Jones +pitch--squalling through his gaping mouth at every jump--that one of his +hoofs was split in two. Lafe sat him firmly, his poise yielding to every +new move of the bronco, and he shouted in delight as he plied quirt and +spur. Time and again Casey Jones leaped straight into the air and turned +back under his rider. Johnson's head would snap back, but his seat was +never shaken, and he raked the sorrel from shoulder to flank-cinch. At +last Casey Jones stopped, his legs wide apart, his head drooped and his +breath whistling. The Anvil men gazed in silence, but with deep +approval. + +"Crackee," said a cowboy to me, "the boss is sure some peeler." + +"He certainly hasn't forgotten how." + +"Me and some of the boys," he went on, "we'd been figuring as how Lafe +had sort of lost his nerve. It seemed queer, too, but he's been mighty +low-sperited. Did you notice? I reckon that was just a mistake, don't +you? It must have been." + +"A big mistake," I agreed. "He was just a bit worried. That was all. +He'll never be that way again." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +HOW A MOFFATT HENCHMAN WAS OUSTED + + +Another episode during this roundup gave Lafe a lasting reputation among +cowmen for cool judgment. + +The outfit was working the foothills country. In nearly all the draws of +this region nesters had settled, for one could grow corn and alfalfa in +abundance, and some had laid out small peach orchards. They farmed in +quarter-sections, and generally six or eight miles separated the farms. +Some of them owned a few head of cattle, which grazed on the open range +with the herds of the big companies. + +Consequently, when the Anvil wagon went on its roundup and began +gathering cows and calves from valley and hill and brakes, it was joined +at various points by nesters. They came to see that the calves belonging +to any of their cows that might be in a roundup got the proper brand; +and they received free chuck, and worked as members of the outfit. + +Late one afternoon a horseman ambled into camp and alighted leisurely +close to the wagon. He left his mount standing almost on top of the pots +whilst he secured a match from a drawer in the chuckbox. Now, it is +contrary to camp tradition to bring one's horse within a certain radius. +Fat Dave stuck his arms akimbo and surveyed the visitor with +ill-concealed rage. + +"What for you don't hitch him to the coffee pot?" he sneered. "Perhaps +you'd best put that ol' skate in my bed." + +"Pshaw!" said the other, laughing. "I clean forgot, Dave." + +He led the beast beyond the woodpile and returned to the fire. Dave was +lifting some coals with a shovel, to put under a pot. + +"Going to be with us, Ben?" he inquired, considerably mollified. + +"I was sort of figuring on it." + +A long silence, while the cook spread live coals on top of the Dutch +oven wherein the bread was baking. + +"Why, I didn't know you run any cattle, Ben." + +"A few ol' cows. They're my nephew's," said the other. + +He squatted on a pile of bedding and engaged the cook in conversation. A +close observer might have remarked that Dave was wary in his replies--at +least, wary for Dave, who was accustomed to call a spade a damned +shovel. + +"How're the boys off for beddin'?" asked the visitor. + +"Right scarce. These nights get right cold now, I can tell you." + +"Somebody'll find room for me, don't you reckon?" + +Dave considered a moment. + +"You can sleep with me, Ben," he said finally. + +When the boys rode in to supper, tired and quiet from a punishing day, +the cook seized an opportunity to speak to the boss. Lafe was adding up +figures in a tally-book on the rim of a wagon wheel. + +"Say, Lafe," began the cook, "this here nester, Ben Walsh, that just +come in--" + +"Well?" said Johnson. + +"What's he doing here? What does he want? That's what I'd like to know. +Hey?" + +"He came to get his cattle, I reckon." + +"Cattle?" Dave snorted. "Him? Why, he never had even a dogie calf. No, +sir; no, Lafe, that Walsh is a bad hombre. He's mean. Meaner'n poison. +None of the Moffatts ain't no meaner." + +"The Moffatts?" Lafe repeated, pausing with his pencil in midair. +"What's this nester got to do with Steve Moffatt or his kin?" + +"Why," said the cook, "this Ben done married Moffatt's sister. He sure +thinks he's some gunman, too, Ben does--most as good as Steve." + +The boss was very thoughtful as they ate their meal. He spoke civilly to +Walsh and discussed with him the condition of cattle and grass, and the +water supply. He even offered Dave an extra blanket on learning that the +cook had proffered the visitor a bed. + +During the work next day, as Lafe was dispersing his riders, he stopped +to ask of Walsh: "Where do you figure you're most like to find yours, +Mr. Walsh?" + +The nester mentioned a stretch of chaparral, and Johnson assigned him to +that strip. He noted that Walsh performed his tasks indolently. Once, +too, while they were working the herd, he caught a criticism of his +methods that the nester was voicing to a cowboy. Lafe did not show any +resentment, although the tone employed was raised purposely that he +might hear, but bode his time. + +A couple of days passed and the boss became aware that he was being made +a butt by the nester. Malcontents can be found in every outfit. So there +were some in the Anvil who listened to Walsh's low-voiced talk and +joined readily in the laugh. After supper on the third evening, one of +the old hands told Lafe that Walsh was "knocking" him. + +"I know," said Johnson. + +"But it hurts you with the boys," the other protested. "They don't work +so good. Why, to-day, when you put Walsh on day herd and he went to the +spring instead, a lot of 'em laughed and joked." + +"Sure," said Lafe, evenly, "I know. I'm just waiting. Thanks, all the +same, Mit." + +Unvarying civility for another day on Johnson's part; on Walsh's, a +cautious expansion of his policy of weakening discipline. The next night +somebody inaugurated a game of pitch on a saddle-blanket by lantern +light. Although the boss had not absolutely tabooed gambling, of late +he had discountenanced it among the Anvil boys on the roundup. He was +about to order the game stopped, when he perceived that Walsh was one of +the players. Upon that he walked over and asked to be allowed to take a +hand. + +The game ran with varying fortune. The players praised or cursed the +cards with gusto, according to their luck, as is the way with +cowboys--except Johnson, who won or lost with equal imperturbability. +During a pause, someone told a story. Next deal, Walsh capped it with +another. Just as he reached the point, he paused suddenly to examine his +cards. + +"And what," said Lafe, whose mind was on other things, "what did the +girl do then?" + +Walsh promptly sprang the point, a time-worn catch which under any other +circumstances Lafe would have readily foreseen. The majority of the +spectators around the blanket broke into crackling laughter. A few kept +silent, for there was a venom, a calculated malice in Walsh's tone which +did not escape the older men. The boss felt it, and for a moment his +eyes held Walsh's steadily. Both wore guns, as did every man during +roundup. Then Lafe threw back his head and laughed with such unaffected +heartiness that the nester seemed puzzled. Throughout the remainder of +the game he looked rather crestfallen. + +Dave was cooking dinner about noon. The nester lolled in camp, having +advanced a plea of sickness to avoid work that morning. When the sun was +past its height, the outfit galloped in. Behind came Johnson, his horse +moving at a sober walk. He was dragging a cow at the end of his rope. +Arrived close to the fire, he ordered Mit to heel the animal, and when +she was stretched out, borrowed a sharp knife from the cook. Then he +went to the cow's head and took hold of her tongue. + +"Land's sake, Lafe," cried Dave, "what do you aim to do now?" + +"Split her tongue," said Johnson. + +"Oh," said the cook. Everybody seemed satisfied. + +"Split her tongue?" Walsh echoed, raising himself from a tarpaulin. +"That's a new one on me. What're you going to do that for?" + +"So she can lick both sides of her calf at once," Lafe drawled, and +released the animal. + +A perfect gale of laughter swept from the Anvil outfit. + +"Damn my fat haid! Damn my ol' fat haid!" bellowed the cook. + +A fig for Walsh and his prowess as a gunfighter! Dave feared no man. He +went his way, grouchy and unreckoning, secure in the sanctity that +hedges a cook. Besides, if that failed him, he had usually a pothook +handy. Now, he threw himself flat on his back and kicked his heels in +the air. + +One must give Walsh his due. He had pluck to spare, but ridicule is the +hardest thing to face in life. Besides, what earthly use was there in +defying a whole outfit? He gave a sickly smile and returned to his +tarpaulin. + +To him came Lafe after dinner. + +"How're you feeling?" he asked. + +"Better." + +"Well," said the boss, "we're moving to-day, Walsh. You don't seem to +have found any of your stuff. It's certain you won't, where we're +heading. So I reckon it'd save you trouble if you got moving." + +Walsh eyed him expectantly. + +"All right," he said at last. "You're the boss." + +In this manner was discipline restored among the Anvil men. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +NEWS FROM BUFFALO JIM + + + Rub-a-dub-dub, + Three men in a tub, + The butcher, the baker, + The candlestick maker; + They all jumped out of a holler pertater. + Rub-a-dub-dub. + +"Do you call them your prayers?" asked Lafe sternly. "I done told you to +get to bed more'n a hour ago, son. I swan I can't figure what your ma's +thinking of. Now, drag it." + +The boy turned a confident grin on his sire and continued his march +through the house, rub-a-dub-dubbing to the best that was in him. He was +attired lightly in a chemise, and was accordingly able to give an +unhampered illustration of how the candlestick maker and the other +tradesmen emerged from the spud. Hetty had gone to prepare his bed; +returning, she made a dive for the fugitive and bore him, struggling, to +his unwelcome nest. There she was obliged to growl over him in imitation +of a big old bear, before Lafe, Jr., became reconciled. + +Johnson listened with scant patience to their further discourse inside +the bedroom. + +"That ain't the way to learn the boy his prayers," he interrupted. +"Bless _Mister_ Shortredge. Mister! That's a fine way for a li'l feller +to pray, ain't it? Call him Jim or Buf'lo, Hetty. Call him Jim or +Buf'lo. I reckon the Almighty don't know Jim as Mister." + +"I guess the Almighty ain't such a close friend of his, anyhow, seeing +as he's a friend of yours," retorted Mrs. Johnson. + +Lafe revolved this in his mind. By the time he had hit upon an apt +rejoinder, opportunity for its use had fled; but he made a mental note +thereof, resolved to steer the talk around some day to the same theme. + +Early next morning Jeff Hardin came up the trail, with a letter for +Johnson. Letters are rare arrivals in that region and a certain +formality attaches to their receipt. This one Lafe accepted with seeming +unconcern, and having looked long at the handwriting and turned it over +and over, he called his wife. To her Lafe opined that Buffalo must have +written to him. Meanwhile Jeff loitered near, flicking the reins on his +horse's back, intent on catching anything of interest that might crop +up. + +"He wouldn't never take a prize, Buf'lo wouldn't," said Lafe critically, +"but this looks a bit shaky, even for him." + +"Well, let's open it," Hetty suggested. + +It took her husband at least ten minutes to scan the brief page, +although famous for the ease with which he read and spelled; but this +was due to the fact that Shortredge despised punctuation and had broad +theories of capitals, into which the sense of the subject-matter did not +enter at all. So there existed always a confusion as to where his +sentences began and where they left off. But Johnson finished at last, +and then he turned to Hetty with a hopeless air. + +"Well, if that wouldn't knock you deader'n a rat. Here he owes me +fifty-seven dollars already, and he's been owing it for nigh on a +million years," he said, "yet he wants--" + +He broke off, perceiving that Jeff lingered. "Won't you get down and +visit, Jeff?" he asked. + +"No-oo, I wouldn't choose to, thanks, Lafe," said Jeff; "I got to drift. +Did you say he owed you fifty-seven, Lafe? Well, adios, you two. Take +care of yourself, Mrs. Johnson. Come on, boy, and I'll give you a ride +as far as the spring." + +Hardin continued his journey toward Badger, and told them there how Jim +Shortredge had applied to Lafe Johnson for a loan of two hundred +dollars, although he had been owing him close to a thousand for seven +years. + +"Well, what're you going to do about it?" said Hetty, when the courier +had departed. + +"Do about it? Forget it--that's what I'm going to do." + +"We couldn't have him here with little Lafe round," Hetty went on +reflectively. "It wouldn't be safe. No, we couldn't. Could we?" + +"Well, I should reckon not. I should rather reckon not. Where'd we put +him?" + +Lafe was highly indignant for the remainder of the forenoon. What sort +of an idiot did Buffalo take him to be, anyhow? It was all very well for +a man to use his friend's money and time as his own so long as both were +single, but when a man married, his family had first claim. If Jim could +not get that through his head without having it pounded in, Lafe was +sorry, but he would have to make it clear, notwithstanding. Send him +fifty dollars--had Hetty ever in her life heard anything to equal that? +Here was a feller who could easily earn seventy-five dollars a month--a +thick, stout man--and just because he was a trifle sick, he had to send +off to borrow and to ask if he could visit. It was weak-kneed, Lafe +called it. He had really never suspected this propensity in Shortredge. + +"Many's the time I've helped him out," he said, reverting to the subject +after dinner, "and what do I get? A man owes it to a friend before he +gets married, Hetty. Afterwards, he--" + +"He what?" + +"Well, he ain't got any friends," said her husband. + +His irritation continued throughout the afternoon and he brusquely +refused to take his son up in front when he rode away to Horne's +headquarters. It was growing dark when he returned and the cattle were +drifting up the Caņon to water. Johnson noticed each cow and calf with a +shrewd eye, and determined to spread more salt in the morning. His son +came galloping to meet him, and Lafe swung the boy to the fork of the +saddle. He was still moody, however, and his wife observed that he did +not eat with his customary appetite. Finally he pushed the plate from +him. + +"I declare that stew's no fit food for a man, Hetty. Can't we never have +nothing else?" + +"You've had stew twice in three weeks. That's what you've had," Hetty +returned, bridling. "What's got into you, anyhow? You're worse than a +big ol' bear." + +"Ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh!" her son growled, making a persistent effort to worry +his father's leg with his teeth. Lafe pried his offspring loose and set +him on his knee. The boy wrestled and thumped him, and gradually Lafe +softened under the play. + +"I mind once, me and Buf'lo went for eleven days on jerky and tobacco; +more tobacco than jerky," he said, considering his son with a smile. +"Nothing ever seemed to hurt us in them days, me and Buf'lo. Down in the +Baccanochi, it was, where we went for some cattle. And of all the sorry +steers, you never seen the like, Hetty. Honest, they couldn't throw a +shadow. But we got some beef there. I ain't never tasted beef like it +since--no, ma'am." + +"Ho, haven't you?" Hetty sniffed. + +His usual even spirits seemed to return during the after-supper smoke. +He sat on the porch and listened to the cows lowing contentedly around +the tanks. Some animal went light-footed through the underbrush of the +slope opposite, and Lafe, Jr., was morally certain it was a wildcat; +but, then, he never failed to detect bears and wolves and mountain lions +in the least stirring of a twig. The dark deepened and a coyote yelped +against the Caņon's walls. The baby announced his intention of catching +the prowler on the morrow with a pinch of salt, and by the exercise of +cunning and stealth. + +Hetty came out on the porch to fill the canteen and to warn little Lafe +that bedtime was close upon him. The boy denied it vehemently. + +"I mind once, when me and Buf'lo were sleeping at the ol' Palomino," her +husband told her; "just a night like to this it was, and a couple of +line riders come along with a deck of cards--" + +"That's all you need to say," Hetty said. "You never did understand the +game." + +Shortly afterward she took the child from his father and put him to bed, +Lafe, Jr., howling that he was wide awake and nothing under heaven would +make him go. Yet he was asleep in a twinkling. His mother tiptoed out of +the room. When she reached the porch, she gave vent to the long sigh a +tired woman will give when the day's work is done and she can relax, and +she began to rock in the wicker-chair. Her husband was walking +meditatively near a tall cottonwood. He appeared to be pacing off the +ground. + +"What're you doing?" she called. + +"Nothing. Nothing much." But when she joined him, he coughed and looked +foolish. + +"Now," said Hetty, locking both arms about one of his and leaning +against him, "tell me." + +"Why," Lafe said, "I was just sort of studying how a tent would fit here +right snug. It's a slick place for a tent." + +Hetty squeezed his arm and looked at him with eyes of perfect +understanding. + +"Do you want to see what I wrote to him?" she whispered. + +"Who? Buf'lo? You wrote to Buf'lo? When did you write to Buf'lo? Well, I +swan." + +It is best at this juncture to stare for signs of the marauding coyote, +or to gaze fixedly at the evening star blazing in line with the chimney, +because those two often chose to forget that they had been married five +years. + +This is what Hetty showed Lafe, bending over his shoulder as he read it +by the light of a lamp. + + DEAR FRIEND: + + My husband showed me your letter and I write to say we will be + glad to have you come any time and stay with us as long as you + like. + + He has talked a whole lot about you and little Lafe always + remembers you in his prayers. He don't like to say his prayers + he's like his father. We have a nice home in the cannon and it + will do you good it is so high up here. + + Yours respectfully, + MRS. JOHNSON. + + P.S. My husband is writing to you, too. + +Lafe took this letter and enclosed one of his own composition, together +with several very worn bills which he extracted from a can behind the +kitchen clock. And just after daybreak he started for Badger to the end +that the letter might be carried to a railway town by the stage driver. +While he was making some purchases of flour and groceries that Hetty had +itemized on a piece of wrapping paper as an aid to memory, one of the +loungers remarked to Johnson that he heard Buffalo Jim had had the nerve +to try to borrow some money. It puzzled him how some people would beat +their way through the world. + +"It does, does it?" Lafe answered, in a nutmeg-grater voice. "Well, it +oughtn't to. Any time ol' Buf'lo wants anything, he knows where he can +get it quick. Understand? Who done told you that? The man who told you +that was a liar. And if there's anybody here got something to get off +his mind about Buf'lo, now's the time. I'm a-listening." + +Nobody had anything to get off his mind, it would seem. Having given +ample opportunity, Johnson gathered up his parcels, tied them carefully +to various parts of the saddle, and departed for home. He did not regard +the incident in Badger of sufficient importance to communicate to his +wife. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +HE ARRIVES TO VISIT THE JOHNSONS + + +Shortredge arrived in a buckboard, driven by Jeff Hardin, toward the +close of a July day. They were visible a mile off, but Johnson did not +step down from the porch until they pulled up. Then he went slowly to +meet them. It took a long time for Buffalo to get clear of the +conveyance, he was so shaky and uncertain on his legs. + +"Hello, Lafe." + +"Hello, Buf'lo." + +They clasped hands and regarded each other uncomfortably. Then +Shortredge paid the driver and the two friends walked to the porch, +where Hetty was waiting to welcome the visitor. Such was the greeting +between them after five years. + +"Poor feller," said Johnson, when they had retired that night. "He's +looking worse'n a ghost." + +"Oh, Lafe, when I look at him I want to cry. To think we ever--" + +"He was the stoutest man I ever set eyes on, once, ol' Buf'lo was. But +he never would take no care of himself. That, and ridin' broncs, it sort +of stove him all up, Hetty. I'm sure glad I done asked him here." + +A tent was reared on the knoll under the cottonwood, and in it Jim +slept. He scorned the cot which Johnson had procured and spread his +blankets on the ground, as had been his wont in the days of his +strength. There were several spare saddlers, and when he was feeling +especially strong, Buffalo would accompany Lafe on some of his rides, +but that happened very seldom. They never spoke much when together, +which was as it had always been, but seemed quite satisfied to jog along +side by side. At long intervals one would comment on the condition of +the cattle they passed. + +Within two weeks the invalid began to gain in weight. By that time he +and Lafe, Jr., were staunch friends. For hours together he would build +dirt forts under the boy's direction, never seeming to tire of the +changes in ground plan that the child's whims demanded. And the toys he +contrived to fashion, with no other tools than a jackknife, a stick and +handkerchief! Yet his playmate imposed reservations on their +companionship which sorely puzzled Lafe, Jr. For one thing, he would +never dandle the boy on his knee, as his father did, and he laughingly +dissuaded him from the rough-and-tumble tests of strength and skill in +which the boy was accustomed to imitate a bull, or an outlaw steer, or +some equally impulsive creature. Then, too, Hetty had become peculiarly +insistent on the wording of her son's nightly supplications. Indeed, +Shortredge's name became the feature of his prayer. + +"You're looking a heap better, Buf'lo," Johnson told him. It was the +first time he had referred directly to Shortredge's health. + +"Shore. I feel a heap better too, Lafe. The cough don't bother me much +at all now. But I done bust a valve or something--run away to your ma, +Lafe, boy--I forget what the doc said now, for certain"--Jim was staring +off to the horizon--"it's liable to hit me sudden." + +"Hell, no! Doctors don't know nothing." + +"Shore not," Buffalo agreed, with a short laugh. "Don't you say nothing +to Hetty, Lafe. I'll face the music." + +Of nights they would sit on the porch--Buffalo, Hetty and Lafe--the +child scuffling with the dog at their feet, in the last spasmodic energy +that foreruns infantile sleep. And they would watch the light fade in +the Caņon. The cows came slowly to water, calling one to the other. +There were soft creepings amid the leaves. A mocking-bird sang in a +hackberry tree. It was all very peaceful. + +"You can just make out the top of The Hatter from here, Lafe. Ever +notice?" Jim asked. + +"You can see him mighty plain sometimes, Buf'lo. Do you mind how we used +to wonder what was on top of that ol' mountain, me and you? He looks so +ragged up there. That was when you were punching on the Lazy L." + +"I reckon I do. I've always sort of hankered to climb to the top of The +Hatter," Buffalo went on--"all my life I have. But I never did. You-all +know how that is. They tell me you can see for ninety miles off'n the +peak. It must be right pretty." + +"We'll go some day," said Johnson. + +Hetty caught her breath and glanced quickly at the visitor, but both men +appeared perfectly matter-of-fact. She said: "Weren't you sick last +night, Mr. Buf'lo? I thought I heard you." + +"Yes, ma'am. Nothing to speak of. Just a li'l spell. Sometimes they hit +me and then ag'in they don't." + +It was dry the next six weeks. It was also scorching hot. The country +began to look wan, then lifeless. On a night in early October a rider +came to Johnson's door with word from Horne that the range was on fire. +A blaze eight miles wide was sweeping the far shoulder of The Hatter. +The messenger delivered this information in a subdued, expressionless +voice, sitting his foaming horse in front of the porch, to Lafe inside +the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +A NIGHT RIDE AND DEATH OF BUFFALO JIM + + +"I'll go round up the pasture for you," he ended. "Will Nugget do? I kin +catch him easiest." + +As Johnson was saddling, he told Hetty through the window that perhaps +he would not be back for a week. + +"Say, Lafe"--Shortredge was at his elbow, plucking the sleeve of his +shirt--"say, I want to go along." + +"I don't reckon you'd ought, Buf'lo," Lafe answered. He spoke in a mild +tone, as though the request were a very natural one. "It's all of thirty +miles and you know what fighting fire means. There won't be nothing to +eat but canned tomatoes and mighty li'l water and--" + +"Man alive, I know that," said Shortredge, "but I want to go along." + +Johnson coiled his rope and hung it carefully from the fork of the +saddle. "No, I don't think you'd ought to go, Buf'lo." + +"Why not? Listen to me, Lafe." He began to plead, his manner nervously +insistent. "If it's going to come, it's going to come, and a lot of good +dodging will do. Give me a chance, and not--say, I don't want to crawl +off like a sick rat. Me and you never used to run away, did we? Well, +I'd kind of like--I'd kind of like to be on top of a good horse." + +"Me and you both." + +"Come on, Lafe. Go get ol' Scrapper for me. I can stand it all right. +Let's see The Hatter together, like we aimed to do. The sun'll be just +busting himself when we get there." + +"Well, you know what it means. Go get your saddle. Whatever you say, +goes," said Johnson. + +Ten horsemen met them where the path split, the one to the right +sweeping upward and around the rim of the giant mountain. They were in +ill-humor, for all had been roused from sleep and they knew what was +ahead. Therefore, not a word was exchanged as they dog-trotted in single +file. Sometimes only a pinpoint of light, when a cigarette glowed from a +long intake, showed where they moved. + +Rough and rocky was the trail. Shortredge came last, by Johnson's +directions, and the cowboy in front turned in the saddle from time to +time to ascertain that he followed in safety. He marveled much that Jim +should attempt this ride, but advice is the last thing his class will +obtrude. The night was black, but the western sky was a pale yellow, and +a broken line of red wavered intermittently above the farther slope of +The Hatter. + +Once Shortredge became conscious of something beside him and faced +toward it swiftly, but there was nothing there. He essayed a laugh. +"Pshaw! I'm shore getting foolish," he muttered. "My eyes, I expect." + +Twice after that he was moved to peer into the dark on his right hand. +Surely something rode there, hovering very near. Lafe dropped back from +his position at the head of the line, to satisfy himself about his +friend. + +"How goes it?" + +"Stronger'n the oldest man in the world," said Buffalo cheerily. + +Johnson ranged beside him for a short distance. The line wound ever +upward, in silence. Several times a horse's hoof clacked on rocks with +flare of sparks. At last: "Say, Lafe." + +"Well?" + +"I've been a-figuring that I must have given you and Hetty a right smart +of trouble. There ain't no way of knowing it from you-all, but I kind of +got the idea--" + +"You make me tired," said Johnson angrily. "What's wrong with you, +anyhow? You talk like an ol' woman." + +"It's right queer," Shortredge continued, "ain't it?" + +"What's queer?" + +"Why, me and you both starting out the same way. We used to sleep under +the same blankets, me and you did. And here you've got Hetty and li'l +Lafe--say, Lafe, there's one kid for you. He says to me only +yesterday--" + +"Look out for this drop," Johnson cautioned. + +"And I've got a bum heart and a bum lung. However, it's all in the game. +Hey, Lafe? A feller's got to grin and face the music. That's all there +is for him to do, I take it." + +"What you need," his friend remarked sagely, "is a drink. But we ain't +got any along. Now, take a brace and forget it, Buf'lo. Don't go talking +like a quitter. Just as soon as you're a mite stouter, me and you'll go +shares on that bunch of cattle we were looking over. I done had this in +my mind for a long time. I need a partner--need him bad, what with ol' +Horne's work coming on me more every day." + +Buffalo started to say something to this, but Johnson touched Nugget +with the spur and scrambled forward to the head of his men. They +continued to climb. Often they would see the shooting flames; again, +merely a dull glow revealed where the fire raged; and now they were +mounting the sheer walls of a caņon, now dipping down the faces of +cliffs. A horse rolled into a gulch and crushed his rider's leg. Johnson +told off a man to look after the injured one. Another strayed from sight +and sound, and bawled frantically for twenty minutes before he caught up +with the party. Soon it was necessary to raise the cry of the night +trail in broken country. Lafe began it. + +"Here I go." He sent it weirdly behind him in a long yell. + +"Here I go." + +And, "Here I go" went down the line to the last man. + +Shortredge kept a firm seat and allowed the reins to swing loose. Well +he knew that Scrapper was more to be trusted in this work than the +guidance he or anybody else could give. + +"Here I go," came Johnson's halloo. + +"Here I go." + +"Here--I--go," Jim echoed. + +The sting of early morning was in the air, and often he shivered. Stare +at the rider in front as he might, he could not shake off the impression +that something kept pace at his side. Vainly he sought the silhouettes +of the advance horsemen, stark against the yellow sky, when they rounded +a bend. Those were real men. He counted them--nine. + +"There's ten in this bunch, all the same," he said to Scrapper. "Don't +you see nobody besides us, boy?" + +Apparently Scrapper did not. So Shortredge followed behind, encouraging +Scrapper up the heights, leaning far back against the cantle when they +went downward to thread another defile. Some of the chasms they crossed +took his breath away. + +"Well," he quavered, with an uneasy laugh. "We're giving him a run for +his money. Hey, ol' feller? We're shore making him ride some." + +At long last they climbed to the topmost ridge. Above was the peak of +The Hatter, and the fire stood revealed a mile below. The air was cold, +and a gray shiver ran along the eastern sky. Shortredge's hand flew +suddenly to the breast of his shirt. He gasped for breath. + +"How goes it?" yelled the man ahead. + +"Fine as silk," he answered after a minute. + +They skirted a crag and the devastation of the flames was hidden from +them. No time was to be lost. With Lafe leading the way, they advanced +at a quickened gait. + +"Here I go." + +"Here I go." + +"Here--I--go," said the last man in a faint voice. + +He settled gently in the saddle and Scrapper came to a halt. The reins +trailed on the ground and the rider's hands were gripping the mane. + +Thus did Buffalo Jim face the music, atop a good horse, as he had +hoped--the music of the spheres, swelling in the blood-red dawn that +broke back of The Hatter. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +MIDDLE LIFE + + +Ten years have passed. Lafe is a trifle heavier, his figure more set. +The gray flecks in his hair are pronounced, and his manner has taken on +an assured poise that marks him in the company of his fellows. I have +seen Johnson in many companies, composed of men in all ranks of life. It +must be admitted that sometimes he looked out of place, because he was +so palpably not of their world; but never has he failed to win respect, +frequently has he dominated the assembly, although usually silent. + +If there be good stuff buried in a man, increased responsibility will +bring it out. Larger responsibilities have contributed to develop +Johnson's latent strength. He is now not only boss of the Anvil range, +but has taken over the management of all its affairs from Horne, who has +grown feeble in accumulating wealth and depends wholly on Lafe. In +addition, he has started as a cowman in his own right and pays rental on +pasture for eleven hundred cows. Fully a thousand calves wear his brand +of the Spur. + +[Illustration: Spur brand] + +A visitor to Hope Caņon is met by two tow-headed children, who greet him +with their fingers in their mouths, staring round-eyed. These are +Virginia and Eunice Johnson, daughters of the ex-sheriff, and they are +aged respectively six and three years. Both of the parents are very +dark, as you know, and Lafe's most reliable joke is to query Hetty very +solemnly on the marked blondness of their offspring. + +Hetty herself is plump and matronly. She is now in a position to afford +domestics, and she has the calm bearing and complacence of a healthy, +fruitful woman whose lot lies in pleasant places. In her face is the +fulfillment of early promise. Selfishness and evil thinking may be slow +to leave their marks, but devotion to a noble sense of duty will +invariably light a woman's face. Although her household duties are +greatly lessened, she takes such extraordinary pains in the bringing up +of her children that her every hour is fully occupied. True, she +occasionally snatches a half day to herself; but guess what the busybody +does then? She drives over to the Ferriers', and lends her sister-in-law +aid in straightening out her domestic difficulties. Bob Ferrier is +working for Lafe, and works conscientiously, but he will never be +anything but a salaried employé, for he lacks the faculty of thinking +for himself. Perhaps he was too long under routine. Consequently their +increasing family necessities provide the industrious Hetty with ample +opportunity to exercise her desire of helping. So she is happy. + +And when the Ferriers are provided for and everything is running evenly, +of course she must interest herself in the plight of less fortunate +neighbors. Many nesters have come to the country to take up farms, and +to these Hetty appears as a saving angel, however hostile their arrival +has been to her husband's interests. There are a few women in this world +who must always be doing good or they are wretched, and Lafe had +stumbled upon one of them for wife. + +I have left until last any reference to a very important individual in +the Johnson household--Lafe, Jr., the heir of the Spur. My reason for so +doing has been a reluctance to take him up until something more to his +credit than his father's comments, could be offered. The truth is that +Lafe, Jr., has been a wild boy and a sore trial. He has shown tendencies +which have greatly exercised his father. Hetty is more inclined to be +lenient, which may be responsible for some of the trouble. + +At the time this chapter opens, Lafe, Jr., was a tall, lank youth of +about fifteen years, all knobby joints and hands and feet. When he spoke +it gave one a scare, because his tones slid without warning from a high +falsetto to a most sonorous bass. He was, indeed, at that awkward age +when a well-grown boy is verging on manhood. Often Hetty worried over +his abstraction and fits of sullenness; also, pimples marred his +appearance, and a growth of down on chin and upper lip gave Lafe, Jr., +food for thought. + +"I swan that boy's getting worse every day," said Lafe to his wife one +morning. + +"What's he done now?" she asked. + +"Oh, I done caught him out behind the barn again smoking cigarettes. +Bill, he told me yesterday that he seen Lafe taking a drink out of a +bottle with the horse wrangler. I'll can that feller if he don't leave +Lafe alone." + +"Oh, goodness, let the boy be, Lafe. You told me yourself you smoked +when you were nine. All the boys out here learn to do that mighty young, +and some of them know how to drink right well, too." + +"That's all right," said Johnson stubbornly, "but I don't expect our son +to be a no-account feller. We've got the money to educate him fine. But +I'm scared to send him away until I'm sure he's worth it." + +"Well, anyhow, don't be too hard on him. Don't go jumping on the boy all +the time, Lafe. If you do you'll make a sneak out of him." + +"He's mighty nigh that now," said Lafe, and walked out of the room +before Hetty could start an argument on the point. + +He had not spoken to his wife of the worry that rankled deepest. This +was nothing less than a doubt of his son's courage. To a man who had +lived as Johnson had lived, who had calmly braved danger every month in +his life, absence of pluck is the most despicable of human traits. +Little incidents he had noted in the behavior of Lafe, Jr., filled the +boss with a dread that his son might not only be lacking in aggressive +courage, but might be the victim of positive cowardice. However, he +reflected that happenings previous to his birth may have been +responsible, which gave him a patience with the boy he might not +otherwise have had. Yet Lafe, Jr.'s, shrinking fear of the ordinary +risks of range life was wholly at variance with the reckless spirit he +had shown as a child. + +"He's even scared of his horse," said Lafe to me on a night. "Don't tell +anybody, Dan. I'd be 'shamed. But I've seen that boy's knees near knock +together before he crawled up on ol' Waspnest." + +"He's at a bad age," I said, trying to console him. "In the first place, +he has grown too fast, and in the second place, you haven't handled him +properly. Lafe is a mighty sensitive boy and you ought to be more +companionable with him. As long as you hold him off and never give him +anything but a stern order, he's going to do things which you think are +sneaky." + +The boss looked astounded. It was a new experience for him to be told +that he did not know how to manage a fellow creature, and the fact that +that fellow creature was his son sharpened the sting. He stared at me a +long time very thoughtfully. + +"Maybe you're right," he said. "I'll give it a trial, anyhow." + +Acting on this suggestion, he began to take Lafe, Jr., with him on his +rounds of the range. At first the boy was suspicious of his father's +motive in this move, and showed it by the reluctance and laziness with +which he executed his orders; but, discovering in his sire's attitude +nothing to confirm this view, he became more cheerful and took to the +work with alacrity. Johnson was much pleased. He told me that the boy +was shaping right to become a man yet. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +MOFFATT ONCE MORE + + +Towards nightfall on a day in June the boss of the Anvil rode in to +headquarters from a tour of some water-holes that required patching. His +son accompanied him, astride a mouse-colored bronco that, a month +before, neither Lafe nor myself would have suspected him capable of +handling. There was nobody near the stables, which was unusual, but Mrs. +Horne met them at the corral gate. She was very collected, but so white +that she frightened Lafe. + +"Well," she said distinctly, "it's all over now. He's dead." + +Johnson had just stepped out of the saddle. Still holding his horse by +the cheek of the bridle, he said in amazement: "Ma'am?" + +"Yes," she repeated, "he's dead." + +Then she began to sway on her feet, and before Lafe could reach her, +Mrs. Horne had fainted. With his son's help he bore her to the house. +There he found everything in confusion. Two native women were padding +about, wringing their hands and wailing for help, while Manuel knelt +beside a sofa in the dining-room and bathed Horne's face and forehead +with water. Lafe gave Mrs. Horne into the care of these females and bade +them sternly to be silent. He then turned his attention to his employer. + +In her distraction and first outbreak of grief, Mrs. Horne had been too +hasty. The cowman was not dead. He had a bullet through his neck and +another in the region of the stomach, but he was still alive and Johnson +did not give up hope. Well he knew what a tough person this same Horne +was, and he calculated that his indomitable spirit would help nature to +pull him through. To Mrs. Horne, now revived and tearfully anxious to be +of use, he said: "Pshaw, don't take on so, Miz Horne. It'll take more'n +two bullets to kill the ol' man. How did it happen?" + +In a gush of words she began to tell him, but Manuel rose from the floor +and interrupted. The Mexican was almost hysterical, but from the two of +them Lafe was able to piece together a fairly accurate picture of what +had transpired. + +Headquarters had been deserted except for the owner and Manuel, who was +working in the stables at the time, and the three women. Old man Horne +was dozing in a hammock, when a rider came to the corral and turned his +horse inside. Horne woke in time to perceive the stranger throw his +saddle on one of the Anvil horses. The cowman called out to him to know +what he meant by it, and getting no reply, descended from the veranda +and hurried to the corral. + +Manuel was cleaning out the stallion's stall when he heard loud talking +in the corral. Hardly had he laid down his fork in order to go to +ascertain the cause of the disturbance, than there came two shots. He +reached the door of the stable in time to see a man ride off at full +speed. In the corral he had found Mr. Horne lying unconscious, and he +heaved him on to his back and carried him to the house; all alone he did +it. + +In about half an hour the cowman opened his eyes. + +"Hello, Lafe," he said. + +The boss despatched his son to Badger to fetch Dr. Armstrong and himself +set to work to ease the cowman's pain. The wound in his neck gave Lafe +no concern, but that in the stomach caused Horne acute agony and Lafe +feared internal hemorrhages. + +"It was that skunk, Steve Moffatt," Horne told Lafe in a whisper. "He's +come back after all these years." + +"Don't talk," said Lafe. + +"I will talk," said the cowman. "I'm not going to die for a long while +yet." + +"What was the trouble about?" + +"I didn't know him at first, on account of he looks so much older. And +he's grown a beard. He wanted a horse and I wouldn't give him one. Then +he plugged me. Plugged me in cold blood, he did. Just as he did it he +told me that would square us for me and Floyd offering that reward way +back fifteen years ago." + +In the course of nine hours Lafe, Jr., returned with the doctor. By +that time Mrs. Horne had taken to her bed and was almost as much in need +of Armstrong's services as was her husband. He made a brief examination +and reported that the wounds were dangerous, but not necessarily fatal. +The patient's advanced age was his greatest concern. Reassured on this +point, Johnson and his son went to sleep. + +The cowman sent for his manager in early afternoon. + +"Lafe," he said, "I'm going to get all right. I've got enough nurses +here, and I want you to go get Steve Moffatt. He's always tried to give +me and you dirt, and I'm beginning to think that the Lord intended you +to round him up. Take what money you need and go fetch him." + +"I'll get him," said the boss. + +"And, say," the cowman called after him, "when you catch him, bring him +here to me. Whether he's living or dead, bring him here to me. I want to +see Steve Moffatt for what he did yesterday." + +Lafe promised and went out. He found his son near the corral, repairing +a cinch with a bit of twine. + +"Where're you going?" the boy asked. + +The boss paused in his walk and surveyed him critically for some +moments. + +"I'm going after a man I've hunted for sixteen years," he said. + +"Steve Moffatt?" + +"Steve Moffatt," his father replied. "How did you know? Him and me have +been shooting each other up since we were old enough to carry a gun." + +Lafe, Jr., turned to his task of repairing the cinch again, and said +nothing more for a few minutes. His father was inside the corral, roping +a fresh mount. + +"You might catch me ol' Beanbelly, Dad," Lafe, Jr., cried to him. + +"What for?" + +"Why, you're going to take me along, ain't you? You're going to give me +a chance at him, too, ain't you?" + +"You're damn whistlin' I am," said his father. "Come and get your +horse." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +THE DUEL IN THE MALPAIS + + +For twelve days Lafe and his son followed the trail of the outlaw. +Sometimes they lost trace of him, but Moffatt could never refrain from +trifling displays of bravado which betrayed his identity everywhere he +moved, so that Johnson was able to pick up his tracks without much loss +of time. He was never more than three days behind Moffatt. + +Evidently foreseeing that the telegraph of the entire continent would be +put in service to capture him, Moffatt did not attempt to get out of the +country by train or by any of the frequented roads of travel. He kept to +the by-trails and the wildest regions. Instead of stealing over the +Border, he headed north. Lafe heard of him one day in a mountain hamlet; +the next at the home of a nester, in a deep valley thirty miles distant. +So with his son he followed him along the Border, up into New Mexico and +across it, over the San Andres Mountains and onward towards the Capitan +range. + +At the Bar W headquarters near Carrizozo he learned that a man like the +one he sought had taken dinner there and had later ridden onward into +the Malpais. Accordingly Johnson and his son followed into these bad +lands. + +When they started, the sun was glaring ferociously from a pale blue sky +and the dust of the flats rose like fine powder under their horses' +feet. On their one side was an expanse of baked clay, loose and flaky +like a crust of pastry, that stretched away to the base of some +foothills where were areas of green, dotted with grazing cattle. Beyond +the hills a mountain gloomed, mist-capped. In the right foreground was a +grove of trees with a red house nestling in the midst. A windmill rose +beside the house, and not far off, standing naked on the parched plain, +was an adobe structure, square, flat-roofed and with a single stove-pipe +chimney. These were the Bar W headquarters. + +Ahead of the two the level country terminated abruptly at a dull red +line, and beyond that was a fit abode for lost souls--twisted, gnarled +heaps of metal and rock, a torn land where nothing of life stayed +voluntarily. + +They had set out from the Bar W on Wednesday evening. On Thursday +afternoon Johnson and Moffatt were taking pot shots at each other from +behind heaps of lava far out in the Malpais. Near the sheriff was his +son. Lafe, Jr., lay in a fissure behind a mound of slag-iron and +endeavored conscientiously to shoot off the top of Moffatt's head as it +bobbed for the fraction of a second from behind another mound a hundred +yards away. They had abandoned their horses when they entered the +Malpais, because the footing was so treacherous that they could make as +good progress by walking. Moreover, there was nothing of sustenance for +the beasts in all the forty miles of waste. Coming upon Moffatt +unexpectedly as he was examining his jaded horse's feet, the sheriff had +not been able to carry into execution his plan of hiding Lafe, Jr., in a +position where he would be safe and could yet render assistance. So now +Lafe, Jr., flattened out in his fissure in equal danger with his father, +and exulting vastly. Of course, what the pursuers should have done, +according to the best military tactics, was to separate and come upon +the outlaw from two sides, thus exposing him to a shot. About the only +objection that could be urged to this strategy was that they couldn't do +it. Moffatt could see their every movement and they dare not budge from +their shelter. Whatever the quality of his courage, nobody could deny +that Steve was terrible with a rifle. + +[Illustration: "So now Lafe, Jr., flattened out in his fissure in equal +danger with his father."] + +"How about that one, Lafe?" the outlaw yelled, as a bullet from his +25-35 skimmed along Johnson's shoulder and back. + +"Two inches too high, Steve," said Lafe, without resentment. + +Shortly after this the two pursuers ceased firing, though maintaining a +watchful eye for any movement of the fugitive, and partook ravenously of +bread and cold beef, canned tomatoes and tepid water. + +Night was creeping over the Malpais. Away to their right yawned the +crater whence this monstrous flow of lava had anciently spouted. From +its base to its rim was about two hundred feet. On every side were the +distorted, grotesque knolls of melted rocks, brick-red in color, +stretching for leagues like a slag-heap from the fires of giants. Not a +moving thing had they seen in their progress through this region. A tiny +shrub clung here and there in a fissure, where an inch or two of soil +had been gathered by the winds, and once Lafe, Jr., had narrowly escaped +falling into a devil's pincushion. About three miles to the south +towered the highest point in the Malpais, a precipitous hill of scorched +rock, crowned with a blunt shaft. Atop this shaft was a dark object. +Presently it soared into the heavens. It was an eagle. + +Johnson scanned the western sky and the glory of the setting sun in its +halo of gold and crimson and purple. Then he pointed to where the hosts +of the storm kings were gathering above the pines just below El +Capitan's peak. From the thickest of the mass a flash of lightning +licked downward. + +"The cook done told me yesterday," he said to his son, "that that ol' +mountain yonder is always raising hell. If the lightning gets going +strong, there're better places to be in than these here Malpais, son." + +"I reckon you're right," said the boy, not without an anxious glance +upward. + +They exchanged shots twice with Moffatt before the dark came. With its +coming they felt a warm splash of rain upon their faces, and in a +leaping flash that illuminated the heavens, they beheld El Capitan +swiftly despatching his cloud warriors over the country. + +"It's getting blacker'n the wash basin at headquarters," said Lafe, Jr., +with a nervous laugh. "Moffatt will give us the slip easy in the dark, +Dad." + +"He won't travel far in this storm, son." + +Nor did he attempt it. The rain burst upon them in squalls that drove in +regular procession like waves of the sea, and back of it, urging it +forward, rode a hurricane of wind, shrieking and tearing among the +mounds. From north to south the lightning flared; they could smell it. +The detonations of the thunder rocked the earth. A great jagged spear +was hurled upon the pile where the eagle had sat his vigil, and their +starting eyes had a momentary vision of the awful impact. Lafe, Jr., +crawled close to his father. He was shivering. + +"Do you reckon we'll be killed, Dad? Look at the lightning." + +To right, to left, behind them and in front, the forked flashes played +upon the metal heaps, the splitting strokes blinding them with blue and +green glares. It was a carnival of fire. Johnson stared fascinated, his +whole being numbed. A loafer wolf, his tail between his legs, whining +dolefully, slunk past them to his den. He did not see or, seeing, did +not heed, his hereditary foes. + +An especially brilliant flash, followed on the instant by a shock of +thunder, brought the sheriff half-way to his feet, so close did it feel. +In their ears sounded a wild, immeasurably plaintive scream, and he +peered over the mound. + +"That's a horse!" he shouted close to his son's ear. "They yell +something awful when they're mortal scared. Yes, I swan there's Steve's +horse laying on its side on a rock." + +Lafe, Jr., was mumbling to himself, but his words were unintelligible, +although Lafe afterward assured Hetty that he heard "Now I lay me," +quite distinctly. However that may be, his son took heart and began to +grope about in the dark behind him. + +"What's the matter, Lafe?" asked his father anxiously. "Anything wrong, +boy?" + +"I'm looking for my slicker. I brought it along." + +"What do you want your slicker for? You're soaked through now. You can't +get any wetter." + +"I'll feel sort of safer," said the boy obstinately. "Here it is. I'm +going to put it on." + +He got to his knees to don the sticky, clinging coat, and as he held it +extended loosely in his hands to discover the armholes, a fierce gust of +wind whipped it from his grasp and it flew high over their heads with a +loud flapping, straight towards Moffatt's hiding-place. A shout, a shot +and maniacal laughter came to them faintly against the tempest. + +Peeping over their barrier, in a succession of flashes that lighted up +the wastes for miles, they made out Moffatt standing on top of his +mound with his hands raised to the sky. His hat was gone and his rifle +he had thrown away. For a full minute he was blotted from their sight. +Then, in another illumination, they say him running towards them, +laughing wildly. + +"It's the angel of the Lord!" he shrilled to the contending skies. "It's +the angel of the Lord. I seen him." + +The renegade ran a dozen steps more, whirled dizzily and toppled to the +earth. Shaking off his son's imploring hands, Johnson sprang into the +dark. Three minutes later he was back, dragging Moffatt by the arms and +shoulders. + +"The lightning done hit him, I reckon," he panted. "Singed down both +sides, he is. I reckon he got hit twice. He ain't dead--not him." + +Moffatt regained consciousness in a few minutes, but the horror of it +was still upon him, and his imagination peopled the night with avenging +spirits. He cowered down between the two and endeavored to interpose the +boy's body between him and the elements. + +"You won't let the ol' man kill me, will you, son?" he whimpered. + +"Shut up," said Lafe, Jr., coldly. + +"You keep quiet, Steve," said Johnson irritably. "It's bad enough +without having you blubber like that. We've got to stay here till +daylight." + +"All right. I'll be quiet, Lafe. But you-all won't kill me, now? +Promise? Where's my gun?" + +"I've got it," said Lafe, Jr. "'I do believe this ol' storm is blowing +itself out." + +At daylight they sought their horses, Moffatt carrying his saddle over +his shoulder and staggering weakly beside the boy. He was too frightened +to remain near Lafe, and implored his son whiningly at every step to +intercede for him with his father and the Anvil men. If he only would, +he would treat him fair and teach him how to shoot. + +Their mounts had drifted with the gale and were nowhere in sight, and +there was nothing for them to do but toil the weary miles on foot. They +arrived at the Bar W bunkhouse at nightfall, spent with hunger and want +of sleep. They slept twelve hours, with Moffatt locked in the cook's own +bedroom. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +THE END + + +It was five days later that Mrs. Horne, emerging from the door on +hearing a horse neigh, espied a pair of riders coming up the lane. Her +mouth opened in amazement and she sped into the house, crying excitedly +for Manuel. Lafe, Jr., pulled up at the yard gate and said; "No, you +don't, Moffatt. You get down first and go in front." + +"Sure, I'm ready, Lafe. Better not get too reckless with that li'l gun, +boy. She's liable for to go off." + +They passed into the house and entered Horne's bedroom, after Lafe, Jr., +had whispered to the perturbed Manuel. Mrs. Horne was standing guard +beside the bed, her face white and accusing, as Moffatt was thrust +forward by young Johnson. The renegade would not look at the sick man, +but mumbled, and fidgeted from one foot to the other. Horne surveyed him +dully for a moment; then his eyes brightened and he turned his face +towards Lafe, Jr., with a smile. + +"Dad and I got him over in New Mexico," said Lafe, Jr., in answer to the +look. "We caught up with him in the Malpais. Dad, he had to stay home +this morning because mother's poorly, so he sent me with him." + +The boy did not state that Lafe had purposely permitted him to come +alone, for his greater triumph and the hardening of his nerve. In fact, +Lafe, Jr., did not know it. + +"Is he--what's wrong with him, Lafe?" + +"Lightning. He got burned awful bad. He's awful scared, too, Mr. Horne. +Here, you, stand up straight!" + +"Moffatt," said the cowman weakly, "I ought to give you up to be hanged. +You aren't worth shooting. But I reckon you're worse off alive than +dead. Turn him loose, Lafe boy. I always knew his nerve wasn't real. He +won't bother us any more." + +"I can go then, Mr. Horne, sir?" the prisoner quavered. + +"You heard what he said, didn't you?" said Lafe, Jr. "Out you go! No, +you can't have that horse. You can walk. And say--get a move on you. I'm +going to begin shooting when I've counted fifty." + +"Say, Lafe, you'll give me a fair count, won't you, boy? Don't be mean +and cut in on it, Lafe. Yes, yes, I'm a-going." + +"One, two, three, four--" + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Sheriff of Badger, by George B. 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Pattullo + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sheriff of Badger + A Tale of the Southwest Borderland + +Author: George B. Pattullo + +Release Date: November 11, 2010 [EBook #34281] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHERIFF OF BADGER *** + + + + +Produced by Roberta Staehlin, David Garcia, Mary Meehan +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>The SHERIFF OF BADGER</h1> + +<h3><i>A TALE OF THE SOUTHWEST BORDERLAND</i></h3> + +<h2>BY GEORGE PATTULLO</h2> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED</h3> + + +<h3>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> +NEW YORK AND LONDON: MCMXII</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1912, by</span><br /> +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</h3> + +<h3>Copyright, 1909, 1911, by The Curtis Publishing Company<br /> +Copyright, 1911, 1912, by Street and Smith<br /> +Copyright, 1910, by the Pearson Publishing Company<br /> +><i>Published June, 1912</i><br /> +Printed in the United States of America</h3> + +<h3>Acknowledgments are due to <i>The Saturday Evening</i> +<i>Post</i>, <i>Pearson's Magazine</i> and <i>The Popular Magazine</i> +for permission to use some of the material in this book.</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>TO<br /> +A. W. BALLANTYNE</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus1" id="illus1"></a> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>The Sheriff of Badger</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">Lafe Johnson Arrives at Lazy L Ranch</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">Certain Complications Result</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">Concerning a Baby's Wail</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">Out of a Job</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">An Incipient Love Affair</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">Discomfiture of a Gunfighter</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">Johnson is Elected Sheriff of Badger</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">A Feud and What Came of It</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">An Inquest and a Surprise</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">A Journey To Satan's Kingdom</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">A Waitress to the Rescue</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. <span class="smcap">The Sheriff Settles a Conjugal Dispute</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. <span class="smcap">And Hetty Comes to Badger to Live</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">The Sheriff Ensnared</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">How He Won a Wife</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">The Gunfighter Returns and Delays Wedding</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">Johnson Meets a Friend of Hetty's</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">A Sacrifice and Its Punishment</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. <span class="smcap">Buffalo Jim Gives Wise Counsel</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX. <span class="smcap">The Sheriff Purges Town of Badger</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI. <span class="smcap">A Fight in the Dark</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII. <span class="smcap">Capture of Moffatt, the Gunman</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII. <span class="smcap">The Wedding</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV. <span class="smcap">The Bride is Lost</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV. <span class="smcap">Johnson Becomes Boss of the Anvil</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI. <span class="smcap">Enters Trouble</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII. <span class="smcap">A Clever Woman and a Misunderstanding</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII. <span class="smcap">Reconciliation—Mrs. Vining Experiences a Change of Heart</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX. <span class="smcap">Lafe Helps a Deserter</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX. <span class="smcap">And Discovers Hetty's Brother</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI. <span class="smcap">Great Expectations in Johnson Family</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII. <span class="smcap">Birth of Lafe Johnson, Jr.</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII. <span class="smcap">Johnson Once More in Role of Sheriff</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV. <span class="smcap">He Arrests a Suspect</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV. <span class="smcap">The Death Dice</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI. <span class="smcap">Responsibility Sits Heavily on Lafe</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII. <span class="smcap">But the Boss Again Proves His Mettle</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII. <span class="smcap">How a Moffatt Henchman Was Ousted</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">CHAPTER XXXIX. <span class="smcap">News from Buffalo Jim</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XL">CHAPTER XL. <span class="smcap">He Arrives To Visit the Johnsons</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">CHAPTER XLI. <span class="smcap">A Night Ride and Death of Buffalo Jim</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">CHAPTER XLII. <span class="smcap">Middle Life</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">CHAPTER XLIII. <span class="smcap">Moffatt Once More</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">CHAPTER XLIV. <span class="smcap">The Duel in the Malpais</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">CHAPTER XLV. <span class="smcap">The End</span></a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<p><a href="#illus1">The Sheriff of Badger</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus2">"She and Johnson rode together every day"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus3">"As Lafe was coming from dinner ... a Mexican handed him a letter"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus4">"So now Lafe, Jr., flattened out in his fissure in equal danger with his +father"</a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SHERIFF OF BADGER</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>LAFE JOHNSON ARRIVES AT THE LAZY L RANCH</h3> + + +<p>It may come as a shock to many to learn that we have in cowland a +considerable number of full-blooded men who have never made it a +practice to step outside the door of a morning and shoot a +fellow-citizen before breakfast. This is true; vital statistics and +fiction to the contrary, notwithstanding. They are well-grown, +two-fisted men, also, and work very hard seven days in the week, and +whenever they go to town they get drunk. But in the main they are +law-abiding, and steal calves only for their employers.</p> + +<p>There was Lafe Johnson. This story has him for its central figure.</p> + +<p>"It's right queer about men," Lafe used to say, when in a reflective +mood. "A feller will knock in a friend what he'd be like to do himself. +And he'll act mean one day so he's sure ashamed of it the next. Yes, +sir; the best of 'em will. It all depends on how a man feels, I reckon, +and what shape his stomach's in. No man ain't always going to do the +right thing, and I've never met a feller yet who was all bad. What's +more, nobody thinks he's bad, or I expect he wouldn't be. Don't you +reckon? Why, a man'll be plucky one day and the next morning he'd cry if +a jackrabbit was to slap him in the face."</p> + +<p>Lafe started man's estate as a cowboy. What his antecedents were I don't +know and don't care, nor did anybody else in our country. We have so +many more important matters to engage us. Punching cattle happened to be +his profession. In every other respect Lafe was a normal individual—no +better than you or I, and assuredly no worse. Some thought he was worse, +and among them a Mrs. Tracey—or she pretended to—who thought that and +a few other things besides. That was why Mrs. Floyd, just before Johnson +departed the ranch, insisted that he accompany her to the Tracey home in +Rowdy Caņon.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell her to her face what I think," she said.</p> + +<p>Lafe tried to pacify her.</p> + +<p>"I ain't much of a fighter, ma'am," he said. "You'd better go alone and +have it out. Miz Tracey, she's got me scared off the map right now."</p> + +<p>"You'll come, too!" Mrs. Floyd assured him, pulling on her gauntlets.</p> + +<p>This is what Mrs. Floyd said, sitting her horse in front of the Tracey +gate, her erstwhile friend being on the veranda: "I've heard the +stories you've been spreading about me, Tracey!"</p> + +<p>"Stories? Gracious, what's got into you, Sally? I never mentioned your +name! Do you reckon I've got nothing better to talk about?"</p> + +<p>"Don't lie," Mrs. Floyd continued, her voice rising. "You know what I +mean. And I've got Mr. Johnson with me to hear it, too. You keep your +mouth shut about me—do you hear? If you don't, I'll shut it for you. +I'm right proud and glad to know Lafe Johnson—he's a friend of my +husband, too—and—and—"</p> + +<p>She had much more to impart, having rehearsed it mentally on the way +over in order to be effective, but here rage and tears choked speech. +Perhaps it was as well; finical people may even find something to +deplore in what Mrs. Floyd did say. Mrs. Tracey answered, tucking her +chin into her neck, that she was very, very glad to hear it, but, for +herself, she must confess complete inability to discover any grounds for +pride in Mr. Johnson's acquaintance. Upon which she slammed the door.</p> + +<p>"Now, I wonder if that lady meant something?" Lafe murmured gently.</p> + +<p>That was forever the way. People were never indifferent to Johnson. They +either swore by him or execrated his name, which ought to be held to his +credit. A man's virtues must be negative if he make no enemies.</p> + +<p>Here is the story of Lafe's advent in our part of the world—merely the +facts, and not the tale Mrs. Tracey spread. No man will blame him, and +let those of her sex judge Mrs. Floyd who have never erred a hair's +breadth. We will then consider the jury.</p> + +<p>The Lazy L outfit was loading a train with cattle—ones and twos, graded +stuff and some bulls—when Johnson first appeared. He arrived on a +freight, presumably. It is my belief he was heading back for Texas on +the bumpers of an eastbound that passed. It stopped for water and he +dropped off when he perceived us shipping.</p> + +<p>Forty yearlings had been manhandled and heaved into a car, and one old +bull was added which would eventually visit eastern parts in tins. +Perhaps the range monarch had some suspicion of this, for he turned +round to walk out. They yelled, and prodded at his neck and ribs with +poles, but the bull shook his head in settled determination and started +down the chute. If he gained the crowding pen, where more yearlings and +another bull waited, there would be a fight and a lot of mussing and +long delay. The boss danced up and down, swearing like a moss-trooper.</p> + +<p>"Bar the chute! Bar the chute!" he yelled from the top of the corral +fence.</p> + +<p>Ere the poles could be thrust in, a seedy individual stepped down +directly in front of the giant Hereford and began to lash him furiously +over the face with a rope.</p> + +<p>"Come out of there! You'll get killed. Come out!" cried the boss.</p> + +<p>The bull bellowed with rage, but the sting of the blows forced his head +up. Blood trickled down his nose, and there were livid wales above the +eyes. One lurch forward and this man would be crushed, but the rope cut +fiercely and without pause, and the bull began to back. The stranger did +not let up, but drove him into the car with savage recklessness.</p> + +<p>"What the Sam Hill are you, anyhow?" said the boss, straddling the +fence. "A circus or a town cowboy?"</p> + +<p>Now, a "town cowboy" is a term of reproach among us, signifying a young +man who never did range work, but wears the clothes and does trick +roping for the delectation of visitors. Ultimately he joins a Wild West +show and instructs the rising generation.</p> + +<p>"I reckon you're cleverer than me," Johnson said, "but you ain't awake +to me yet. Turn over. You're on your back."</p> + +<p>Without concerning himself further about the boss, he clambered out on +to the platform and threw the borrowed rope to Reb. We saw that he was +tall and big of bone, and his shoulders had an indolent droop. Although +he could not have been over twenty-five, his hair was plentifully +flecked with gray.</p> + +<p>Presently Buffalo Jim, who was keeping tally of the cattle going through +the chute, lost count and admitted frankly that he could not say whether +there were thirty-seven or forty in the car. He tried to appear grave in +confessing this, but was unable to repress a snigger. Everything would +have gone smoothly, he contended, had he not chanced to recall a story +Uncle Hi Millet had told him the previous night.</p> + +<p>"If that feller could count up to fifty," said Johnson, in an aside to +the buyer, "he would be back in Texas still, a-teaching school."</p> + +<p>"Hello, Lafe!" the other exclaimed. "Where did you drop from? Want a +job? Seventy a month?"</p> + +<p>"Eighty."</p> + +<p>"No, sir; seventy."</p> + +<p>"Eighty. I got a lot of unfinished business down the line unless."</p> + +<p>"Have it your own way. Eighty it is. Fly at it."</p> + +<p>Johnson replaced Buffalo Jim and sat on a board between two posts, +dangling his legs, staring at everything but the plunging steers. Yet he +never once failed to tally.</p> + +<p>The boss's wife rode up to the corrals. With her was Mrs. Tracey.</p> + +<p>"Who's them there ladies?" Lafe whispered to a cowboy who wielded a +prodpole.</p> + +<p>"That pretty one's Miz Floyd. I cain't rightly see the other. Oh, yes. +Shore. She's a widow woman—owns a flock of mines way up in them +mountains."</p> + +<p>"The pretty one's the one I meant," said Lafe.</p> + +<p>We sealed the door of the last car, and a brakeman waved to the engineer +to pull forward. The buyer grabbed Lafe by the shoulder and jabbered +instructions into his ear. Then he caught the caboose rail as it sped +by, and Johnson informed the amazed Floyd that he had been commissioned +to receive the other herds when gathered.</p> + +<p>"And he don't even know your name? Oh, he does? All the same, that's +sure rushing it. Glad to do business with you, anyhow. I want you to be +acquainted with my wife. Shake hands with Mr. Johnson, Sally."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Floyd came down the platform, striding like a man. She was wearing +a divided skirt, very useful-looking spurs on her high-heeled boots, and +a man's felt hat. All the cowboys stopped work to eye her. She was only +twenty-two and had an amazingly trim figure. With that meaningless smile +of polite welcome with which a woman greets her husband's friends, Mrs. +Floyd drew off a glove to give Johnson her hand.</p> + +<p>"Lafe Johnson! Lafe!" she squealed. And with that she was pumping the +big fellow's arm up and down, her cheeks red with excitement.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's li'l Sally!"</p> + +<p>"I take it you two know each other," said her husband mildly.</p> + +<p>"Do we? Why, we were raised together, Tom. Lafe was one of my best +beaux. Weren't you, Lafe?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't got over it yet," said Lafe.</p> + +<p>The widow put in a reminder that she was on earth by a furtive pull at +Mrs. Floyd's sleeve. Lafe said, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am," very +correctly, and shook hands. After the hand shake he looked at Mrs. +Tracey again, with a new interest. The boss shouted for his horse. He +could never be idle a minute.</p> + +<p>"Let's go home. Reb, give Johnson your horse and double up with one of +the boys. I'm sure getting hungry."</p> + +<p>Laughing and indulging in horse-play, the Lazy L men set out. Mrs. +Tracey paired off with Floyd and took especial pains to lead him well in +advance. There would have been nothing in this maneuver but for her +manner of executing it.</p> + +<p>"What does she mean by that?" said Sally hotly.</p> + +<p>"Who? What?"</p> + +<p>"The way she went off there. Didn't you see her? You'd think we—oh, I +don't know how to say it."</p> + +<p>"I reckon this lady knows her way about, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"She's awfully nice, Lafe. Really she is. When we're alone, I love her. +But sometimes, when men are around—well, you saw how she acted."</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Lafe, in his soft bass, and he grinned at her. "It ain't +what she does, but it's what she don't do. That smile she smothers, +now—"</p> + +<p>"Have you noticed that, too? Tom did, very first thing. He doesn't like +her."</p> + +<p>Johnson asked her of her marriage and how it had come about. It was five +years since he had seen her, wasn't it? Mrs. Floyd said four, and he +murmured that it seemed longer. She laughed, but was pleased, +nevertheless. As they rode, she studied him without disguise, and +remarked that the gray in his hair was an improvement. He was dressed +very poorly, and his boots were down at the heel and worn through the +soles, but she did not appear to notice their plight and he suffered no +confusion therefrom. Twice she detected him looking from her to Tom, +loping in the van.</p> + +<p>"What're you thinking about?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Nothing much. Ideas don't get much of a hold on me. There ain't nothing +to grip."</p> + +<p>"I know—I can see it in your face. It's mean of you, Lafe, just because +he's forty and—and—well, he's the truest and best—"</p> + +<p>"Hold on there. Pull up!" He was chuckling. Abruptly sober: "Sure, I'll +bet he's got a kind heart."</p> + +<p>She glared at him for an instant. Then they both exploded into laughter +and she shook her horse into a gallop.</p> + +<p>"You're just the same old Lafe. Nothing'll ever sober you," she called +over her shoulder. "Remember—I'm a married woman, Lafe Johnson."</p> + +<p>"I won't forget it if you don't, ma'am," he said amiably, upon which she +gave him a fearfully stern look and giggled.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>CERTAIN COMPLICATIONS RESULT</h3> + + +<p>Many authorities assert that a man's looks count for nothing in the +pursuit of women and the game of love. And they seem to have the rights +of the matter. Citations can be had in plenty. Take the case of the Lazy +L boss. Floyd was not unlike an amiable gorilla. Well over the two-score +mark in years, he rambled somewhat in his shape. In the first place, his +shoulders were too broad for his height, and his jaw and mouth were +entirely too wide. Moreover, his legs had the liveliest scorn one for +the other. The boss always compelled interest and respect, it is true; +but so does a bulldog. Yet he owned the Lazy L and all its herds; he had +the prettiest wife in the country, and there were those who said she +adored him; and he had a son and heir, two years old. All of which set +Lafe to marveling over the inscrutable contrivings of Providence.</p> + +<p>It was seven miles from the shipping pens to the ranch, another seven to +the Tracey home. Consequently the widow stayed to supper, though it +meant enduring Floyd's cold scrutiny for an hour of chat. The boss was +civil to her in a heavy, formal way, bestowing sidelong looks when he +was persuaded she could not see him. However, there was a full moon and +it would fall to Johnson to take her home. She was a persevering woman.</p> + +<p>Floyd presented himself to his wife on the second day and said, in his +usual blunt style: "Sally, better be decent to that fellow Johnson. Will +you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sure, Tom. What's got into your head now?"</p> + +<p>"Some of this last bunch of cattle are awful poor stuff. Where the +tarnation Reb picked up these brindles and swaybacks and old, hipped +long-horns beats me. Lafe will cut 'em all back. He'll just go through +that herd like a prairie fire. So keep him in a good humor, Sally, will +you? Is it a go?"</p> + +<p>"Tom, you're dreadful. Do you think I'll help you cheat Mr. Horne by +flirting with Lafe? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Floyd."</p> + +<p>"Who asked you to flirt? I've seen you mighty handy with them eyes of +yours on other fellows, without being asked," he said good-humoredly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a lie, Tom! I won't. Remember, I won't."</p> + +<p>But, being a good wife, she did.</p> + +<p>Autumn was rattling the dry bones of summer, and she and Johnson rode +together every day. A keen southwest wind swirled the dead grass and +leaves about their horses' feet. He would listen to her chatter by the +hour, watching the pink grow in her cheeks. Lafe was very good-humored, +indeed. With the improvement in his circumstances had come a marked +improvement in appearance. He had imported what is known as a +"hand-me-down" suit at the cost of a week's pay, and he took a +pardonable pride in it, for the reason that the tailors expressly stated +in their advertising that they catered only to gentlemen of refined +tastes. Also, he had done some trafficking with Buffalo Jim, thereby +obtaining a pair of whole boots.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus2" id="illus2"></a> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"She and Johnson rode together every day."</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Often he spent hours with the baby Tommy, fashioning him ridiculous +playthings, and tumbling on the ground for the child's delectation. And +Sally gloated over Mrs. Tracey, who scarcely saw Lafe at all. Mrs. Floyd +looked not an hour over eighteen.</p> + +<p>Twice she brought Johnson up short.</p> + +<p>"Now, Lafe, none of that. I won't listen."</p> + +<p>Let us disregard the fruits of our experience and believe that Mrs. +Floyd did not perceive what was growing in Johnson during those two +weeks of companionship, although we may be convinced that even a stupid +woman can sense it a mile off; and Mrs. Floyd was clever. But she would +not give ear to her own doubts.</p> + +<p>"That widow won't get him, anyhow," she said, standing in front of a +mirror. She could not resist giving her hips an approving pat, and she +smiled.</p> + +<p>One evening, as they sat on the veranda, Lafe put up a forefinger +languidly and touched a stray curl. She dashed his hand away.</p> + +<p>"It's just as black and silky as ever," he said.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. But you keep your hands off! Do you hear?" Then she added: +"There's no gray in it, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Just for whom this shaft was meant will ever remain a profound mystery. +Both Lafe and Mrs. Tracey had gray in their hair. That night Sally was +demonstrative with Floyd, hanging over the back of his chair with her +hands locked under his chin and her face snuggling against the top of +his head. The boss blew clouds of smoke and seemed gently amused. These +manifestations of devotion had become frequent of late, but it should +not be hastily inferred that because Lafe was a spectator they were done +for his benefit. That could not be, because he took them with such +extraordinary fortitude. If he was harassed, Johnson stifled all +expression of his condition grandly.</p> + +<p>Floyd was much away from home. Sometimes he was in the south, buying +stock cattle. Again, he went north and east to sell of his herds. Sally +told Lafe that he left her alone too much. Lafe coughed and said +something unintelligible, and lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"What did you say?" she asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"When a feller is getting old and ain't got long to live—"</p> + +<p>"You quit that kind of talk right now. I won't stand for it."</p> + +<p>It was the first time she had been really angry at any of his frequent +sallies concerning Floyd, and it put them at once on a different +footing. The safe frankness of raillery was gone.</p> + +<p>Alas, that Lafe could draw the line so sharply between business and the +courtesies of leisure hours. A trail herd arrived. They plied Johnson +with strong drink and worked in relays to get him drunk. He partook +sociably, but without noticeable impairment of his faculties, and he cut +the herd ruthlessly to a remnant. The boss grew dizzy figuring his +losses and departed from the roundup, unable to endure the spectacle +without interference, leaving instructions to be notified when the fool +was done.</p> + +<p>"I'm working for Horne," said Lafe cheerfully. "Did you think I couldn't +tell a two-year-old from a three, Floyd? Those boys tried to run a bunch +by me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tracey drove over to the Floyd headquarters twice, on matters +relating to a recipe for a cake and certain patterns, and then asked her +friend and Mr. Johnson to dinner. She invited Floyd, too, but it was +done so perfunctorily that Sally felt the stab and was furious. However, +she went. The widow was as sleek as a kitten and wore such a secretive +air that Mrs. Floyd had much ado to keep her temper during the meal. +Afterward, Mrs. Tracey excused herself for a few minutes on some pretext +and left them alone in the sitting-room. When she had to pass through on +her way upstairs, she hurried as though intruding, and said: "Oh, I beg +your pardon!"</p> + +<p>"The cat!" Mrs. Floyd cried, gritting her teeth.</p> + +<p>"There wasn't no call for her to say that?"</p> + +<p>"Of course there wasn't, booby. That doesn't make it any better. It +makes it worse."</p> + +<p>Two days later: "Now guess what?"</p> + +<p>"I done quit guessing," Johnson answered.</p> + +<p>"That Tracey woman tried to tell me this morning that my Tom was too +friendly with one of those Baptismo girls."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Lafe. "Pshaw! What does she want to go and tell them lies +for? What good does it do?"</p> + +<p>"You don't see?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon I'm dull."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you great baby!" Mrs. Floyd gurgled delightedly.</p> + +<p>This display of malice disturbed Lafe greatly. Such weapons were beyond +his knowledge and capacity, and he felt hotly uncomfortable when Sally +intimated that they might expect Mrs. Tracey to be talking of them +next—if, indeed, she had not done so already. She was for going to +Rowdy Caņon without delay to bestow a tongue-lashing on the widow.</p> + +<p>"What's the use?" the cowboy said. "Her talk can't hurt nobody. They all +know you."</p> + +<p>"Some people will believe her."</p> + +<p>"Some people will do anything. Never bother with poor trash, Sally. It +don't matter what that kind thinks. Leave her be. What can you expect +from a pig but a grunt?"</p> + +<p>That was no way to speak of a lady, but Mrs. Floyd jumped from her chair +and cried "Goody!", greatly consoled. Just before the evening meal, she +put on a pink dress for which Lafe had professed admiration, and parted +her hair in the middle. Had there been a woman within seven miles, she +would not have done this, but Lafe liked it that way. So also did her +husband, for that matter.</p> + +<p>"As if I'd get jealous of Tom!" she sniffed. "Huh! you won't get Lafe +that way, my lady."</p> + +<p>I have said that they rode together every day. Sometimes Floyd watched +the two meditatively. His instructions were being carried out—no doubt +of that—and Johnson was good-natured. But the boss was a silent man and +opposed no objection. As for Sally, if she gave it a thought at all, she +probably found justification in a dozen reasons a woman would +appreciate, which are beyond male ken.</p> + +<p>Lafe helped her down from her horse late one afternoon, though she +needed no help. And he held her for just the fraction of a second. She +stiffened with an injured air, but she did not reprove him. On another +occasion—they were on the veranda and it was growing to dusk—after +staring helplessly at her for a full quarter of an hour, while she +purposely said as little as possible and toyed with the lace of her +handkerchief, her head on one side that he might get the benefit of her +profile—suddenly he seized her in his arms and tried to kiss her. He +did, in fact, obtain the merest peck at the tip of her ear.</p> + +<p>"You darn fool!" she said, tearing loose.</p> + +<p>Then she saw his face, and went hastily indoors and huddled in a chair +in a dark corner. She sat there until called to supper, striving to fix +recent happenings in proper sequence.</p> + +<p>After putting the baby to bed, she beckoned Lafe on to the veranda. Her +manner was hurried.</p> + +<p>"Lafe, you've got to go away. You've got to go to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Why? I can't, Sally. There's three thousand more—"</p> + +<p>"You must! You must! Can't you see? You've got to go. We're—"</p> + +<p>"Sure, I see," he said. It was very dark and he came closer. "You care! +That's what it is. You used to, Sally, and you do now."</p> + +<p>"Lafe, let me go! Please—please!"</p> + +<p>She broke away and gained the door. She was panting. In the lighted +entrance, she looked back.</p> + +<p>"You've got to go to-morrow, remember," she said faintly.</p> + +<p>But he did not go on the morrow. Floyd was astir before dawn—he usually +fell asleep on a sofa immediately after his supper, thereby gaining a +few hours on everyone else—and rode away with ten men to bring up the +last herd of the sixteen thousand head he would ship.</p> + +<p>Sally was distrait and restless all day. She punished the baby for +upsetting a pitcher, and then ordered the Mexican nurse to take him and +keep him out of her sight. Johnson stayed away from the house and busied +himself at the corrals, where some newly purchased mules were being +broken to harness for his employer. He never gave an order, yet the boys +obeyed his slow-voiced suggestions with the same promptitude they gave +to the boss's crisp commands. Lafe could always get obedience without +visible exercise of authority. He knew his business and followed it +without fluster.</p> + +<p>At sunset, a cloud of dust whirled madly across country, with the rain +close behind it. Sally ate alone—Lafe had evidently stayed at the +bunkhouse—and she felt vaguely resentful. About nine she tucked the +child into his bed and went out on to the veranda. The wind was dying, +and the rain fell in a soft, steady murmur.</p> + +<p>Johnson came running along the pathway and took the steps at a jump. He +was wet, but jeered at her suggestion that he change.</p> + +<p>"Only got this one suit," he said. "If it gets to shrinking much more on +me, I'll have for to steal a blanket to-morrow, Sally."</p> + +<p>He took a chair beside her and they watched the lightning play above the +black jumble of hills to the east. Sally uttered hardly a syllable. +When she spoke at all, the words came jerkily. Lafe leaned over once to +brush some sparks of his cigarette from his coat. A delicate perfume +reached him.</p> + +<p>"The river," he said, clearing his throat, "the river'll be way up. +Bridge is like to go out."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so. Oh, dear! Tom promised he'd come home to-night, too."</p> + +<p>"Come home to-night? Why, it's thirty miles."</p> + +<p>"I know it. But he's never failed to keep his word yet," she said.</p> + +<p>"He won't come home to-night."</p> + +<p>A writhing fork of lightning leaped from east to north. There was no +thunder. They sat tensely quiet and the rain dripped sadly from the +roof.</p> + +<p>"No, he won't come home to-night," he said in a hoarse voice. "He +can't."</p> + +<p>"Sally!" he breathed, bending toward her. "Sally!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>CONCERNING A BABY'S WAIL</h3> + + +<p>He was gripping both her hands and she had not moved. Her lips were +open, but she seemed powerless to speak. A loud thump startled the pair. +A shrill wail from the bedroom and Mrs. Floyd sprang up.</p> + +<p>The baby had fallen from the bed and was now engaged in howling himself +purple in the face. Mrs. Floyd swooped down on him in a tremor, and +gathering him in her arms, went all over his sturdy body with speed and +precision, to ascertain in just how many places bones were broken.</p> + +<p>"Lafe," she cried, "he's bumped his head. Oh, just look at this lump! My +own precious darling! Lafe, get the witch-hazel! Quick! No, no! In the +bathroom, on the window sill. Oh, he's holding his breath! Baby! Baby!"</p> + +<p>She shook Tommy until he was forced to release the air in his lungs, +which he let go with a tearing yell. Johnson brought the bottle and +stood awkwardly holding it, while she applied some of the contents to a +red spot on the baby's forehead. Sally sat in a chair, rocking back and +forward, with her lips against her child's neck and her arms holding +him close. Little Tom clutched her tightly and gradually his cries and +sobs ceased. Lafe tiptoed to the door. He remained there a few minutes +to watch, leaning against the jamb. But Sally did not appear to notice +him as she crooned to the baby, who was sinking to sleep.</p> + +<p>Johnson was standing at the edge of the steps, staring into the +blackness, when she came out. He threw away his cigarette on hearing her +call his name.</p> + +<p>"Just look at that dark, Sally, will you?" he said. "It beats all."</p> + +<p>At the tone of his voice, she cried: "Oh, Lafe, Lafe! I'm so glad!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Floyd did not specify why she was glad, nor did Johnson ask her. +She gave him both hands without hesitation, and they stood smiling at +each other in comradely fashion in the half-light from the hall. When he +spoke, it was to his childhood's playmate.</p> + +<p>"Huh-huh!" she agreed. "Let's sit down and talk over old times. Do you +remember, Lafe, the grass fights we used to have? You were an awful +cheat."</p> + +<p>"That's a lie, ma'am! Leastways, it ain't true. You done put a lizard +down my back with a bunch of grass."</p> + +<p>They were in high glee when a clatter of hoofs broke in on them. It +startled Mrs. Floyd.</p> + +<p>"What's that? Who's that?"</p> + +<p>Two riders pulled up in front of the house, and Floyd stepped stiffly +out of the saddle. He gave the reins to Miguel, who disappeared toward +the corrals at a gallop. The boss was spattered with mud, and wringing +wet and dog-weary. As he came into the light, he dragged his feet, and +water ran in streams from his overalls and seeped from his boots.</p> + +<p>"Tom!" His wife ran to him.</p> + +<p>"Don't," he said. "I'm soaking."</p> + +<p>"How did you get here? Mercy! You're a sight. Don't let the rain drip on +the rug! Stand over here."</p> + +<p>"How's the bridge, Floyd?" Johnson asked.</p> + +<p>"The bridge is down," the boss answered. "We done swum the river." Then +he chuckled grimly. "Miguel, he was plumb scared, but I pulled a gun on +him and made him go ahead."</p> + +<p>He threw himself into a chair and removed his muddied spurs.</p> + +<p>"I never dreamed you'd get back to-night," said Sally.</p> + +<p>"I said I would, didn't I?"</p> + +<p>Johnson, resting his shoulders against the sitting-room mantel, suddenly +bethought himself and went to his room, whence he returned briskly with +a bottle of whisky.</p> + +<p>"This'll keep the cold out."</p> + +<p>"Why, you must be half dead, you poor, dear old Boy Blue!" Sally cried; +the name fitted the boss as happily as Fido would a rhinoceros. "Wait, +and I'll cook you something."</p> + +<p>Something in her manner or her words caused Floyd to lift his head +sharply. A slow smile twisted his features. He got up and went into the +dining-room to pour some water into his drink. Before he drained it, he +looked at his reflection in the glass above the sideboard. His eyes +showed tired but well content.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Lafe," he said brusquely. "Let's eat."</p> + +<p>"You're on," said the cheery Mr. Johnson.</p> + +<p>Sally hovered about them, constantly running to the kitchen for hot +coffee and toast. Lafe sat back—it being his custom to bring his mouth +down to his fork, instead of his fork up to his mouth—and surveyed the +scene with much approval. Mrs. Floyd was at that moment pressing her +husband to a second plate of scrambled eggs.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing like a home, after all," said the boss, with a sigh of +satisfaction. "You ought for to get married, Lafe."</p> + +<p>"Hell!—yes!" said Lafe, who was sometimes careless in his speech.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>OUT OF A JOB</h3> + + +<p>Three days later Johnson left us to go north with his last load of +cattle. Floyd and his wife were at the pens to say good-by, and waved at +him until the caboose followed the rest of the train around a curve. +Even Tommy flapped his chubby fist. And in the course of time Horne paid +him off.</p> + +<p>That was in Kansas City. Johnson spent his earnings in something under +thirty hours and made the return in a day coach, having no money for a +berth. Indeed, his last meal, which he procured at a wayside lunch +counter in New Mexico, he was compelled to charge. It was made easier +for him to do this inasmuch as he had already eaten the meal. The +landlord, after slowly thinking it over, said he would trust Lafe.</p> + +<p>Now he was back in the cow country, hopeful that Horne might find +further employment for him, for that was the only work in which Lafe was +content. And he went to Badger, his credit being good there until they +should discover he had no money. It behooved him to get a job, with +winter almost on them, yet the prospect did not distress Lafe in the +least. He loitered around the Fashion, waiting for something to turn +up.</p> + +<p>On a November morn, Buffalo Jim rode into Badger from the Lazy L, +leading a pack-horse that carried all his worldly possessions on its +back. Buffalo was lifted up in heart and scornful of roundups, having +just sold a mine. It does not concern us what sort of mine he sold, +although a gentleman from Illinois grew very nasty over this point +subsequently. Suffice that Jim had four hundred dollars.</p> + +<p>He told Lafe that he was through with the Lazy L and sick cows, and +would devote his future to prospecting. Nobody would ever order him +around again; he wouldn't stand to be roused out of bed at four in the +morning by Floyd, or any man alive. A week's work in the hills, a vein +of copper—and here he was with money in his pocket, able to glean +life's pleasures. He banged his silver down on the bar and looked all +around, like a landed proprietor. Johnson agreed that it was a tempting +career, although a man had once hunted him for a month with a sawed-off +.25-35 because of a similar transaction. Buffalo scoffed at the +suggestion of the Illinois party ever finding him, and he proceeded to +do nothing. Lafe helped him.</p> + +<p>It is to be feared that you will regard these two as a godless pair, +which I deplore. Remember that customs create standards of behavior, and +in Johnson's world they are suspicious of a man who permits himself no +indulgences. Besides, in your circle or in mine, what earthly honor is +accorded the man so palely good that he never takes a jaunt into the +pleasant by-ways?</p> + +<p>So then, Lafe Johnson and Buffalo Jim proceeded to enjoy life in Badger +in the only way they knew. There was really no adequate physical reason +for Shortredge's name of Buffalo Jim. If one scrutinized him closely, +the difference could be discerned with comparative ease. Yet Shortredge +possessed traits that made the appellation peculiarly fitting. When +storms brew, a buffalo will drift into them head on, being so +constructed by the Creator. It is yet to be learned that Jim ever +permitted trouble to overtake him with his back turned.</p> + +<p>They were lying under a pool table in the Fashion one gusty November +dawn, lost in vague conjecture as to how they had arrived there, when +Mr. Shortredge was seized of an inspiration. He told Lafe that he would +give a dance, and Lafe readily consenting to this expenditure of his +friend's money, they sallied forth to acquaint the citizens of the +impending function, and to bid them come.</p> + +<p>"I want everybody to come a-runnin'," was Jim's formal invitation. "No +style, mind; but it's best to be clean."</p> + +<p>The ball was held in Haverty's empty feed barn and the guests presented +themselves with the commendable expedition their host had urged on them. +At an early hour in the festivities, three male persons from Nogales +sought admittance, and Lafe Johnson, not taking kindly to their looks, +a slight awkwardness resulted. This was satisfactorily adjusted between +the barn and the town limits, and Lafe and his companion returned to +their hospitable duties in that peace of mind obtainable from work well +done.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of that there girl with the yallow hair?" said +Johnson, in a cautious whisper that could not be heard beyond fifty +feet.</p> + +<p>"I don't think much of her," Jim answered. "Too loose in the j'ints for +me."</p> + +<p>"I reckon she looks good enough to tie to," said Lafe.</p> + +<p>In pursuance of this opinion, he began to haunt the vicinity of Grace +Hawes. He danced two Paul Joneses with her; followed them with a +two-step and a waltz; and by that time Miss Hawes was giggling in +half-hysterical mirth over her partner's unusual sallies. She slapped +playfully at Lafe when he leaned close to her ear to whisper.</p> + +<p>"Say, you've got your nerve," she said, covering her face with her hands +in an ecstasy of laughter.</p> + +<p>"No, I ain't. Honest I ain't. I'm sure shy as a teeny li'l' rabbit with +other girls."</p> + +<p>"What makes you go to say them things then?"</p> + +<p>"You do. You make me brighten up a heap. And I'd kind of like to learn +to talk easy like the other boys."</p> + +<p>"You've got 'em backed into the cactus right now," said Grace, once more +overcome.</p> + +<p>The two were occupying one of the wooden benches ranged against the +walls. Johnson was obliged to give her up at this point to a man from +New Mexico. His visage was expressionless as he watched her depart and +then he crossed to the door to institute inquiries as to how this +interloper had contrived to get in.</p> + +<p>"Let's run him off," said Jim. "That big Hick ought to be in a +cotton-patch, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"No-oo. She'd think I was jealous. And I'm not caring; not me. She can +blister her feet for all of me, and he's a sure a-helping her. Watch him +tromp on her toes. Say, Buf'lo, that's the third time she's danced with +that there feller."</p> + +<p>"What're you getting all swelled up about, Lafe?" Haverty asked, +overhearing. "Quit your roaring. You mad just because Steve done took +your girl?"</p> + +<p>"Mad, hell!" said Johnson. "Who is this here Steve, Haverty?"</p> + +<p>"He done drifted in about a month ago. Works for the Tumbling K. You've +heard of him, Lafe? Shore you have. Goes by the name of Moffatt. He done +killed Hi Waggoner and Balaam Halsell and—"</p> + +<p>"Now I've got you. Sure. He's the gunfighter. So that's Steve Moffatt?"</p> + +<p>Lafe's eyes brightened and one would have thought that this discovery +was the only thing needed to complete his satisfaction. He grinned +genially at Moffatt when they chanced to meet at Miss Hawes's side, and +exchanged polite surmises on the outlook for more rain. Said Mr. +Johnson, knowing well to the contrary: "Running sheep?"</p> + +<p>"Cattle," said Moffatt shortly.</p> + +<p>He studied Lafe with an oblique glance, not at all sure that no insult +lurked in the query. Presently he whisked Miss Hawes away. The majority +of the gentlemen at the ball held their partners with both hands around +the shoulders, and this method afforded excellent opportunity for Grace +to gaze up into Moffatt's eyes. Her own were deep blue and singularly +enticing. Steve's were brown and very, very alert and steady, and Miss +Hawes rapidly discovered that they refused to waver and grow uncertain, +as was the habit of most masculine orbs. To Johnson, this exhibition +seemed crude, even raw. He went outside where the refreshments were +cached in order to find Buffalo.</p> + +<p>"Say, Jim, I swan that don't seem the right way to dance," he said. "It +don't look proper, hugging a girl that away."</p> + +<p>"Huh! It don't, hey? You took to it smart enough. You weren't hollering. +Why, you didn't know whether you was on the floor or on the roof, when +she had you going. It sort of made me tired, Lafe, the way you done. +Better leave her be."</p> + +<p>An uproar broke out in the dance hall, and Johnson sped away to +ascertain the cause and to quell it. Quiet descended as his foot touched +the doorstep—a swift, ominous quiet. He discovered Moffatt standing in +the corner occupied by the Mexican orchestra. One of the three players +sprawled on the floor, rubbing his head and sobbing, and in front of the +gunfighter was an abashed puncher from the Tumbling K range.</p> + +<p>"What did you hit him with that there stool for?" Moffatt asked, as Lafe +approached.</p> + +<p>"He weren't keeping good time," said the cowboy. "I done told him so +twice."</p> + +<p>"Go on and dance," Moffatt ordered. "Here, you. Here's your guitar. Take +to it. And when a gen'l'man asks you to slow up again, you slow up. +Savez?"</p> + +<p>Miss Hawes took his arm, with a soft, prideful sigh, and they moved off. +It was glorious to be the center of all eyes, and she was very proud of +him just then. He dominated the assembly with such disdainful unconcern. +She had seen the Tumbling K boy actually shrink. Realizing quickly the +need of smoothing out the situation, Lafe created a diversion. Advancing +to the center of the floor, he shouted: "The next'll be a quadrille. Get +your partners for a quadrille. Hi, everybody! Step to it."</p> + +<p>Thus harmlessly did the incident pass over. Lafe was famous at calling +off a dance and soon Grace found herself wavering in her allegiance. It +is true that Moffatt was extremely handsome, but Lafe had a way. He +might be too stooped and indolent for grace of movement, but—Johnson's +voice came to her over the heads of the whirling crowd, and she forgot +to reply to a question from her partner.</p> + +<p>"First lady to the right, the right hand gent the right hand round. +Partner by the left as you come round. Lady in the center, all hands +round," he yelled, and there was a swirl of skirts and lifting of dust +to stamping feet.</p> + +<p>"Head lady and opposite gent forward and back," he chanted again.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Give right hand half way round;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back with left, left hand round.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Promenade the corner as you come around.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When the dance ended, it was the conventional thing for a gentleman to +abandon the lady where they chanced to find themselves at the moment and +go on about his business. Taking advantage of this custom, Lafe +descended upon Miss Hawes and bore her off; nor did he once give her up +until the stars paled in the sky. Then he asserted his right to take her +home.</p> + +<p>On the way he fell silent. All his glibness of tongue deserted him +abruptly, and Grace was mightily pleased over the symptom.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Mr. Lafe?" she asked. "Why don't you say a word?"</p> + +<p>"I'm studying over something," said Johnson.</p> + +<p>After a moment he inquired, without looking at her: "You done give me +two Paul Joneses, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I did. Why? Weren't they enough?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And four waltzes and four two-steps. Ain't that the tally?"</p> + +<p>"You've got it right. But what's the matter, Mr. Lafe?"</p> + +<p>"And you done let me have the Home Sweet Home waltz, too?"</p> + +<p>"Look a-here, Mr. Lafe, what're you driving at?"</p> + +<p>Johnson pondered darkly for a full minute. "What'd you give that feller +Steve?" he said finally.</p> + +<p>"You'd like to know, wouldn't you? Say, you've got your nerve." She +tilted her chin upwards and flashed a look at him.</p> + +<p>"What did you let that feller have?" he said again.</p> + +<p>"I won't tell you: so there. Not near so much as you got, Lafe Johnson. +Now, are you satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty near. Leastways, for a while."</p> + +<p>She gave Lafe her hand at parting, and he tried to draw her to him. It +was a half-hearted impulse, wholly lacking his customary dash. Grace +hesitated, flushed warmly; then, with a tremulous laugh, pushed him +back.</p> + +<p>"You certainly don't lose no time, do you, Lafe Johnson?"</p> + +<p>"I don't aim to." His voice was shaky.</p> + +<p>All that passed at the ball was perceived by Buffalo, who became greatly +exercised the next day over Lafe's extraordinary behavior. Instead of +establishing himself at pitch in the Fashion's back room, Johnson mooned +about town, or stared absently at the dust of the street whilst he +leaned against a post and whittled a stick. It was not as though he had +no money, for Jim had staked him. The cowboy took counsel of friends. +Buffalo Jim was disposed to hold Miss Hawes lightly.</p> + +<p>"I ain't no prude," he explained. "You boys know that right well. +You-all know me. I like a girl what's got ginger. But I don't figure on +marrying a whole can of it, nor I don't calculate to see ol' Lafe get it +smeared over him that way, neither."</p> + +<p>"Well, what're you aiming to do?"</p> + +<p>"Leave it to me. I'll fix it," said Jim.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>AN INCIPIENT LOVE AFFAIR</h3> + + +<p>In the afternoon Johnson called on Miss Hawes at the Cowboys' Rest, +where she bathed dishes and did other useful tasks. She was wearing a +pink dress with the neck cut low, and looked very neat and wholesome. +Nobody but a woman would have guessed that she had expected him.</p> + +<p>The sight of her put the finishing touches to Lafe. Within half an hour, +he was lost in speculation as to whether he could command sixty dollars +a month if he went to work for the Lazy L. And perhaps he might be given +the Ajos camp, with its comfortable adobe house and rosebushes in the +yard? He pictured her there. Lafe could almost hear the wild doves +cooing in the scrub-oak caņon.</p> + +<p>Grace made him sing.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come, all you wild rovers, pay 'tention to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I tell to you my sad historee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm a man of experience, no favors to gain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love's been the ruin of many a man.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He droned it through his nose, with sharp yelps at the end of each line, +like a coyote in the full swing of his nightly paroxysm.</p> + +<p>"I don't like that song," she said decidedly. "Cut it out. It's fierce."</p> + +<p>"I reckon it ain't true," Lafe admitted lamely, and tried another, a +plaintive ditty of Little Joe, the horse wrangler.</p> + +<p>Hardly had he finished than Moffatt knocked and was admitted. Steve had +on a new, yellow silk neckerchief, and Johnson cursed his want of +foresight in not purchasing some finery. To-morrow that would be +rectified: he recalled a green one he had seen in the store window.</p> + +<p>The gunfighter let two six-shooters slip from his waist when he entered, +depositing them carefully on a chair. Local ordinances do not permit the +carrying of firearms in Badger, and Johnson was interested.</p> + +<p>"You travel well heeled?" he remarked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Moffatt, "but I don't talk about it."</p> + +<p>"Do you know, I'm always scared to pack a gun," Lafe went on pleasantly. +"You'll never see me with one, Miss Hawes."</p> + +<p>"Why not? I like them. They look so cute."</p> + +<p>"I'm always scared somebody'll twist the sights off'n it, or take the +doggone thing away and slap me."</p> + +<p>"Some fellers do get hurt trying for to pack a gun," Steve said. He +added critically: "You look stout enough."</p> + +<p>"I'm feeling pretty tol'able fair, thanks."</p> + +<p>When Lafe got home that night, Jim was sitting up for him, thumping his +heels against the edge of the bed. He was so much concerned for his +friend that he did not feel like sleep. After a tentative puff or two on +a cigarette, and some coughing, he got it out. Did Lafe know that Grace +Hawes—Johnson silenced him curtly, and they lay down, back to back. But +Buffalo was undaunted by a sleepless night. His was a staunch soul, and +early next morning he repaired to the Cowboys' Rest to interview Miss +Hawes.</p> + +<p>"You say he's been married before?" Grace cried. "Lafe Johnson is +married now, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Shore," said Jim, with a friendly smile. "That's a way ol' Lafe has. He +don't mean no harm, Miss Grace. He's just naturally playful. It's sort +of a habit he's got, getting married—sort of a hobby like."</p> + +<p>"Hobby? I'll hobby him—hobby him good. How often has he had the habit? +How many wives has he got now, Mr. Buf'lo?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not a great many. I don't rightly know, but—"</p> + +<p>"And these—these wives and fam'lies? Where are they?"</p> + +<p>"There ain't many fam'lies," Jim corrected, beginning to regret his +interference. "Not a great many fam'lies, Miss Hawes. Just a few, +scattered here and there."</p> + +<p>"Get out!" said Miss Hawes. "Get out, and don't you never show your face +round here again. Married? Huh, you can't go to fool me! You quit +trying to crowd into my affairs or it'll be the worse for you, Mr. +Buf'lo."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, ma'am. Certainly, Miss Grace," Jim said, seizing his hat. +"Excuse me, ma'am, will you, please?"</p> + +<p>He decided to say nothing of the visit to Lafe.</p> + +<p>When Johnson reached the Cowboys' Rest that evening, Moffatt was already +ensconced in the wicker rocking-chair. Lafe was momentarily cast down. A +conference had revealed that he and Buffalo had no more money. They must +go in search of work without delay.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Lafe," was Grace's greeting, "guess what! I've been asking +Steve about shooting, and he done promised to keep a can in the air for +five shots to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"That's good shooting," said Johnson, accepting a chair.</p> + +<p>"Ain't it wonderful? I do love a man who can shoot. When I marry, I want +a man who knows how to keep other men scared. I used to tell my sister +back in Abilene—she ain't like me. No, indeed. She's a society lady, my +sister is. I done said to her, 'Mary Lou, when—'"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it takes nerve to be a gunfighter," Lafe interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's grand, I think." Miss Hawes clasped her hands and rolled her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; yes, ma'am, it sure takes nerve. A gunfighter always gives +the other feller an even break. And he don't care how even it is, does +he, Moffatt?"</p> + +<p>"I don't take you," Moffatt said doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Why, there's all kinds of nerve in this world, Miss Hawes," said Lafe. +"When a man knows he's better at a thing than the next man, he's liable +to be awful nervy. Take a bronc buster, now. He knows he can clean a +horse, and he ain't scared so you could notice it. And a gunman. If the +other feller was a mite quicker, I wonder if he'd—What do you think?"</p> + +<p>Said Moffatt: "I don't know what you're driving at."</p> + +<p>"Well, look a-here. Supposing I was to put it up to a gunfighter—to Mr. +Moffatt here, say—'Let's go into that back room with just our bare +hands and lock the door and lay the key on the table.'"</p> + +<p>"What for?" Miss Hawes asked breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"The best man to open it—I wonder now what a gunman—what Mr. Moffatt +here—would say to that?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't a fool," was what Moffatt had to say to that.</p> + +<p>"Or," Lafe resumed, "what if I put it up this way to some of them +terrible fighters? What if I said, 'Let's put two guns on a table, draw +off to opposite sides of the room, let another feller count three, and +the man who gets to 'em first, lives?'"</p> + +<p>None of the three moved when Johnson had finished. The alarm clock on +the flimsy, draped mantel-shelf ticked loudly. Miss Hawes's breathing +sounded strained.</p> + +<p>"Ol' man Haverty wanted to see you down at the Fashion, Moffatt," Lafe +said at last.</p> + +<p>"You coming, too?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon so."</p> + +<p>"You're on," said Moffatt.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>DISCOMFITURE OF A GUNFIGHTER</h3> + + +<p>Grace accompanied them to the door.</p> + +<p>"Everybody'll know you're fighting about me," she whispered, twittering +with excitement. "Everybody is sure to know the row is over me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'm afraid so," said Lafe, staring at her.</p> + +<p>"Oh. All the girls will be wild."</p> + +<p>There was not an instant's hesitation in Haverty's acceptance of the +mastership of ceremonies. He took Moffatt's two guns, examined them +thoroughly and removed the cartridges. The weapons were exactly alike. +Then he reloaded them and stationed the men.</p> + +<p>"Both your hosses is ready saddled," he announced. "So one of you kin +get over the Border."</p> + +<p>"That suits me," said Steve.</p> + +<p>They were stationed in opposite corners of the rear room in the Fashion, +a table placed accurately half-way between. On the table were two +six-shooters, the butts outward. Johnson had the ball of one foot braced +against the wall.</p> + +<p>"All ready?" Haverty said crisply. "One—two—three!"</p> + +<p>Johnson gained the middle of the room at a bound, seizing his gun and +overturning the table with one movement. It crashed against Moffatt's +chest and his hands failed to grasp the weapon. Lafe jammed the .45 +close to his ribs and pulled twice.</p> + +<p>"Help, boys!" Moffatt shrieked, sinking to the floor. "Help! He's +murdering me!"</p> + +<p>He threw an arm upward, as though to ward off the death he had meted out +to others. Johnson remained over him, the smoking gun in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Get up," he said. "Get up and run."</p> + +<p>"I can't. You got me twice. I'm done for, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Haverty. "You ain't even hit. Just scorched, Moffatt. Them +was blank kattridges."</p> + +<p>From the floor, the gunfighter gazed stupidly at the two. He arose +slowly and dusted himself.</p> + +<p>Outside in the crowded bar, nobody ventured to gibe at him, for Moffatt +was always a dangerous man, and most dangerous when beaten or +humiliated. He went quickly in search of his horse.</p> + +<p>"You'd better go back to Grace," Johnson said, following to see him +safely out of town.</p> + +<p>"Not me. I'm overdue at the ranch already. She's yours. I wish you joy +of her, Lafe."</p> + +<p>He rode out of town at a purposely slow dogtrot. Some time afterward he +killed a Mexican vaquero in a dispute over a bridle, and fled south.</p> + +<p>Johnson was saddling next day, when Grace Hawes swept into the yard of +the stable and confronted him.</p> + +<p>"What's this I hear?" she shrilled. "What's the meaning of it, Lafe +Johnson? Where're you going?"</p> + +<p>"I've got to go to the ranch to-day, Grace."</p> + +<p>"You mean you're through with me, Lafe Johnson?"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't go to put it that way, Grace. Don't take on so."</p> + +<p>"I will—I will! I don't care who hears. You're a villain—that's what +you are. You promised last night—you said—"</p> + +<p>"A man had ought to be sociable with ladies," said Lafe, busy with the +cinch.</p> + +<p>"You done run off a man who was worth two of you any day, Lafe Johnson. +And then you go to leave me. You leave me here to be laughed at. You ... +here, wait. Don't go, Lafe. Lafe, I didn't mean ... please, Lafe ... oh, +please ..."</p> + +<p>Johnson and Buffalo ambled side by side along a mesa covered with +mesquite. Jim had promise of a job from Floyd and assured Johnson of +one, also. Both planned to eschew the frivolities of city life +henceforth. Buffalo asked suddenly: "What made you draw off so sudden +that way, Lafe?"</p> + +<p>Johnson grinned at him.</p> + +<p>"It's right queer, Jim," he said. "But when she saw us off to go to +fighting, some way I begun to think of my li'l' sister. You knew my +sister Kitty, back in Texas, didn't you, Buf'lo? She's got yallow +hair."</p> + +<p>"I shore did," said Jim, in some confusion.</p> + +<p>"Well, I sort of begun to wonder what I'd think of Kitty if she served a +man like that. It was all off then. If Kitty tried a game like that, +Buf'lo, I'd sure take to her right smart with a rope end."</p> + +<p>"Me and you both," Jim said heartily.</p> + +<p>They rode onward toward the Lazy L headquarters, one whistling, the +other smiling over memories.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>JOHNSON IS ELECTED SHERIFF OF BADGER</h3> + + +<p>For you or for me a certain embarrassment would attach to a return to +work at a place we had sworn to avoid forever. Nothing of the sort +appeared to trouble Buffalo Jim. A month previous he had left the Lazy +L, scornful of cow work, vowing that he would live like a gentleman all +his days. Now, penniless and unrepentant, he came back as a matter of +course.</p> + +<p>Indeed, Shortredge put his horses into the corral at headquarters as a +man might who had reached home from a long trip. And there was not a +vestige of surprise on Floyd's face when he greeted Jim. He did it +casually, and shook hands with Lafe and said that he was glad to see +him. Then he gave Buffalo certain orders for the morrow, touching the +matter of salt for the cattle, just as though Jim had never been off the +ranch. The cowboy merely said: "You stayed a week longer'n we figured +on, Buf'lo."</p> + +<p>So Buffalo Jim went to work at daybreak and Johnson loitered at +headquarters. Mrs. Floyd was unaffectedly glad to see him and was not +too inquisitive as to why he happened to be there. Indeed, she appeared +to take his arrival as quite natural, which spared Lafe much confusion. +He played with Tommy most of the time, and on the third day of his stay +he sounded Floyd on the subject of a job. The boss had expected it, and +surmising that Lafe was hard up, attempted to drive a hard bargain. A +prudent man, such was his practice. It may be, too, that the boss did +not especially relish the notion of Johnson being permanently on the +place.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Lafe, "I couldn't take that."</p> + +<p>He was never one to accept anything handed him merely because his +situation looked desperate. That policy of compromise might befit the +weak, but Johnson was made of sterner stuff. No matter in what straits +his mistakes landed him, he forever kept his own valuation at a certain +figure. And usually other men accepted his estimate.</p> + +<p>"That's the best I can do," Floyd ended. "I've got a range boss already, +and a top hand ain't worth over fifty a month, Lafe."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll be drifting."</p> + +<p>"Stick around a bit, anyhow. We might strike a trade later. Say, come up +to the house. The missus wants you to stay with us instead of down here +at the bunkhouse."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Lafe, "but your cook's been sick since that weddin'. No, +I reckon I'd best hang round with the boys down here."</p> + +<p>He remained at the Lazy L a week, half expecting that Horne would send +a message to bespeak his services again. In paying him off, the cowman +had intimated that he would shortly have other deals to be put through. +A message arrived, but not from the cattle buyer. The bearer came, he +said, from Turner, the storekeeper and justice of the peace of Badger. +After listening for a moment, Lafe led him behind the barn for further +converse.</p> + +<p>"They want me to run for Sheriff of Badger," he told Buffalo Jim that +night.</p> + +<p>"Go to it," said Jim. "It'll make the town a heap pleasanter for us. +We'll feel safer. The boys'll sure be pleased."</p> + +<p>It would appear that Johnson's bloodless defeat of Moffatt had made a +deep appeal to the citizens of Badger. They reasoned that a man who +dared make a fool of a notorious character should be able to make short +work of lesser fry. Accordingly, their message was that the law-abiding +residents of the town were desirous of securing Mr. Johnson's services; +and would he come forthwith? To this Lafe answered that he would return +to Badger in a day or two, and the messenger departed. And for two solid +days Johnson dawdled about headquarters, absolutely idle. He had an idea +that to show eagerness would be to weaken his position. This surmise +proved correct.</p> + +<p>Badger leaped at once to the conclusion that they could not get him. +Yes, he had seemed reluctant, said the messenger. Now, the average man +does not want a thing badly until he is persuaded he can obtain it only +by strenuous effort. And masses are like individuals, in this respect. +That was why, as Lafe approached the town, he met a small party of +horsemen headed for the Lazy L. It was a deputation of citizens, set out +to cajole him into accepting the office. Briefly and earnestly they +explained how things stood in Badger.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Lafe, "I'll run. But remember this—when I'm elected, +you-all look alike to me. I won't play favorites. There'll be law and +order in Badger."</p> + +<p>"Sure," the committee agreed. "That's the ticket, Lafe. Well, let's have +a li'l' touch, just for luck."</p> + +<p>Johnson's opponent in the election was simply nowhere. The tale of +Lafe's prowess grew with every telling. Tim Haverty asserted on his +hopes of heaven that Lafe could take a six-shooter and drive the nails +into the shoes of a running horse. Personally, I suspect Mr. Haverty to +have been guilty of some slight exaggeration. Still, there was ample +evidence that Johnson could handle a gun, and nobody on the Border +doubted his courage. Led by Turner, the respectable element voted for +him as a unit. The others—the hard drinkers, and the gamblers, and men +of no steady means of support—ranged with Lafe, too. They had known him +as a "good fellow," a man liberal with his money and equally liberal in +his views. Therefore they anticipated no trouble to themselves from his +election.</p> + +<p>In this manner was Lafe Johnson elected sheriff of Badger. When made +acquainted with the result, he took a long breath and grew very solemn.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he said, "I thank you for your support. And I'll sure do my +duty."</p> + +<p>The opportunity was afforded him that same night. Some of them who had +worked most ardently for Lafe were gathered in the Cowboys' Rest, and +there was considerable drinking. A dispute arose, and in the course of +it the landlord laid out one of the disputants with a chair. A panicky +person fired a gun. That brought Lafe into the Rest at a quick run.</p> + +<p>"Stop it," he shouted. "The very first man who pulls a gun goes against +me. Tommy, give me that six-shooter. Now, you get out and wait for me."</p> + +<p>He broke Tommy's gun and motioned him outside. Then Johnson examined the +injured man on the floor. He was badly hurt.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to come along with me," he told the landlord.</p> + +<p>"Go along with you? Go along—why, Lafe, I just had to hit him." The +landlord could hardly believe his ears. Had he not repeated three times +for Lafe in the election?</p> + +<p>"You can explain that to the judge. Come on, now. Get moving."</p> + +<p>The landlord gaped a moment and then announced that he hoped to be +damned if he went. If Lafe thought he could double-cross him in that +manner, he had a few things to learn. The sheriff made a step forward +and the landlord reached under the bar for his .45. Before he could +raise it, Johnson gripped his wrist and with his free hand struck him +over the head with the butt of Tommy's gun. The landlord gave a grunt +and dropped into the sheriff's arms like a sack of meal. Five minutes +later he went before the justice of the peace very quietly, along with +Tommy.</p> + +<p>"Understand me"—the new sheriff faced the crowd that followed, some of +them murmuring—"I'd arrest my best friend if he broke the law. Remember +that."</p> + +<p>"Hell, Lafe," they protested, "this is running it over us."</p> + +<p>"We're going to have order here in Badger. Come on, you two," said +Johnson.</p> + +<p>Then he went bail for his prisoners.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>A FEUD AND WHAT CAME OF IT</h3> + + +<p>They had hanged a man in the Willows. He was swinging from a lower limb +of a tree sixteen feet in diameter—the natives call it the Mother of +Cottonwoods. The sheriff of Badger and I cut him down, and because the +time was summer and the flies were bad, we buried him with all haste in +the sand, beside a chiming stream. Then, that no prowler might despoil, +we piled rocks above, and got to horse without delay.</p> + +<p>"He don't look like nothing now," said Lafe, "but it's Tom Rooker. You +remember ol' Rooker? He always bummed his drinks, Tom did."</p> + +<p>We rode through a pleasant grove, where it was eternally twilight by +day. A squirrel chattered above us and the stream whispered here in a +sandy bed. At a bend, we came upon three cows wading belly-deep in the +current and eating of watercress. Some birds cheeped in a leafy thicket +beside the trail. The Willows was a paradise. Then a black shadow +flitted in front, as we emerged into a glade where the light was +stronger, and a bleary buzzard settled leisurely on the topmost branch +of a tree. He gazed at us with calm insolence. I looked hastily away, +remembering what we had laid out.</p> + +<p>After a while, the sheriff said: "I shouldn't have left town, Dan. I +shouldn't have gone."</p> + +<p>"You had to go."</p> + +<p>"They wouldn't have got away with it, if I'd been home. Poor ol' Tom—he +was awful good-natured when he was sober."</p> + +<p>We left the Willows behind and traversed open country, heading up the +San Pedro Valley. As we went, the sheriff talked of the hanging. He +spoke in a hushed tone, as though there were ears to hear; or, it may +be, he could not get the dead man out of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"This is some of Bud Walton's work," he said.</p> + +<p>It did not appear probable to me. Walton could have shot Tom with much +less bother and unpleasantness.</p> + +<p>"Bud might not have done it himself. No, he wouldn't. But some of his +friends done it for him." Lafe slapped his thigh in passionate +determination. "I tell you, Dan, I'm a-going to put a stop to this +trouble. Fellers like them are keeping this country back. Either Bud or +Jeff have got to come to a showdown, or get out of Badger."</p> + +<p>"Go to it. That's what they put you in for."</p> + +<p>"I know," he said, with a return to gloom, "but you can't do everything +in six months. I've got to move according to law, being how I am +situated. And they've been awful careful, them two have."</p> + +<p>He fell to communing with himself, and we went steadily forward, the +ponies shuffling the dust in a dejected chop-trot. It was almost noon, +and the heat waves were lifting from the ground like the smoke of an oil +flame. We passed a dead tree, and the sheriff roused from reverie.</p> + +<p>"They done hung Dave Pearsall from there six years back," he said, with +a jerk of his head.</p> + +<p>I glanced around for the grave, it being the custom to inter close to +the scene of the taking-off.</p> + +<p>"It's over beyond. No, you can't see it, 'count of that rise. But you +get your eye on that tree. Notice? And now the Mother of Cottonwoods'll +die, too."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said I, laughing. "You don't believe that old woman's tale, do +you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, now," he said patiently, "you know better."</p> + +<p>Many cowmen had voiced the superstition, but the sheriff had not struck +me as of a credulous type.</p> + +<p>"I've knowed eight men to be strung up on eight big, sound trees," he +went on, "and I've seen eight trees that looked as if the devil had +smashed 'em. Blasted. Yes, sir; dead as a rat and deader. You wait and +see."</p> + +<p>Presently he began to speak of the feud which had been the bane of his +office during four of the six months of his tenure. When I proffered the +suggestion, in a spirit of hope, that there must have been a beautiful +fight before the Walton faction secured Rooker, he dismissed that +possibility with an impatient snort. It was like that Jeff Thomas had +been away, he said; probably south of the Border, on some meanness or +other. As for Tom, he had not mixed much in the trouble in town. Perhaps +they had picked on him because he was Jeff's closest friend.</p> + +<p>"We'll know right soon now. Gee, ain't the heat a fright? Say, Dan, if +you take my advice, you'll hit the grit out of Badger just as hard as +you can make it."</p> + +<p>I resolutely declined to hit the grit as proposed. Soon we came in sight +of the town. It showed uncertainly on the horizon like a lake of mist, +with a few wavering windmills swaying therein; it might have been an +impressionistic painting of a Dutch canal. A mile from the first house, +the sheriff pulled up and bade me remain where I was, whilst he entered +Badger. His instructions were that I should hold back for ten minutes +precisely, then proceed casually into town, leaving my horse at the +cattle company's corral, and meet him at dinner in the Fashion.</p> + +<p>"No, you can't come with me," he said. "So let that soak into your hide. +It's like some fool will start something and I don't want you on my +mind. You'd only be in the way."</p> + +<p>This was not flattering, but every man to his business. The sheriff made +preparations for his by looking carefully to his six-shooter. Then he +nodded and rode ahead into Badger. Ten minutes and ten seconds later, I +followed.</p> + +<p>Badger suggests in its exterior a woman of the street, made up carefully +as to the face and run-down at the heel. To left and to right as you +enter from the west, are the Fashion and the Cowboys' Rest, both of +frame, and pretentious structures for that region. Then there is the +Wells-Fargo express office, with a tin roof which catches all the heat +of the ages and sends it sizzling over Badger. There are a general store +and a butcher shop; two Eating Houses, one at the Fashion, the other +conducted by a Chinaman; and a broken line of one-story, two-roomed +dwellings of rough boards. Beyond that again, a few adobe huts straggle +for a full half-mile. They are the abodes of natives. The cattle +company's corral is at the extreme edge of town, and there is a stable +attached. From there one can see the habitation of Dutch Annie and her +handmaidens. Usually the tinkle of a piano greets the wayfarer, and +sometimes bursts of laughter which have no tinkle in them, nor any +musical quality whatever.</p> + +<p>The sheriff's horse slouched in front of the Fashion as I proceeded down +the street. Not a human being moved in sight. The express agent waved a +friendly hand at me from the interior of his darkened office, and +bestowed a sardonic grin. Then he made a fanciful gesture, as of drawing +a loop around his neck. Next, he was fighting violently for breath, and +he was still engaged in this agreeable pantomime when I passed beyond +his ken. A mongrel collie, stretched in the hot dust, retreated +sluggishly to give me right of way, and, sitting on his rump, began to +scratch for fleas.</p> + +<p>"Say, Dan, hell's a-poppin'," said Tim Haverty cheerfully.</p> + +<p>Mr. Haverty takes care of the company's corral and counts that day lost +when no fracas promises. He told me all about it now, with a most unholy +glee, although he is an old, old man, who ought to be giving thought to +heavenly things.</p> + +<p>His tale ran thus—the town of Badger was divided against itself. Jeff +Thomas had come up from the south, weary of Mexican chuck and sullen +from failure. He had said nothing when informed of Tom Rooker's demise +and the manner thereof, but, amply refreshed, had started a hunt for +Walton in order to fasten a row on him. It happened that Bud was away in +the mountains when his enemy made the round of his usual haunts, and +Jeff's slowly enunciated insults to Bud's adherents had not been taken +up. So, fearing an outbreak that would stain Badger's fair name, the +express agent and the general-store man, the butcher, and five other +reputable citizens had proposed a compromise, in order to preserve +peace—to wit, a division of the city of Badger. All north of the street +was to be Thomas' hunting ground; the section to the south was free to +Bud to wander in at his pleasure. Both men had been prevailed upon to +accept this arbitration—Thomas, with a show of reluctance, but real +willingness; the other, grudgingly, after persuasion.</p> + +<p>"If you ast me," said Old Man Haverty judicially, "if you ast me, Dan, +I'd say Bud has got it on Thomas in some ways. Yes, sir; Jeff, he's +scared of that feller, except when he's good and mad."</p> + +<p>Such apportionment of a town has not been uncommon in the southwest in +times past. I know of two communities similarly divided, at present +writing. The armistice makes for temporary peace, but has a decided +tendency to be irksome to citizens who would be nonpartisan, and it +usually ends by a casual trespass, or one of intent, prompted by bravado +or rye. After which the deceased gentleman's record is thoroughly +threshed out and it is agreed on all sides that he was a pretty good +fellow, "but—"</p> + +<p>The sheriff and I sat later at a table in the Fashion, toying with a +pile of dominoes. And we discussed these things. It is etiquette for a +visitor, on entering the city, to hand over his gun to the bartender of +the first place of call. This signifies that his designs are peaceful, +and perhaps honest, and it also keeps him out of a heap of mischief. +Besides, if he does not do that, the sheriff is apt to seek him out and +take the weapon, anyway. Therefore, the gentleman who was swabbing the +bar with a damp towel had possession of my .45 Colt.</p> + +<p>Night fell. Daniel Boone—fat and fifty, who claimed descent from the +great pioneer—was at a table in a corner by himself, practicing +sleight-of-hand with a pack of cards, faro being his profession. If luck +favored Daniel, some plump lamb would be delivered to his fleecing +before another dawn broke.</p> + +<p>Jeff Thomas came in, walked to the bar and ordered a drink. The Fashion +being on his domain, this occasioned no surprise. Then he espied the +sheriff and clanked across to our table.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Johnson. Say, Walton's been making threats against my life," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Huh-huh?" said the sheriff carelessly. "Seems to me, Jeff, him and you +both've been doing a pile of talking."</p> + +<p>"But he done told some fellers he'd get me inside forty-eight hours."</p> + +<p>"I reckon you'd better keep out of his way, then, Jeff."</p> + +<p>"But look here, Johnson—oh, pshaw, let's talk sense. He's made threats, +I tell you. I done got a permit from the justice of the peace to pack a +gun. Turner, he give it to me for my own protection."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well? WELL? What're you going to do about it? That's what I want to +know. You're sheriff, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>My friend lighted a cigarette from the stub of another. Afterwards he +studied the nails of his fingers with elaborate interest. A protracted +pause, and he addressed a casual remark to me as though Thomas were not +present.</p> + +<p>"Cut that, Johnson. I'm a-talking to you. What're you going to do about +it?"</p> + +<p>On this, the sheriff whirled sharply in his chair. He clipped his words, +so that each seemed to snap.</p> + +<p>"I'll show you what I'll do. You two yellow pups start something, and +I'll show you what I'll do."</p> + +<p>Daniel Boone folded his cards and stole softly out of the room. I looked +furtively for a sheltering nook. Only the shiny top of the bartender's +bald head was now visible above a beer keg. But either Thomas did not +want a row, or he could not afford one.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said finally, with an uncertain laugh, "that's different +again, ain't it? There's no use getting all swelled up about this thing, +Lafe. Let's have a snort."</p> + +<p>When the ceremony had been fitly observed, Thomas seated himself at the +third table in the saloon, in no very good humor, and removed his hat. +Shortly Daniel Boone returned, padding in like a wary cat, and resumed +his interrupted studies of faro and its uses. We settled once more to +our talk and piled the dominoes in unreckoned combinations.</p> + +<p>The main door opens directly from the saloon on to the street. At the +far end of the bar is another door, which leads into a dining-room that +is run as an annex to the Fashion. Jeff occupied the table nearest the +bar, sitting sideways to it so as to face the entrance. Back of him was +a doorless exit, which gave on to a dark passage. This led somewhere +into the outer back-regions and was in frequent demand when a patron +found himself overcome by the fumes of rejoicing and desired air, +without publicity.</p> + +<p>In the corner remote from the street Mr. Boone was established, his legs +embracing the legs of a chair, and he placidly dealt cards to an +imaginary player. The sheriff and I were in the left foreground, close +enough to the window to see through it, had a curtain not been +discreetly drawn to the height of a grown man's head.</p> + +<p>Tilly entered from the dining-room, patting her hair with both hands, +and tarried for an instant at the bar, talking to the man behind it. She +waited on table in the Fashion annex, and was not without charm, both of +person and mind. Indeed, her repartee would set a room to laughing, +being forceful as a clout on the head; which may have been why she was +sought after by sundry residents of those parts for wife. Whence she +came or why, nobody knew. Badger held her for an honest girl, in spite +of what Tilly's unchampioned contact with the world had done to rub off +the first blush. Leaving the bartender choking with delight, Tilly +sauntered over to Jeff's table, where she pretended to examine the +snake-skin band of his hat. We saw her speak to him, but could not catch +the words. He glanced up alertly and gave an emphatic nod.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," murmured the sheriff, and smiled. When she had gone back +to the dining-room—pausing to exchange a last cheerful sally with her +friend of the bottles—the sheriff said: "Dan, there's a mighty fine +girl. Or I reckon I ought to say 'woman.' If she'd only got a different +start—"</p> + +<p>"What about it?"</p> + +<p>"You can see for yourself. She's getting tougher in her talk every day. +If Tilly don't hitch up soon—why, look at the way these fellers are +running after her—"</p> + +<p>"But," I said, for I had faith in Tilly, "they're all crazy about her. +Don't you fret. That girl's the gamest girl I ever saw, Lafe. She can +take care of herself. Sure they run after her. They all want to marry +her."</p> + +<p>"Some of 'em do—yes—but—" he broke off and considered for a moment. +"Did I ever tell you how Bud Walton run it over that big Slim Terry? He +done run him out of town. Slim was awful stuck on Tilly, too."</p> + +<p>"What did Tilly do?"</p> + +<p>"What could she do? She wouldn't believe it first when Bud told her. +Then she swore most dreadful. She slapped Bud's face, too—a little +later, this was."</p> + +<p>A boy shoved his head inside the saloon and peered all about. It was +Turner's youngest son, an urchin of about twelve years.</p> + +<p>"Say, Mr. Johnson," he piped, "Sam wants you over to the express office +right away. He says he cain't leave, so for you to come."</p> + +<p>"All right, Tommy, boy. You run home quick and draw some water for your +ma. Drag it, now." The head withdrew. "This ain't no place for a boy to +be round. Sam ought to have more sense. Wait here, Dan. I'll be back in +a shake."</p> + +<p>The sheriff rose and stretched himself, with a yawn. Then he went out +and crossed the street.</p> + +<p>Daniel Boone was blowing through his loose, thick lips, as he sorted the +cards. The bartender read a much-thumbed letter, and I builded a fort of +my pile of dominoes. We heard a firm, swift chink of spur rowels, and +Bud Walton strode into the Fashion.</p> + +<p>"So," he said. "Now, I've got you."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>AN INQUEST AND A SURPRISE</h3> + + +<p>I was looking toward Thomas at the moment. His face blanched, but his +hand sped to his breast, where a gun was secreted in a holster sewed to +the inside of his shirt bosom. Before he could draw, Walton pulled on +him once. This much I saw and then dived under the table. There came +another shot. Bud stood a second or two, with a sort of wondering, +puzzled look in his eyes. He swayed and sank gently to the floor, almost +within touch of his enemy.</p> + +<p>Jeff lurched to his feet and leaned over the fallen man. He fired twice +in quick succession, but his hand shook so that the bullets tore +splinters in the boarding at either side of Walton. Then he desisted and +stood waiting, the six-shooter hanging limply from his fingers.</p> + +<p>"There," he said, as the sheriff ran in. "You see, I've done it. I've +killed the bastard."</p> + +<p>The sheriff knelt beside Bud and turned him over. Walton was shot +through the forehead and must have been dead before he hit the floor.</p> + +<p>"Hem," said the sheriff. He got up and requested the surrender of +Jeff's gun, which was given up without question. Johnson inspected it +with care.</p> + +<p>"You fired three, hey, Jeff?"</p> + +<p>"Three," answered the other, his gaze fixed on the body.</p> + +<p>The sheriff was scrutinizing the six-shooter and its empty chambers. He +scratched his head. Thomas turned to the bar. His nostrils were +straining and there was an unnatural distension of the eye-balls.</p> + +<p>"Gimme a drink," he said.</p> + +<p>Daniel Boone emerged from the corner where he had thrown himself flat, +and the Fashion filled with men. They grouped in a semi-circle about the +corpse and regarded it soberly.</p> + +<p>"You're under arrest, Jeff," said the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, I'll have to ask you-all to leave. Clear the bar, gentlemen, +please. The inquest'll be to-morrow morning over in Bob Turner's place. +Step lively, gentlemen. I've got a pile of things to do."</p> + +<p>I was shoved from the saloon with the others and went only too +willingly. Shortly afterwards three men bore the remains of Walton out +of the Fashion and laid them in an empty room above Turner's store. The +proprietor was justice of the peace and would sit as coroner.</p> + +<p>Badger filled the court-room on the morrow. The crowd overflowed into +the street, and there was much jostling and frantic efforts at peering +over the heads of neighbors; also, requests to witnesses to speak +louder, that all might hear. Follows a rough transcript of the evidence +presented.</p> + +<p>Bartender.—It was ten o'clock. There was nobody in the bar except Dan +Boone—he was playing solitaire in the far corner—and Jeff Thomas, and +a fat party unknown to him. The fat party had come in with the sheriff +and sat over against the window. Jeff was alone and was monkeying with +his fingers on the table—sort of playing tunes. He, the bartender, was +reading a letter from a lady who lived in Silver City—a right nice, +respectable lady—when Bud came in on the jump. He yelled something at +Jeff and they took to shooting. That's all he saw, because he hid behind +the beer-keg immediately. Yes, he had heard shots. Four, he thought, but +he could not be sure. The bartender rubbed his bald spot and added that +there seemed to be five, but he would not swear to that—they came so +fast.</p> + +<p>Daniel Boone.—He had seen nothing at all, but had heard shots. No, he +could not say how many. Then, when the sheriff came back, he saw Bud +Walton lying dead and Jeff standing over him, a little to one side.</p> + +<p>Myself.—A boy had summoned the sheriff to the express office while he +and I were seated in the Fashion, playing dominoes. Soon afterwards a +man entered quickly—yes, it was the man whose body lay upstairs—and +yelled at Thomas that he had got him now. Thomas was alone at a table +in the center of the room. He was strumming with his fingers on the +table. The visitor fired first; then there was another shot, and he +dropped to the floor. After he fell, Thomas shot twice. He missed him +both times.</p> + +<p>Tommy Turner.—Bud Walton had sent him with a message to the sheriff in +the Fashion. The message was that Lafe was wanted at the express office +right away.</p> + +<p>Thereupon the coroner requested the survivor for his version of the +fight.</p> + +<p>Jeff Thomas.—He was waiting in the Fashion for one of the Lazy L boys +to come along. They had a horse trade on. Bud Walton appeared at the +door. He pulled a gun on him. Bud got the first shot in—he was positive +of that. He fired once and Walton went down. Not being certain Bud was +really done for, he pulled a couple of times more, but thought he had +missed.</p> + +<p>Yes, they had long been enemies. Walton was always abusing him behind +his back. He had made threats. Some of his friends had strung up Tom +Rooker, too. Tom wouldn't never harm a fly in his life. Only the day +before, Bud had told some men Jeff knew, that he would get Thomas within +forty-eight hours. So witness had asked for a permit to carry a gun. Mr. +Turner knew about this. He had given the permit.</p> + +<p>The coroner.—"Did you expect him last night?"</p> + +<p>Thomas hesitated perceptibly. "Yes, I did," he said.</p> + +<p>"What made you?"</p> + +<p>"Somebody tipped me off he might be coming. I'd rather not say who it +was."</p> + +<p>Coroner.—"Where did Walton's shot go?"</p> + +<p>"Here," said the prisoner.</p> + +<p>He fished in his pocket and drew out a Bible. The crowd craned their +necks and swayed toward it eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Why, that's mine," the coroner said.</p> + +<p>It was, in truth, one that Bob had carried off as a Sunday School prize, +when a boy, in Ohio. It was so stiff that the cover cracked when it was +opened; but the leather binding was ripped and torn, and the leaves were +plowed into pulp for three-fourths of its thickness. At this point the +sheriff explained that the bullet had been deflected into the solid wood +of the table. He had dug it out.</p> + +<p>Coroner.—"Where did you get this here book?"</p> + +<p>The gunfighter looked rather sheepish.</p> + +<p>"I'm sort of superstitious," he confessed, "and when I seen that in your +office the other day, Bob, I stuck it inside my shirt."</p> + +<p>A murmur swept over the court-room and beat against the walls.</p> + +<p>Coroner.—"You've killed six men, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; you're wrong. Only four," Thomas corrected, licking his dry +lips.</p> + +<p>"Gen'l'men," said the coroner, not without sternness toward Thomas, +"this hits me like so plain a case of shooting in self-defense, that I +reckon we don't need to bother no more about the evidence."</p> + +<p>"Hold on," the sheriff said. "Hold on, there; I'd like for to say +something."</p> + +<p>Being duly sworn, he started off like this: "Gentlemen, this wasn't a +killing. It was a murder."</p> + +<p>Everybody waited open-mouthed to hear more. Thomas turned on him a +quick, startled glance. Then someone said: "What's the matter with you, +Lafe?"</p> + +<p>"It's just what I done said. Murder."</p> + +<p>There was a stir, and a ripple of unbelieving laughter. "Order!" the +coroner cried. He was looking to Johnson for explanation.</p> + +<p>"I was kind of wondering," the prisoner muttered, half aloud, as though +not altogether surprised at the turn of events.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, Bud Walton was murdered. This man here didn't kill him at +all. Here's Jeff's gun. Take a look at it. It's a .45. Bud, he was +killed with a 30-30 rifle. Here's the bullet. Jeff's first shot went way +above his head into the ceiling, and the next two are in the boards."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>A JOURNEY TO SATAN'S KINGDOM</h3> + + +<p>"What're you giving us?" "Go on, Lafe." "Hush, let's hear him." "Quit +crowding there, will you?" "Say, are you looking for trouble?" "Well, +quit it." It was long before quiet could be obtained.</p> + +<p>The sheriff waited for absolute silence before taking up the thread of +his explanation again. Then he said, slowly scanning the faces around +him—"Mr. Coroner, if you'll adjourn this here court for two days, I'll +bring the murderer here."</p> + +<p>The inquest adjourned in confusion. Thomas was released, only to be +rearrested.</p> + +<p>"I'll learn fellers like you a lesson," the sheriff told him. "Bob, give +him thirty days for stealing that there Bible of yours."</p> + +<p>The justice of the peace imposed the sentence with alacrity. It had the +appearance of spite, but Jeff exhibited no resentment and left for the +county town in charge of a deputy, without a word of protest. To me, he +appeared a broken man.</p> + +<p>Not a word of enlightenment would the sheriff give, although all Badger +was agog with excitement and babbled questions wherever he moved. They +would cling to his arm in their eagerness, but he shook them off. At +dinner, he ordered me to fetch my horse, for he planned a hard ride.</p> + +<p>It was early afternoon when we set out for Satan's Kingdom. Our way took +us through the Willows, which we threaded at dusk. We were passing a +certain pile of rocks, when the sheriff pointed with his forefinger.</p> + +<p>"Look," he said.</p> + +<p>The Mother of Cottonwoods towered above the lesser trees, plain to the +sight. She was black and stark, bare as though blasted by lightning. We +jogged along mutely.</p> + +<p>"Look a-here," the sheriff said, as we neared the mountain village, "you +done heard that shooting. What did you hear? Tell me as near as you +can."</p> + +<p>I strove to focus all my faculties on the task.</p> + +<p>"There was a first shot—that must have been Bud's."</p> + +<p>"Never mind whose it was," said Johnson.</p> + +<p>"Then there seemed to be two very close together. I'm not sure about +that, Lafe, because it might have been one, sort of drawn out. But I was +watching Jeff's hand and it looked only half-way out of his shirt when +that second shot started."</p> + +<p>"Good. How did it sound?"</p> + +<p>"Well, she began with more of a ring to her—sharper than a +six-shooter—and she ended heavily, just like a .45."</p> + +<p>"Sure," he said, with great satisfaction. "That was the 30-30. It just +beat Jeff to the mark. Why didn't you tell that at the inquest?"</p> + +<p>"I wasn't sure," I answered lamely. "Nobody would have believed me, +anyway."</p> + +<p>"So you think a feller ought to tell only what he figures folks will +believe? Well, it don't matter. Don't get hot. Listen. We'll bring back +the feller who shot Bud, to-night or to-morrow. He was hiding in that +dark hall back of Thomas, just waiting for a chance. As quick as I saw +the hole in Bud's head, I said to myself, 'A .45 never made that, son.' +No, sir; I sure knew that 30-30 mark."</p> + +<p>"How did you know where it came from?"</p> + +<p>"That's easy. Bud was shot in front, wasn't he? Well, Jeff didn't do it, +so I hunted in that passage to find out who did. Sure enough, a feller +had braced himself with his hand on the wall. He was a powerful big +brute, too—more'n six feet high, easy."</p> + +<p>The sheriff chuckled, pleased as a boy with his own astuteness.</p> + +<p>"Say, Dan, it's almost funny the way things turn out. Ol' Miguel, the +lazy rascal, he done left a tin of axle grease on a shelf beside the +back door, and when this feller come in and went sneaking along the +hall, a-feeling his way so as not to make a noise, he stuck his hand +into it. Then he leaned with that hand bracing him, while he waited for +Bud. Do you get that? That was the hand he leaned on. Wouldn't that most +scare you? That gives his size away. Why couldn't his luck have made him +lean with the other hand? I tell you, it makes a man think."</p> + +<p>He would not talk more on the subject and evinced impatience when +pressed. We put up at Kelley's place in the Kingdom, and the sheriff had +a few words with Kelley himself before we ate a meal specially prepared +for us.</p> + +<p>"No, he ain't here just now," Kelley said. "He done rode off just after +supper. But he'll be here in the morning for breakfast. I hope there +ain't nothing wrong, Lafe?"</p> + +<p>"No-oo. We just want a talk, that's all. Don't tell him, Kelley."</p> + +<p>There were half a dozen persons at the table when we took our places not +long after daylight. Three were prospectors, one was a cowboy, and a +miner sat next him. Opposite me was a long, lank, youthful-appearing +man, who consumed his food with his nose very close to his plate. He had +little to say, except when he desired something.</p> + +<p>Now, if a man be a lusty trencherman, or if he wolf his food, either by +tearing or the process of inhalation, we never pass direct criticism. +That might hurt his feelings and the sensibilities of the other diners. +No; instead, one glances good-naturedly about the board to pick up the +eyes, and remarks in a slow, modulated tone—"Say, ol' Bill here don't +eat enough to fatten a hog, does he?"</p> + +<p>The sheriff watched this individual intently for a space. His scrutiny +made me uneasy, although it is true that the gentleman's table manners +were offensive. Then he leaned toward him and remarked, smilingly: "Say, +you don't eat enough to fatten a steer, do you?"</p> + +<p>I expected an outbreak. The long person raised his eyes and a sickly +smile overspread his face. And then I knew what manner of man we had to +deal with. Because, when a man of pluck receives a blow that hurts, he +first looks serious and perhaps thoughtful; that is followed by a +determined squaring of the jaw. At last he said, essaying a sneer:</p> + +<p>"I reckon you've got the world by the tail with a down-hill pull, ain't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Johnson. "I've got you, anyhow, Slim. You're under +arrest. Finish that coffee and come on."</p> + +<p>"Who're you?" the other asked slowly.</p> + +<p>"The sheriff of Badger."</p> + +<p>"Well, I ain't sorry. I'll go along," was the reply.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the second day, another coroner's inquest sat in +Badger. Slim Terry faced it. A greenish pallor showed near his eyes and +around the corners of his mouth, but he talked composedly.</p> + +<p>Coroner.—"Did you shoot Bud Walton?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Tell us about it."</p> + +<p>The prisoner passed a hand over his forehead and down to his chin, as +though to clear his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"This feller Walton, judge, he done run me out of Badger. First, though, +he run me out of the Fashion. I ain't been in this town for six months +till the day of the shooting. Yes, I was scared of him. I ain't a +fighter, gen'l'men. I come in that day, because somebody done sent for +me."</p> + +<p>Coroner.—"Who sent for you?"</p> + +<p>Slim pondered this question. "I ain't a-going to tell that," he said. +"Well, I laid quiet at ol' Raphael's place on the aidge of town until +dark, and then I sneaked up back of the Fashion. Nobody seen me. +Somebody'd told me Bud Walton would likely do for Thomas there that +night, and I figured to get him from that back hall in the mixup. One of +us was sure to nail him."</p> + +<p>"Who told you this?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't a-going to tell. I've said that twice already, Mr. Turner, so +you needn't ask me. Well, I waited in the hall there, standing mighty +quiet. I seen Thomas at the table and a fat gen'l'man over near the +window with the sheriff here. I didn't know he was the sheriff then. By +and by a boy come in and the sheriff went out. Then all at once Bud +Walton run in at the door and pulled a gun. And then I let him have it. +I plugged him square. Couldn't miss at that distance. What'd you say, +judge? No; nobody seen me. I run out into the lot back of the Fashion +and got on my horse. I've been at the Kingdom most of the time since, +but I wasn't trying to hide out. How did you find out, Mr. Johnson?"</p> + +<p>The audience in the court-room listened to this recital with scant +sympathy. Their disapproval was obvious. Even the sheriff appeared a +trifle ashamed of his prisoner.</p> + +<p>"Did you have any other reason, Terry, for shooting this man?" asked the +coroner.</p> + +<p>"No, sir. He done run me off, and I was afraid he would kill me some +day, the same as he'd done to a lot of others. So I plugged him—there +in the Fashion."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie. He's lying, judge," cried a treble voice at the door.</p> + +<p>The crowd wavered and split apart, and a woman broke through and +confronted the coroner. It was Tilly, the waitress at the annex. Her +hair was disordered and hung in lank wisps about her face, but she gave +no thought to that. With her red arms bare to the elbow, and her cheeks +flabby and pale from fright, she took position squarely in front of +Turner. She tried to speak, but gasped for breath.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>A WAITRESS TO THE RESCUE</h3> + + +<p>"Order in the court!" shouted the coroner.</p> + +<p>"That man there—him, Slim Terry—he's lying to you, judge. Yes. He is. +He's lying. He didn't kill Bud. He's lying, judge. He is; honest."</p> + +<p>"Who killed him then?" said the coroner. The sheriff walked over and +stood beside the girl.</p> + +<p>"I did. I shot him. I—"</p> + +<p>"Tilly, you're crazy. Stop her, sheriff. She ain't telling the truth. +She's—" The prisoner made to shove her back.</p> + +<p>"Order in the court!" Turner roared.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me. I'm going to tell you. Yes, I am. I'm going to tell."</p> + +<p>"Silence, gentlemen. Let's hear what she's got to say," the sheriff +ordered.</p> + +<p>"I knew Bud Walton was coming to the Fashion that night to look for Jeff +Thomas." Tilly told her story gustfully, her voice shrill. "Yes, I knew +it. I told Jeff so. Why shouldn't I? Bud told me. He'd been drinking the +night before. That man sitting there was my fellow. He came to see me +that afternoon, and I had to hide him in ol' Raphael's house like any +dog. All because of Bud Walton. Yes."</p> + +<p>"Go on. Quiet, please."</p> + +<p>"Slim, he wanted to shoot Bud himself. So would you, judge, if you knew. +But I said no. Do you know why he wanted to shoot? I'll tell you. Bud +Walton was bad. Yes. He was. He was a bad man. He asked me to marry him, +and when I laughed, he said he'd take me anyhow. Yes. That is what he +said. He was bad. And I got afraid. He done run Slim out of town last +year and there was nobody—oh, don't let 'em all stare at me that way, +judge. I'm telling the truth. Before God, I am."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Turner huskily.</p> + +<p>"I was in the hall with Slim. I let him in at the door. Yes, I did. It +was locked. We had a rifle and we stood there. I had often shot at +prairie-dogs with the rifle when me and Slim would go riding together. +Slim, he couldn't never hit a barn door. No wonder he was scared of Bud. +It's true—true as gospel, judge. He couldn't have killed him. No. I +made him put both hands against the wall and then I rested the gun on +his shoulder. Yes. I did. Bud Walton was bad. He was a bad man. When I +saw him, I pulled quick. And then I shut my eyes. And then—I don't +rightly remember after that. That's the truth. It's all true, every +word. Yes. It is. Slim, he went away—and now—oh, oh, oh."</p> + +<p>She rocked on her feet, her hands over her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Order in the court! Order in the court!" the coroner bawled, though you +could have heard a man gulp.</p> + +<p>The sheriff took Tilly by the arm and led her away. He permitted Slim to +come with them.</p> + +<p>"Gen'l'men," said Turner, clearing his throat as he rose from his chair, +"this court stands adjourned. Bud, he just died. That's good enough for +him."</p> + +<p>The next morning the sheriff called on Tilly at the Fashion and told her +to don her best bib and tucker with all speed.</p> + +<p>"I'd a heap rather go to this here Slim party's funeral, Tilly," he +said, "but I suppose you've got to have him. So get a move on. I reckon +Badger can stake you to a wedding."</p> + +<p>Naught cared Tilly for this genial slight on her lover. She had +him—that was sufficient for her. A woman does not need to respect a man +in order to love him devotedly. Moist of face, but radiant, she +presented herself before Lafe within an hour.</p> + +<p>And to what a wedding did Badger stake the waitress! The entire town +seemed to regard it as a public event in which every citizen had a +personal interest and a duty to perform; and they did it nobly. Tilly +was deluged with gifts, ranging from a Book of Common Prayer to a heifer +calf, which the donor assured her would one day develop into a fine +milch cow and feed all the little Terrys.</p> + +<p>Lafe took upon himself the conduct of the proceedings. And in the course +of them he became so wrought up that he made a speech, a faculty for +which had hitherto been unsuspected in the sheriff. He started off by +saying it would not be much of a speech, and he was correct. Yet such +was his fervor that Tilly cried for the fifth time that day, and her +husband gulped until his Adam's apple threatened to jump out of his +throat, as he gripped Johnson's hand.</p> + +<p>A strict adherence to facts compels the admission that there was a very +considerable consumption of liquor on this day. You see, nothing is ever +consummated in Badger, from a sale of steers or a horse trade, to a +wedding in the season, without a certain indulgence of this nature.</p> + +<p>For, in the course of human events and in pursuit of that liberty and +happiness which constitute the inalienable right of every citizen, a man +is apt, from time to time, to get drunk. Nobody in Badger ever held it +against him—far from it. Let that then be the excuse for sundry +estimable gentlemen who felt badly the morning after Tilly's marriage. +Let that explain the presence of the justice of the peace and the +sheriff of Badger and Dr. Armstrong, when they foregathered in the +Fashion before breakfast, to compare symptoms and to contrive means by +which they might last through another sun. Indeed, convivial relaxation +was regarded in Badger as incidental to male existence, however rarely +these "benders," as they were termed in local parlance, might be +tempered by discretion.</p> + +<p>Yet there have always been certain unwritten rules governing bouts with +Care, and if a man broke them in Badger, he became either a social +outcast or an inmate of the calaboose, which was worse. The calaboose +was once a livery stable and has never entirely got over it.</p> + +<p>This qualifying statement is by way of leading up to happenings that +wrought a regeneration in Lafe Johnson and changed the whole course of +his life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE SHERIFF SETTLES A CONJUGAL DISPUTE</h3> + + +<p>About a year after the killing of Bud Walton, the sheriff was engaged +one day in a game of pitch in the Fashion. Order in Badger had been +excellent of late. This had not been accomplished by moral suasion, +although that had been a factor, but by stern and often fearless +performance of duty in quelling disorders. Johnson's reputation had +grown apace. He always knew the precise moment to strike, which +effectually nipped many threatening feuds.</p> + +<p>On this day, Sellers Hardin stopped his stage in front of the Fashion +and inquired for the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"Say, Lafe," he said, "there's a guy over to the Cowboys' Rest bawling +his wife out powerful strong. I'd sure have smeared the road with that +gen'l'man, only it weren't my business. Hey? Yes, I left 'em over there. +They come off that El Paso train, the two of 'em."</p> + +<p>"I'll step across," said the sheriff.</p> + +<p>He threw down his cards and walked over to the rival saloon. The +landlord, who had long forgiven the blow on the head and was now a +staunch Johnson man, nodded at him and paused in his work of polishing +glasses to point to the door of a rear room with the towel. Inside, a +loud voice was raised in maudlin harangue.</p> + +<p>"You come along now. I'll show you. You bet we'll stay here. What? I'll +learn you who's boss right now. Didn't I send you your fare? Huh? And +you done come ahead on the jump. But you're too good for me now all of a +sudden, ain't you? I'll—"</p> + +<p>Lafe found a man denouncing a young woman. She sat near the window, and +showed no fear as she watched him storm up and down the floor, pouring +out reproaches and abuse. She was pale, but perfectly collected, and she +rested her chin in her palm, regarding her companion with a species of +impersonal speculation. He was a florid, youthful person of very baggy +clothes and with his hair parted in the middle. The shoulders of his +coat projected beyond his real shoulders to an astonishing width, and he +wore peg-top trousers; also, his shoes had beautiful sloping heels and +flowing bows. An intense, nervous irritability kept his arms jerking +about. She listened placidly.</p> + +<p>"If you don't quit your fooling and come along with me—" he was saying, +when she cautioned: "There's somebody behind you." He wheeled and beheld +the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"What's the trouble here?" Lafe asked.</p> + +<p>"None of your business. That's what. When we want any help in a fam'ly +dispute, we'll send for you."</p> + +<p>The sheriff, by way of answer, selected a chair and placed his hat +carefully on the floor.</p> + +<p>"You're drunk," he said, with the utmost good-nature. "Let's be +friendly, now, and get this thing settled."</p> + +<p>Beyond a faint curiosity, the girl exhibited no interest in his arrival, +but her companion planted himself in front of Johnson, with his feet +wide apart, and made a strong effort to look threatening.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be doggoned," he said. "Who're you, anyway? What do you +think you're doing, butting into my private affairs this way? Ain't a +man boss of his own wife? Ain't I got any rights? You get out now, +before I throw you out."</p> + +<p>"This here party," Lafe said to her in a confidential aside, "is fixing +to throw me into the road. He sure will, too. You can see that sticking +out all over him. What do you want that I should do?"</p> + +<p>"You don't look very scared."</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am. I always try to hide my feelings. Do you reckon you can +handle him yourself, or will I take him along?"</p> + +<p>"Say, you! You pay attention to—"</p> + +<p>"Where'll you take him?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Look a-here, you two—"</p> + +<p>"We've got a nice, peaceful lockup, where the rats is friendly," +answered the sheriff. "He won't be lonely. There's a Mexican there +right now, drunker'n he is."</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders and looked out of the window. "Suit +yourself," she said.</p> + +<p>"Say," cried the gentleman of the peg-tops, "ain't I got anything to say +in this? You're getting too gay, you two. Do you hear? Ain't a man got +any rights in this country? I can run my wife alone, can't I?"</p> + +<p>"Does this here party belong to you, ma'am? Are you his wife?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"What? You ain't? You sit there and say you ain't my wife? Why—"</p> + +<p>"I married him, but I'm not his wife."</p> + +<p>"Sure," said the sheriff, "I see. I don't blame you, ma'am." He put on +his hat. The other was watching him doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"You come along with me," said Lafe.</p> + +<p>"Come along, my foot. What do you think you are, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"That's all right. I'm sheriff here. And if I wasn't, I'd take you +along. It's one of the rules of this here town that a man can't talk to +his wife like you done. Understand? Get a-going, now. I'm liable to get +peevish directly."</p> + +<p>Still he hesitated. Lafe was growing angry. His rage always seemed +sudden, but this was by design. In reality it was the release of +long-pent and controlled passion.</p> + +<p>Said the sheriff: "Hurry up, Harris."</p> + +<p>"My name ain't Harris. It's Jackson."</p> + +<p>"Jackson or Harris, it's all the same to me. You were Harris when me and +Buf'lo Jim done run you out of Cananea. I reckon you ain't forgot that, +have you?"</p> + +<p>A quick glimmer of recognition showed that Mr. Harris had not. He +sobered with amazing celerity.</p> + +<p>"Where're we going?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"You get moving first," said the sheriff, "and then we'll figure on +that."</p> + +<p>"I won't go," was the emphatic rejoinder. "No, sir; not me. Tell him to +leave us alone, Hetty. I'm within my rights. And you're framing up +something. I can tell."</p> + +<p>"Say, Harris, you're fixing to get hurt awful bad." The sheriff's air +was regretful. He stepped to the door and held it open, nodding at +Jackson. That young man gave him a swift look and banged his hat down +over his curling bang. Without even a word to the girl, who was +regarding the tableau much as a spectator from a seat in the stalls, he +walked out. The sheriff followed. Within a minute he stuck his head +inside again to say: "I'll be back right away." She made no response.</p> + +<p>The two walked out to the residence of Dutch Annie, Johnson a yard in +advance.</p> + +<p>Dutch Annie said: "Don't you bring that rat in here, Mr. Johnson."</p> + +<p>She was a forceful woman, of startling precision of speech. Annie would +not open the door, but surveyed the abject Harris through a crack about +two inches wide. The sheriff kept the toe of his boot inside, to prevent +Dutch Annie slamming it against them.</p> + +<p>"I'm not here to make trouble for you, Annie," he hastened to say, "but +just take a look at this feller. Ain't you seen him before?"</p> + +<p>"Huh! I reckon so. He done married Sarah last year and run off and left +her on my hands. Hush—best to get away quiet. If she hears he's here, +there'll be no holding of Sarah."</p> + +<p>"That's all," said Lafe, and the door banged in their faces.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said to Harris, "you hit for foreign shores. I start shooting +at forty. Quick."</p> + +<p>This does not pretend to be an exact reproduction of the sheriff's +speech, because he had an honest man's loathing and contempt for this +kind of male. But it is the gist of his words. The procurer made the +first hundred yards in fifteen seconds flat, so the sheriff speeded his +count, lest he get out of range. The satisfaction was accorded him of +dusting Jackson's heels as he ran, and Lafe repaired to the Cowboys' +Rest in a better frame of mind.</p> + +<p>"She ain't here," the landlord told him. "She's done gone."</p> + +<p>The sheriff found her at the Fashion. "You reckon you're a married +woman, I take it, ma'am?'" he inquired cheerily.</p> + +<p>"I married him in El Paso. Yes, I had to. He'd paid my fare. Yes, I do."</p> + +<p>"Well, you ain't," said Lafe. "He's got one wife already that I know of, +that fine gen'l'man, and probably bunches more, besides."</p> + +<p>She thought this over for a minute. There was no surprise; neither was +there any of the joy he had anticipated; and no sign of reaction or +tears.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>AND HETTY COMES TO BADGER TO LIVE</h3> + + +<p>"Where is she?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Who? This wife? Oh, over beyond. Not so very far from here. You won't +never see her," was the careless reply.</p> + +<p>Again she appeared to ponder what he said. A slight shiver was quickly +repressed. At last: "So that's what he is? You reckon—"</p> + +<p>"Where's your outfit, ma'am?" the sheriff interrupted.</p> + +<p>"My trunk? It's here. I've taken a room."</p> + +<p>They were in the parlor of the Fashion, one flight above the street. It +was sumptuously furnished, the proprietor taking pride in his +establishment—a red plush sofa, a table, three chairs, and a +cottage-organ. On the wall was a chromo lithograph of a girl clinging to +a wave-swept pillar of stone. This was entitled "Rock of Ages."</p> + +<p>Thereupon she told him her story. Of course Lafe did not believe half of +what she said, although he gave ear gravely to her direct manner of +replying to his questions. The girl's self-possession and cool disregard +of the extremity to which she was reduced, suggested only one +explanation to his mind—ripe experience. He had never encountered these +traits among ladies of domestic virtues.</p> + +<p>Her name was Hetty Ferrier, and Miss Ferrier had exactly eleven dollars +and seventy cents. She had lived in Eau Claire, but went to Chicago to +make a fortune and to marry a rich, handsome youth, as girls starting +out in the world invariably do. There she got a job in a department +store, where they paid her four dollars and a half a week to keep soul +and body together, though subsequently little consideration was shown +for her soul. When she parried the assistant manager's attentions she +was removed from the lace counter to the hardware department, but she +did not care. Then she fell ill; for breakfast foods, wetted with watery +milk and eaten in a room opening on hot, slate roofs, are not a +sustaining diet when one stands all day on one's feet. So she was sent +back home from the hospital. And her parents were miserably poor. Her +father had borrowed the money to bring her home. She began reading +advertisements again, and finally answered one of the matrimonial +variety.</p> + +<p>That was all. This man Jackson replied to her, and his letters were very +nice—those of a perfect gentleman, Miss Ferrier assured the sheriff. +Then he sent the money, and she journeyed to El Paso. He was not what +she had expected, but he treated her decently when he met her at the +train. Furthermore, he could be very amusing and "splendid company," she +said; so she went through a ceremony with him. After that he went away +to get tickets, and when he came back, he was drunk. She was frightened +and sat up all night in a day coach, and he went to sleep in a Pullman, +waking up sometimes to order the porter to tell her to go to sleep at +once. When they got out, he said they would take the stage to Badger, +where he had some business to transact, and then go on to Nogales.</p> + +<p>The sheriff pressed for fuller information. Had she no friends while +working in the city? Yes, she knew some of the girls, but they were +always scheming for a good time, and she never had any money. The nicest +ones lived at home, but not all of them. Several young men had been kind +to her and had taken her to theaters. But they usually tried to get +fresh, said Miss Ferrier. Some appeared to have heaps of money, but +others worked for it as she did, only they spent it with princely +recklessness on pay night.</p> + +<p>There was one—she came to a full stop. Yes, she would tell him about +that one, too. He was very poor. Indeed, he dressed so shabbily that the +girls tittered when he called to meet her at the employés' entrance. No; +he treated her all right and was always respectful. She liked him +because he was very good, and different. He was a student and was +working his way through college by waiting in a dining-hall. They had +hoped to marry some day. Then she got sick and went home. It would have +taken years, anyway. She seemed never to have regarded the prospect +with much hope.</p> + +<p>"Uh-huh!" said the sheriff, when she had finished. "And what do you aim +to do now?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. What can I do? Get a job as waitress, I guess."</p> + +<p>She appeared undistressed by the prospect, but it was the apathy of +countless failures and physical exhaustion.</p> + +<p>"No," he said with decision. "You're a heap too pretty for that."</p> + +<p>"You think so?" she asked indifferently.</p> + +<p>"You bet I do." It was Lafe Johnson who was talking now, and not the +sheriff of Badger. They were alone in the parlor. He watched her for a +moment. Her profile was turned to him and her attitude was one of tired +acquiescence with the stress of her situation. He hitched his chair +forward close to hers.</p> + +<p>"Say," he said, lowering his voice, "you forget this here Harris and all +that, and throw in with me. I'll treat you good."</p> + +<p>"How—throw in with you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you know. I'll take you over to a li'l' place I've got beyond the +Willows. It's right pretty. We'll—"</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said Miss Ferrier, without a trace of resentment, "I wonder +if there's more than one man on earth who isn't a brute?"</p> + +<p>"I don't take you, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"What difference is there between you and the others? How're you better +than this fellow you ran off—this Jackson?" she demanded, with her +first display of animation. "You've got nothing on him."</p> + +<p>"Say, you quit that. Quit that right now. I don't make my living—"</p> + +<p>"And neither do I, Mr. Johnson. So put that in your pipe and smoke it."</p> + +<p>She jumped to her feet and went out before he could prevent her. Johnson +heard the bolt of her room jerked into place, and then he went +downstairs, whistling a casual air. The barkeeper brought a tried +judgment to bear on these symptoms and furtively closed one eye at the +proprietor.</p> + +<p>"Humph," said Lafe, when he was outside and walking toward the cattle +company's corral. "She can give any woman I ever done met up with, cards +and spades at a bluff."</p> + +<p>Yet he was seized of qualms. It was the first time in his tenure of +office that the man had triumphed over the official in any respect +whatsoever. He had done his work with a single eye to duty, and without +prejudice; and he had done it well. Nor was he given to pursuit of this +nature. The girl made a tremendous physical appeal to him, and of course +all that about the assistant manager and those other fellows was pure +fiction. Lafe knew women of her stamp better than that.</p> + +<p>He was low in spirits all afternoon, and about sunset invaded the bar of +the Cowboys' Rest.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to get pickled," he announced, "not real drunk, you +understand. Nothing vulgar, but just nice and quiet. Here's my gun. I +reckon Badger'll run itself for a day or two."</p> + +<p>"It's sure a-coming to you, Lafe," said the landlord. "You've been sober +for a right smart spell."</p> + +<p>In the morning he felt very rocky, for the refreshment they provide in +Badger would stagger the oldest man in the world; and he could hear +bands playing in unlooked-for places. So he gave over in disgust all +thought of further carnival and went to the Fashion for breakfast, +knowing of old that a hearty meal would set him right.</p> + +<p>Miss Ferrier waited on him. So she had secured the job! The barkeeper +told Lafe that she got it so quick it made his hair curl, and she was +sure a waitress.</p> + +<p>"She's got the rollers under the ol' man," he said. "He'll eat out of +her hand. Say, business ought to pick up. Don't you reckon?"</p> + +<p>Assuredly it did. All the unattached men of Badger developed a taste for +the corncakes served at the Fashion. One of the Anvil boys happened to +ride into town for a new pair of boots, and took dinner there. What he +narrated on his return kept an entire outfit sleepless far into the +night, planning methods of getting a day off, and it is on record that +twenty-seven extra meals were served in as many days to gentlemen who +smelled healthily of horse and walked to a merry jingle of spurs. Hetty +treated all alike and was a paragon of waitresses. All aspired to be +admirers. The majority were shy and ill at ease, given to staring at the +menu with glassy, uncomprehending eyes; but there did not lack doughty +ones. They lost their courage completely, however, when it came to +finishing what they began, in face of her calmly amused smile.</p> + +<p>Yet she did not come off scatheless. They were lavish in their +invitations, and horses were thrust at her as gifts, like so many boxes +of chocolates. She was anxious to learn to bestride a horse, and when +she had acquired the knack, Hetty readily accepted several proposals for +rides up the valley. Then she abruptly discontinued them; for, fired by +what they had heard, her escorts grew bold. Two she repulsed +successfully, and followed that up with lashings of a quirt, but the +third achieved her waist and lips. He got small satisfaction for his +trouble. Her chilling surrender to his kiss when she felt herself +helpless, took all the eagerness of the conqueror out of him. The cowboy +was miserably penitent on the way home and later announced that he would +bet everything he had, inclusive of socks, that Miss Ferrier was the +finest girl in town and could lay it over any lady of his acquaintance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE SHERIFF ENSNARED</h3> + + +<p>Evidently the feminine portion of the population did not agree with him. +One was openly hostile—a Mrs. Garland. But she may not have been +unprejudiced, for her maiden name had been Grace Hawes. For some +reason—not unconnected with her manner of arrival in Badger—the +married women fought shy of Hetty and kept their daughters rigidly +aloof. She perceived this quickly enough—long before the men remarked +it—and accepted it as she did everything else, with a species of +passive disdain.</p> + +<p>"What for do you let these here fellers get off them bum jokes?" said +Lafe suddenly, one day at dinner. He was in high dudgeon. The sheriff +was a regular boarder at the Fashion now, but seldom did he offer a word +to the waitress, or she one to him.</p> + +<p>"If it amuses them, let 'em do it. It don't hurt me," she said, +unruffled.</p> + +<p>"Yes it does, too, hurt you. Say, you'd ought to wear a high collar."</p> + +<p>"You mind your own business," Hetty cried hotly and flushed to the tips +of her ears.</p> + +<p>The white, white column of her neck was always bare, for she knew its +beauty full as well as did anybody else and wore her dress cut low +accordingly; and Mr. Johnson had noted with consuming rage that it held +the rapt gaze of the diners. Indeed, she was a strapping, fine woman. +Black hair, heavy black eye-brows, blue eyes and a dazzling skin—they +made an unusual combination. Hetty carried herself fearlessly erect. Her +figure was full but supple, and she walked as if her body held +inexhaustible reserves of strength.</p> + +<p>He said no more then, but later broke out with the stunning declaration +that waiting on table was no fit job for a lady—not with a lot of lazy +loafers round, especially. His proposition was that she get out of the +Fashion and go to live with the Widow Brown, who was a nice, respectable +woman, and would be company for her. And the sheriff would see that she +got a job of some sort. Or perhaps she would like to go on a visit to +Mrs. Floyd, whose husband owned the Lazy L range. He would secure her an +invitation.</p> + +<p>"You're awful kind, aren't you?" she said. "You make me think of Bessie +and her fellow, you do."</p> + +<p>Lafe intimated that these individuals were unknown to him, but he fain +would hear more.</p> + +<p>"Why, this fellow of Bessie's—Bess worked next to me at the store—he +wanted to reform her, he said—Bess was really too fly."</p> + +<p>"Well? Why shouldn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Huh! Reform her!" said Miss Ferrier. "He only wanted to keep everybody +else away."</p> + +<p>"She's tough." Lafe assured himself of this again and again as he went +home. "She's mighty tough; yes, sir. Else she couldn't talk that away. +And them friends of hers. A city's a rotten place."</p> + +<p>Of course, he, too, asked her to go riding. She thanked him, but +refused.</p> + +<p>"I'll treat you proper," he said.</p> + +<p>"You can bank on it you will. But I won't go. No, thanks."</p> + +<p>A silver heart he purchased for her, together with an enormously long +chain, was returned without a syllable of explanation, although the gift +was dispatched anonymously. The sheriff was much chagrined. Hetty did +her task above criticism when he was at table, but all efforts to +establish a friendlier footing met with rebuffs.</p> + +<p>"I'll be doggoned if you ain't nicer to these here other fellers than +you are to me," said Lafe, after a fortnight of this.</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I be?"</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't—? I swan I don't know."</p> + +<p>The admission was wrung from him slowly, and he appeared to be deep in +thought during the remainder of the meal. His manner thenceforward took +on a grave, distant politeness that Hetty found peculiarly galling. +Meanwhile, the world wagged on about as usual.</p> + +<p>One day he listened with a very bad grace to certain compliments paid by +a puncher to Hetty. He considered them to be in execrable taste, +probably because her badinage in reply lacked its usual sting. He +frowned sullenly, and Mr. Johnson's reputation was such that this surly +demeanor greatly disconcerted her admirer, much to Hetty's annoyance. +The sheriff lingered after the others had risen from the table.</p> + +<p>"I'll find out right now," he said determinedly.</p> + +<p>Hetty happened to lean over his shoulder to remove some dishes. With a +dexterous twist, he pinioned her arms and kissed her full on the mouth. +She was quite passive under it, gazing steadily into his eyes when he +paused.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself," was all she said.</p> + +<p>"I ain't complaining," he answered thickly. Yet he released her.</p> + +<p>A bad week followed for Lafe. He was irascible, quick to snap up a word, +which was foreign to him. So insulting was his behavior that the +landlord of the Fashion feared he would have to shoot Lafe some day when +he caught him without a gun.</p> + +<p>The sheriff occupied a two-roomed frame shack on the edge of town. It +was a cheerless hole of a place. His barn, where he kept his three +horses, was inviting by comparison. Often of nights he paced the bare +floor of the bedroom, and more than once the faint dawn was whitening +the windows, and the cocks of all Badger were lustily heralding the +sun, before he threw himself down to sleep. One evening he deposited his +lantern on a chair and sat down in another beside it, and in that +half-light tried to reason out the whole problem. About midnight he +threw away his cigarette and prepared for bed.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, ruffling the sheet with his toes, "I give in. She may +be worse'n ol' Dutch Annie, but I've got to have her. That's all there +is to that."</p> + +<p>He sought Hetty next evening after her work was done at the Fashion. She +was standing in the rear doorway of the annex.</p> + +<p>"I want you to marry me," he began.</p> + +<p>"You do, do you? I suppose you think you're doing something mighty fine +to ask me, don't you?" A slight color rose in her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Never mind what I think. I can't do without you. It must be love, I +reckon, though it ain't what I thought that was. But I want you to marry +me, anyhow. Will you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I won't," she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you will, too."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't marry you, Lafe Johnson, if you were the last man on top of +earth." She turned indoors.</p> + +<p>The sheriff went home, very quiet indeed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>HOW HE WON A WIFE</h3> + + +<p>Three days passed, and they were much the same as before. Then, on a +sunshiny morning, the sheriff strolled back from the bar of the Fashion +to glance into the dining-room, minded to seek another interview. Hetty +was sitting by a window. Her face was red and streaked with tears. She +was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. He tiptoed out of the place.</p> + +<p>At dinner Lafe was very brusque and stated his wants with sharpness. +After the diners had departed: "It's a wonder"—pausing to strike a +match—"it's a wonder that there fine young feller of yours don't come +after you. Why don't you write to him?"</p> + +<p>"What fine fellow of mine?"</p> + +<p>"That stoodent feller. If he thought such a heap about you, he ought for +to show it. Ain't you written to him?"</p> + +<p>"Shut up," said Hetty.</p> + +<p>"No, but honest—"</p> + +<p>"Do you think I could write to him after going away without a word +to—to marry a man I'd never set eyes on? You make me sick."</p> + +<p>"I don't think much of him, anyhow," he said stubbornly.</p> + +<p>"I guess he'll be able to live that down," said Hetty.</p> + +<p>"Where does this here party live? A stoodent, you said he was?"</p> + +<p>"Sure"—using her handkerchief again. "He's studying at a dental school +in Chicago. Here's his address."</p> + +<p>The sheriff did not question her further, but eyed the card she +produced, for a long time. That afternoon he spent three sweating hours +over some sheets of blue, ruled paper, with very meager results. Here +they are:</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Mr. Abner Fish, Chicago, Ill.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>: I write to say there's a young lady here as seems to +be in need of friends from home leastways she's powerful lonely +now this here town ain't never had its teeth tended to right +chief reason they never wash them I guess. Ha ha.</p> + +<p>Say if you ain't laid out any plans better come ahead and start +right in here to fix them good. You can come all the way by +train except sixty miles by stage the going is good unless +Sellers happens to get drunk and runs his mules over the rocks +and I'll be pleased to meet you at the terminus, being as I am +sheriff I enclose eighty dollars for expenses which is sort of +coming to you from the town and you can pay it back when you +make it. Well I'll cut this out now it is very hot here.</p> + +<p>Yours respectfully,</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lafe Johnson.</span></p> + +<p>P. S. The lady's name it is Miss Hetty Ferrier.</p></blockquote> + +<p>The letter mailed, Johnson took horse and crossed the Border into +Sonora. He did not return for ten days and then went straight to his +house. The Fashion saw him not. He ate at the Cowboys' Rest, but Hetty +knew of his coming an hour after he rode down the street.</p> + +<p>When three meals had been served and eaten without Lafe appearing, she +put on her hat and went boldly to his house. It was afternoon, and +Badger lay in a still, dead torpor under a cruel sky.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Lafe, standing abashed on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"Abner Fish is coming," she announced, and that was all she could say.</p> + +<p>"Well, I swan. That's a right good thing. He can fix teeth pretty good, +can't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—no—that is—he says you sent for him. Oh, Lafe."</p> + +<p>This was a vastly different woman from the one he had known. Hetty would +not look at him, but kept her gaze timidly on a knot in the door and +twiddled a ribbon flaring garishly from her waist.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said the sheriff, "it's most time Badger done woke up. The +doggone rascals, they never take no care of their teeth. I've been +reading some about them things, Miss Ferrier, and it's most scandalous +how sick people'll get if they don't watch out for their teeth. This +book says—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lafe."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you don't want him to come?" he asked. His hand, +resting against the doorjamb, began to quiver and jerk.</p> + +<p>"No-oo."</p> + +<p>"God!"</p> + +<p>Hetty was beginning to weep, which was a ridiculous thing to do under +the circumstances. The proceedings subsequent to this wholly reverent +ejaculation of Lafe's were too utterly idiotic for sober recital. When +she had calmed, they stood behind the door, safely out of sight, and the +bosom and shoulder of the sheriff's shirt were moist.</p> + +<p>"No, I can't," Miss Ferrier was saying, in the weakest voice imaginable. +"Everybody knows what a fool I was to come out here to Jackson, and +they'll laugh at you. I couldn't bear that, Lafe."</p> + +<p>"Now, that'd be horrible, wouldn't it?" he said. Then, very quietly: "I +reckon I can take care of my wife, Hetty."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE GUNFIGHTER RETURNS AND DELAYS WEDDING</h3> + + +<p>They were to be married in a fortnight. Hetty's preparations were of the +simplest sort.</p> + +<p>"I'll fix my hair the way you like it," she said, laughing. "That's +about all I can do."</p> + +<p>On his part, Lafe wrote to the Floyds and obtained their promise to +come. Mrs. Floyd did not seem to resent this usurpation of the sheriff's +affection, which establishes her rarity beyond question. Then he ordered +some furniture. It was of an inexpensive kind, because he had saved +nothing and had only a month's pay owing to him. The sheriff would not +run into debt, having had a surfeit of its effects when a cowboy.</p> + +<p>Of course he went to call on Hetty every night at the Widow Brown's. +Occasionally he found opportunity to drop around during the day, too. +Hetty had resigned as waitress, and her admirers faded away, for it is +foolish to meddle with another man's girl, when that other is such an +one as Lafe Johnson. And ten or eleven days sped by.</p> + +<p>Then, about eight o'clock on an evening when the sheriff was talking to +Hetty on the Widow Brown's porch, Steve Moffatt ambled into town. He +dismounted quietly in front of the Fashion, walked across to the express +office and stuck a six-shooter under the agent's nose. That official +reasoned swiftly and decided to let him take what he could find. He was +not without pluck, but he was also a very sensible man. There was only +ninety dollars in the safe, and having soundly berated the agent on this +account, Moffatt put it in his pocket and rode out of Badger. He left +the agent bound to a chair and securely gagged.</p> + +<p>"Tell Lafe Johnson good-by for me," Moffatt said at departure. "Give him +and his girl my regards."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Lafe politely, when he received them.</p> + +<p>He saddled his horse and put a rifle in the holster. His .45 was always +at his hip, concealed in a leather-lined pocket.</p> + +<p>"I reckon we'll have to put the wedding off a few days, Hetty," he said, +as he bade her good-by. "I've got to leave on the jump. There's no +saying when I'll get back, either."</p> + +<p>It was nearly midnight and very dark. Hetty toyed with his horse's mane. +She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat.</p> + +<p>"All right," she said. "Take care of yourself, Lafe."</p> + +<p>The sheriff kissed her and set out. He entered Mexico and struck +southwest. No United States officer had a right to invade Mexican +territory for a criminal, nor to arrest him on Mexican soil, but Johnson +was determined to catch his man first and argue this legal phase of it +afterwards, with Steve safe in the calaboose at Badger. So he opened a +line gate unobserved and galloped through the soft night in pursuit of +Moffatt.</p> + +<p>The days sped by and Hetty received a wire from Lafe, who was now in +Cananea.</p> + +<p>"No luck," it ran. "He's doubled back on me. Hope to pick up trail +here."</p> + +<p>But what transpired in Cananea deserves a place to itself. Even now +Hetty does not like to hear any reference to the subject, and Lafe will +eye her uneasily if it be mentioned.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>JOHNSON MEETS A FRIEND OF HETTY'S</h3> + + +<p>Should a man clutch at an imaginary wire that eludes him up the wall +beside his bed, and take to raving and prayer, it raises a doubt as to +recent conduct and habits. Hughie MacFarlane, rancher, age thirty-seven +years, did all this and many other disagreeable things, and then died.</p> + +<p>A considerable number of his acquaintances wagged their heads and +remarked that the world would survive the loss—it was noticeable that +those who had partaken most freely of Hughie's bounty were foremost in +this line of epitaph. Others declaimed the platitude of the +mealy-mouthed, that MacFarlane had been a big-hearted fellow, his own +worst enemy. Within a week after the funeral, nobody in Cananea thought +much about him one way or the other, and certain lapses in his notions +of enjoyment were forgotten, for where there is no jury of public +opinion, men grow tolerant of human frailty, and then lax. That is our +way on the Border.</p> + +<p>So everybody promptly forgot Hughie—all except a flame-headed girl at +the Hotel Carmen, who sniffed a great deal when she leaned over your +shoulder to put the steak and vegetables on the table, and whose voice +was wet when she inquired whether you preferred your eggs straight up or +over. She was not one to tempt a man to boldness, and none had ever +found her desirable; but once, on his way from the bar to the +dining-room, Hughie had given her a rough, laughing embrace. That was +all, on my honor; but Molly remembered and worshiped the unregenerate +creature, according to her nature. Finally she became such a nuisance, +with her red eyes and general dampness of face, that the proprietor +discharged Molly.</p> + +<p>"Hughie was a fine feller when he first came here," Lafe Johnson +remarked, in reference to this episode, "but he got to talking Mexican +too good."</p> + +<p>With which dark assertion he reared his feet to the rail of the Hotel +Carmen veranda and lazily watched the hacks careen past down the hill. +Three weeks had elapsed since he started on the bandit's trail and he +was apparently farther behind him than on the night Moffatt fled. After +two days of close pursuit, during which Moffatt had twice doubled back, +the sheriff had been able to obtain nothing better than rumors. These he +followed up obstinately, and at last they led him to Cananea, where he +rested, awaiting developments.</p> + +<p>It was Sunday, and the cabs were doing a rushing business. Gentlemen of +white skin, gentlemen of olive and brown, crowded into them and departed +with an air of elation. Presently two cabs moved by at a parade pace. +Both were loaded to the axles with bull-fighters in tawdry velvet +trappings. The matador, a person who perspired like a pat of butter on a +warm day, doffed his hat unceasingly to admiring friends on the +sidewalk. It was very hot and the time was noon.</p> + +<p>"I hope that fat one gets horned," said Johnson, comfortably, to his +neighbor. "What? You going to the fight? I can't stand to see them ol' +hosses ripped. Say, it beats me how white women can go there and sit +through it. They chew gum all over the grand stand, too, them women do. +If my girl—if I had a woman—"</p> + +<p>Incoming guests cut Mr. Johnson off. They arrived off the 10.10 +train—two drummers, and a lank individual, very tanned, and stiff in +his clothes, who proved to be a mining engineer about to start on a +prospecting trip, and a woman. She was plump and had brown hair, and her +dress was of deepest mourning. That much Lafe noted as she stepped from +the cab, and he took his feet down and removed the cigar from his mouth. +She rustled up the steps and hurried inside without bestowing more than +a flurried glance on the loungers.</p> + +<p>Johnson was still resting there an hour later, meditating, when the +landlord came out and held the screen open with a fine show of courtesy.</p> + +<p>"Say, Lafe, I want you to shake hands with Mrs. MacFarlane," said the +Hotel Carmen man. "This here lady's Hughie's wife. She wants to go out +to the ranch. Mr. Johnson's sheriff of Badger, ma'am. It's like you've +heard of him."</p> + +<p>"I'll be right glad to look after you, ma'am," Johnson said soberly, +shoving his chair forward.</p> + +<p>Mrs. MacFarlane smiled in a manner curiously shy for a widow of thirty, +and murmured something to the effect that she knew Mr. Johnson had been +a friend of her Hugh's. This was not strictly true, but Lafe would not +have denied it to her for a herd of graded stuff. He leaned against the +railing and waited patiently to learn her wishes. She had come to claim +Hughie's estate and to make certain that his—grave—here she started to +cry soundlessly into a handkerchief—received proper care. All this was +very painful and Johnson stirred restlessly. Whenever Mrs. MacFarlane +made reference to her late husband, it was always as her "boy," and the +tone was one of such restrained adoration that Lafe experienced a +sinking feeling beneath his vest. Listening to her—she was decently +reserved and her talk escaped in snatches—he gathered that Hughie had +been a great and noble man, which was an estimate of Hughie that never +would have occurred to any of his acquaintances.</p> + +<p>"The feller must have had a heap of good in him somewhere, Buf'lo," he +told Shortredge that night. Jim was now engaged in the slaughtering +business in Cananea. "A man can't make a woman like her care that a-way +else."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that, Lafe. I don't know about that. I ain't so +shore," said his friend. "It's most amazing how they kin forget +everything when he's gone. They only remember li'l' things he done for +'em; things what a feller might do for a yallow dawg."</p> + +<p>The trip across the mountains was a full day's drive, and Johnson was to +call for Mrs. MacFarlane at dawn with a buckboard and a mule team. She +kept him waiting forty minutes, but he passed the time patiently, +recalling that a certain female in Badger was wont to do the same thing. +This recollection brought a grin to his countenance, and may have been +responsible for the solicitous manner with which he seated Mrs. +MacFarlane in the vehicle. They set out at the sober gait suited to a +wearing drive. The landlord, after watching them for a while, remarked +thoughtfully to the barkeeper that he hoped they would find everything +all right.</p> + +<p>"Hughie ought for to have told us he was married," he said slowly. "Yes. +He ought. I sure hope they'll find everything all right. She's an +almighty fine woman."</p> + +<p>The almighty fine woman settled back against the stiff leather seat and +looked at the bleak wastes they were threading. Johnson eased his mules +down the slopes, taking rare heed of the going. Ordinarily she would +have been in terror of the perils of this climb-and-drop road, but the +driver appeared to entertain no doubts and merely clucked at the +hybrids or abused them in emotionless harangues. It must have begotten +confidence, for she gave no more than the tiniest squeak when they shot +abruptly from a shelf of rock and sped downward at a gallop, the +buckboard leaping off rocks and ruts and banging at the mules' legs. +There was a sharp curve at the bottom of the descent, and for a wild +moment Mrs. MacFarlane wondered if it were possible he perceived this.</p> + +<p>"The brake's done bust," said Lafe, as though the matter were scarcely +worth mention.</p> + +<p>They took the curve on two wheels, sending sand and pebbles in all +directions, and he pulled the team to a halt. Then he got out, handing +the reins to her, for which she beamed on him. Johnson repaired the +brakes with a bit of wood and some rope, and they went forward again.</p> + +<p>"I done told ol' Biggerstaff that this brake was no good," he said.</p> + +<p>"I'd mention it to him again," Mrs. MacFarlane suggested mildly.</p> + +<p>He was very grateful, too, because she forbore to grab at the reins more +than once in dangerous spots. The sparkling air and the stern beauty of +the mountain country they entered seemed to soothe her. Soon she was +chatting vivaciously, but when the sun climbed to his strength, her lids +drooped. The talk became broken and lazily intimate. Suddenly Mrs. +MacFarlane sat up with a gasp.</p> + +<p>"Why, I've just remembered. How on earth did I ever forget it? Hetty +Ferrier!"</p> + +<p>The widow pronounced Hetty's name as a magician would a talisman. Lafe +went very red in the face and asked in a constrained voice whether she +knew that lady.</p> + +<p>"Know her? I guess I do. Why, Hetty and my young sister were playmates. +She used to live where I come from. We heard from her and she told us—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. MacFarlane did not state what Hetty had told them, but settled +herself to study Lafe, with the privileged frankness conferred by her +information. He bore the scrutiny well, giving all his attention to the +mules, but he was thankful for the bumps that distracted the widow and +made her clutch his elbow to avoid being thrown out.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it funny I shouldn't have thought about you and her before? It's +a small world, isn't it? Of course she told me you were sheriff of +Badger. You're a very lucky man, Mr. Johnson," she said.</p> + +<p>Lafe could find no words for the moment. At last: "You see, ma'am, her +and me are fixing to get married."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said the widow. "Did you think I didn't know that? How is Hetty?"</p> + +<p>"She's fine, thanks."</p> + +<p>"I don't need to ask if she's happy?"</p> + +<p>"Happy as the dealer in a big jackpot," said the sheriff, much pleased. +The widow appeared to comprehend.</p> + +<p>They drew near the ranch in late afternoon. The light is of a peculiar, +velvety yellow then, and the mountains grow purple along their bases; +farther up there are deep blue blurs; and the ragged rims show black +against a glow. The widow exclaimed in rapture; then, apparently +remembering her bereavement, assumed a look of sadness; and she made the +last few miles of the journey in a gentle melancholy.</p> + +<p>Nobody appeared to welcome them. A tipsy Mexican lolled in a chair on +the veranda, and another was making music for him on a guitar. From time +to time the man in the rocker would nod approval and command a fresh +tune. Near the corrals, about twenty natives were hi-yi-ing at the +breaking of a horse.</p> + +<p>When the majordomo perceived the buckboard, he put down his cup +reluctantly, placed the bottle beside the leg of the chair and came to +meet them. Lafe saw at once that a fortnight of authority and freedom +from restraint had played havoc with the man. Nevertheless, he greeted +them suavely, and when he learned who the passenger was, cried an order +over his shoulder. Three or four men ran to take the mules.</p> + +<p>"Aren't there any whites on the place?" asked Mrs. MacFarlane uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Hughie, he done fired them all. Pete Harris used to be boss here, but +him and Hughie had words over something, and Pete got his time."</p> + +<p>Johnson did not consider it necessary to add that the veteran Pete's +antipathy to all-native labor had been responsible for this rupture with +MacFarlane, and that the vaquero playing the guitar still held his job, +although Pete had incontinently discharged him months before. Nor did he +mention that the man with the guitar had a sister. As to that, he had +heard nothing but rumors, and he was never inclined to believe half of +what he heard.</p> + +<p>Hughie's old servant, Salazar, waited on the two at supper. He had a +shrewd notion that Lafe was the lady's admirer, with an eye to the +property; but what booted it? All through the meal he watched Mrs. +MacFarlane stolidly and addressed her as "Seņorita," which was a brainy +proceeding. However, he told Paula in the kitchen that she was Hughie's +wife and a ravishingly beautiful woman. The girl received the +intelligence with somber calm.</p> + +<p>Twice she came out on to the veranda where they sat afterwards—once to +fill the water bag; again, to draw from it. Mrs. MacFarlane asked who +she was, her age, and where her mother was. She obtained evasive +answers, but was too abstracted to give thought to what might have +troubled her at any other time.</p> + +<p>"She's so pretty—so awfully pretty. Are they all as beautiful as that?"</p> + +<p>"No-oo. I should say not. Paula, she's got most of 'em hiding out in +the long grass," said Lafe, without enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>There is a quality about a southwest night that saddens, or elevates +above all petty trouble, according to temperament and conditions of +health. Moreover, it can make everyday worries seem trivial, which +surely is a God-given thing. As the languid dust thickened, Mrs. +MacFarlane grew depressed. The silence became longer and her replies +punctilious. Soon she bade him good-night. The drive had made her very +sleepy, she said. Johnson started down to the Mexican quarters. A dance +was in progress there, and it was impossible to say to what lengths the +revelers might go unless convinced that authority slept under +headquarters' roof.</p> + +<p>As he stepped down, he became aware that someone leaned against a +shade-tree in the yard. It was Paula, and she was watching Mrs. +MacFarlane's lighted window.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>A SACRIFICE AND ITS PUNISHMENT</h3> + + +<p>Salazar was not on hand at breakfast, having contracted a sickness in +the head during a dispute at the ball. Paula brought in the dishes. She +fixed her solemn, round eyes on Mrs. MacFarlane and Johnson could read a +questioning in their limpid steadiness. Once she spoke sharply. He gave +a curt answer and appeared perturbed.</p> + +<p>"What does she want?" asked Hughie's widow.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, ma'am. It ain't anything."</p> + +<p>"She looks angry," Mrs. MacFarlane persisted.</p> + +<p>"No-oo. She says the toast is burned. That's all."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense. The toast's delicious," said the widow.</p> + +<p>They went on with the meal. Hanging above the sideboard was a portrait +of Hughie. It was a wretched thing in crayon, framed in wide gilt of +sumptuous design, but the drawing had been a gift to MacFarlane from a +friend in the cow business, and accordingly he had allotted it a place +of honor. The widow saw this at breakfast for the first time. Hughie's +face wore a simper, but the likeness must have recalled him in tender +moods, for two large tears gathered on her cheeks and slid slowly +downward.</p> + +<p>Paula, entering with fried eggs, noted the direction of her gaze and +saw, also, the tears splash on the widow's plate. Mrs. MacFarlane was +extracting a handkerchief from her sleeve and she smiled wanly at the +girl to intimate that the matter of the toast really did not weigh in +the least. It was kindly meant, but Paula failed altogether to +understand. She dropped the platter and began to jabber. It is of no +importance what she said. At her first words Johnson jumped up, but she +pushed him back into his seat and cried names at Hughie's widow it was +lucky that good lady knew not the meaning of. She crooked her fingers +under Mrs. MacFarlane's nose, and when the widow tried, in her +astonishment and indignation, to rise from the table, Paula seized a +plate. Lafe pinned her arms. There was a tremendous to-do for a few +minutes, with Paula shrilling and tugging.</p> + +<p>After the first shock, the widow regarded the girl's struggles without +apprehension. Lafe contrived to drag Paula from the room. In the +kitchen, her access of rage evaporated swiftly, and she sobbed, her face +buried in her arms against the wall. Johnson returned, panting.</p> + +<p>"Now," Mrs. MacFarlane said steadily, "I want to know what this means."</p> + +<p>This was natural enough, and Lafe had been thinking faster than he had +ever thought in his life. He began an elaborate dissertation on +standards along the Border—how different they were to those back east. +It was in his mind to persuade the widow that men were apt to depart +from the charted paths when removed from the compelling force of an +established moral sentiment. That would give him a chance to lead up to +Hughie's backsliding by easy stages.</p> + +<p>Such was his plan. It might have worked smoothly with any other woman, +or done by a man of readier wit. But as he looked into Mrs. MacFarlane's +face, the affair assumed a different aspect to Lafe. He could not tear +down the image of Hughie she had builded and kneeled to during eleven +years. There came a tremor in his voice and his speech trailed off into +weak incoherencies. He paused, braced himself and started again.</p> + +<p>"That's better," said Mrs. MacFarlane, very white, and deadly quiet. +"That sounds more manly."</p> + +<p>Once squared away to his task, Johnson did it well. He showed an amazing +aptitude for lying. Looking the outraged widow straight in the eye, he +lied—lied gloriously—so that, as she heard him, Mrs. MacFarlane +gradually shrank back. She appeared to expand and grow taller in her +contempt—to Lafe she seemed to fill the room—but when he deftly added +a picturesque touch about Paula deluding herself with the suspicion that +Mrs. MacFarlane and himself were much too friendly—he told her this +with a savage zest—the widow exclaimed, "The very idea! Oh, the +creature!"</p> + +<p>"And you were Hughie's friend?" she remarked when he had ended. Of +course, that was the monstrous side of this affair.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, ma'am, him and me—"</p> + +<p>"And Hetty Ferrier!"</p> + +<p>Now, Lafe had forgotten Hetty in all this. Had Mrs. MacFarlane been a +wiser woman, she might have read a different story from his eyes in that +instant.</p> + +<p>"It's my duty to tell her, Mr. Johnson," Mrs. MacFarlane went on, +sustained by that sense of moral obligation which overtakes us all in +dealing with our friends' private affairs.</p> + +<p>"It ain't right, ma'am," said Lafe. "It ain't proper that a girl should +hear such things."</p> + +<p>"Ho, indeed!" the widow sniffed. "It isn't, hey? We'll see about that. I +suppose Hetty's a baby? And let a sweet girl like her marry a man like +you?"</p> + +<p>"You aim to tell her, Miz MacFarlane?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly shall."</p> + +<p>"Wait. Hold on a minute," he begged.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing you can say, Mr. Johnson. I won't listen. Good-by. It +won't be necessary for you to drive me back. I will get Salazar. No, I +don't want to hear anything more. I won't listen. I've heard too much +already. That will do, please. Let me by."</p> + +<p>She swept past him as though marching on a citadel, and Johnson +withdrew, limp and wretched. Indeed, he looked and felt, at the moment, +the thing Mrs. MacFarlane thought he was. There obtains a notion that an +innocent man's innocence will shine from his face like the sun breaking +through clouds. It is a comfortable thought. The facts, however, are +that he is very likely to show much bewilderment under sudden +accusation, whereas the hardy scoundrel will summon up the most +blighting wrath when brought face to face with his misdoings.</p> + +<p>Hughie's widow retired to her room, where, with a photograph of Hughie +on the table in front of her, she had a long cry. Then she sat down and +wrote to Hetty Ferrier, lest she be swerved from her high purpose by +subsequent happenings, or neglect it through bad memory. Salazar +received orders to hitch the team to take her back to town, and the +majordomo promised that Paula would be sent back to her mother, who +lived on the far side of Tepitate. Her conscience serene, Mrs. +MacFarlane gave the majordomo some money for the girl, which the +majordomo pocketed against a holiday in the city. As he intended to +marry Paula some day, it may be that he regarded this as dowry and +consequently his own. Then the widow drove back to the Hotel Carmen, and +a week later boarded the train for the homeward journey.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>BUFFALO JIM GIVES WISE COUNSEL</h3> + + +<p>Johnson departed the ranch like a sneak-thief, keeping well off the +trail for fear he should be overtaken by Mrs. MacFarlane and further +humiliated by a blank stare. He wanted to take counsel of Buffalo Jim, +who now lived in Cananea, as I have said, among drying hides and the +fresh carcasses of steers. If you follow a road out of this city—the +wood haulers use it, for the most part, with their laden burros—you +will descend a mesa by wide sweeps and run slap against a slaughter +house. There are corrals and stables also, and a thousand carrion crows +will acknowledge your coming by a reluctant lifting of wings. Here +Lafe's friend resided and slew thirty head daily for beef. Perhaps his +occupation contributed to the study of human problems—killing things is +a serious business—at any rate, Buffalo really knew all that a man may +know in this life.</p> + +<p>He took an extremely pessimistic view of Johnson's prospects. Of course, +the girl would believe Mrs. MacFarlane. That was only natural. A woman +might stick to a man through every crime in the calendar against his +fellow men, and still hold faith in him; but when another woman entered +into the plot, it was time for a new deal; he was as good as done for, +then. Thus spake Buffalo Jim. He advised Lafe, however, to write Hetty +without delay. By so doing, he might forestall the widow and prepare the +young lady.</p> + +<p>"It'll sort of give the widow woman your dust," he explained, "and then +she's liable to make a bad throw."</p> + +<p>Accordingly, Johnson went to the Hotel Carmen and sat himself down at a +desk in a corner. He chose some neatly ruled paper and dipped the pen; +everything in due order. After that he coughed and consumed some minutes +in staring fixedly at the blank sheets. He had no heart for this task. +Resolute in all the crises of his man's life, this was beyond him.</p> + +<p>Then he began to write, the pen scratching and sputtering over the page. +The sentences opened with firmness and precision, but gradually slanted +towards the lower corner. First his spurs bothered him, and he took them +off. Next, his neckerchief became sticky and he untied it and left his +shirt collar open.</p> + +<p>"If you keep a-writing much more, Lafe, you'll be naked," said the +landlord critically.</p> + +<p>Some cowboys passed through and invited Johnson to join them, but he +shook them off. At last it was finished.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Dear Friend:</i></p> + +<p>How are you?</p> + +<p>I am sitting in a room it is a big room and a lot of loafers +keep coming and going but genrally coming.</p> + +<p>This is to say I am well and doing fine I hope you are well +and doing fine. Say a lady met up with me here a few days ago +who said she knew you ain't that a hot one to spring on me +sudden. She is a right nice lady though she don't care a heap +what I think I reckon she as good as toald me I was a bad egg. +Perhaps I am a bad egg how about it.</p> + +<p>She said she was going to write to you. I done the best that I +could and it don't seem fair it ain't right that you should +hear what she said she was going to write to you and besides it +was all a stall and wasn't true but you musn't tell that to +Mrs. MacFarlane because it would make her feel bad. Hughie he +was a friend of mine but Hughie wasn't of no account in some +ways for he spoke Mex too good now when a man gets that twist +on his r's and begins to hang around with the natives its time +to take a new hand all round because he ain't satisfied with +his color no more. No sirree it don't do to talk the lingo to +good and I make them speak my language which will improve their +morals if they only had some to improve that was what ailed +Hughie but she must not know and so you be careful. I hope I +have made it all clear.</p> + +<p>The heat is fierce to-day I am going to take a little drink +when this is finished I don't take them often only a few with +Buffalo Jim and some of the boys. Do you remember the call down +you done give me about that. Ha ha that was sure a dandy.</p> + +<p>How is it back there in Badger Old Lee is there likely ain't +he. Give him my regards the Widow Brown must be there too give +her my regards. Fred Hall and I used to be thicker than thieves +give him my regards. Say tell him to smoke up and let out a +roar of some kind.</p> + +<p>There is not much round here to tell you about Cal and Tim +tangled and Tim is under doc's care he's pretty sore. I done +told you about them before. Jerry's wife done run off and Jerry +is scared to death she'll come back but perhaps she wont. I +told him to hope for the best because he cant do nothing more +than that.</p> + +<p>Say you'll think I'm trying for to write you a book but I +wanted to get this thing about Mrs. Mac straight so you'd +understand. There's a lot a feller would like to say that he +don't like to say you know how that is and a lot of loafers +hanging round trying to guy you. But a feller thinks a lot +sometimes.</p> + +<p>Cattle in good shape and prices right but we need rain bad. I +got to go south to find Steve Moffatt right soon perhaps he +ain't where I think he is but will take a chance.</p> + +<p>Well you must have laid down for a sleep by this time and +wonder when I'm going to cut this out I have written so much. +Don't you pay no attention to what Mrs. MacFarlane says though +she is a right nice lady and I ain't got no hard feelings one +way or the other. Well its about time I quit this well +good-bye. I'd like mighty well to hear how you are. I'll bet +you're looking fine.</p> + +<p>Yours truly,</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lafe Johnson.</span></p></blockquote> + +<p>Lafe was master of a loose and flowing hand, which had served him +faithfully on cattle tallies—he was not called upon to make written +reports as sheriff—but made a bulky letter. He dropped this missive, +with many misgivings, into a box, and then took horse for the south. We +will not follow him, because ten days of fourteen hours in the saddle +and a steady diet of beans and tortillas and coffee will grow monotonous +to a refined taste. Moreover, tracking down a thief cannot be of any +interest to us of larger effort.</p> + +<p>In good time the sheriff returned, but of Moffatt he had found no trace. +Immediately upon arrival, he inquired at the telegraph office for +messages, expecting that Haverty would have wired him further +information from Badger. The man behind the counter listened with a +far-away expression and then assured him sadly that there was nothing. +Lafe went away in doubt and returned next morning, insisting that the +telegrapher had made a mistake; a letter received from Haverty spoke of +a wire sent the day of his departure. The official shrugged his +shoulders at this display of bull-headed persistence, so typically +American, and asked him once again for his name. Then, still pensive, he +thumbed over a pile of flimsy.</p> + +<p>"Johnsing, you said?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. Johnson. That's me. I done told you that a thousand times."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes. Here are two," said the telegrapher, and very deliberately he +smoothed out the messages and delivered them.</p> + +<p>The first dealt with dates of Moffatt's appearances on the Border, so +far as Haverty had been able to learn them. They were nothing but +unconfirmed rumors, and Lafe skimmed over it. The other was unsigned and +he read it several times, the copper hue of his face deepening.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Don't worry. Nobody can lie to me about you."</p></blockquote> + +<p>He thrust this message into his shirt pocket and forgot all about the +reproof he had rehearsed for the telegrapher's benefit. Very jauntily he +exhibited the slip to Buffalo Jim at the slaughter house. That worthy +butcher eyed it gravely, and grunted.</p> + +<p>"She's a daisy," he said, after mature consideration, vaguely aware that +Lafe expected him to say something appropriate.</p> + +<p>"You're damn whistlin'," said Lafe. "What'd I tell you, Buf'lo? She'd +never believe nothing against me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, she's a daisy," Buffalo repeated. "It's like she just tore +up that widow woman's letter and was as sarcastic as hell."</p> + +<p>As Jim said this, he winked at one of the wagon horses. Then he went +leisurely to work again on a piece of harness he was patching.</p> + +<p>"All the same, Lafe," he admonished, "you'd better figure on her +throwing that up to you again. The woman never breathed that wouldn't. +Hey? You mark my words—the first row you have, Hetty'll hand you one +about Paula, first crack out of the box."</p> + +<p>"You don't know her."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," said Buffalo Jim, "but I've knowed a heap of others."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>THE SHERIFF PURGES TOWN OF BADGER</h3> + + +<p>The sheriff, rather crestfallen, was obliged to return to Badger without +Moffatt. Having lost all trace of him, he was suspicious that the +gunfighter would strike unexpectedly from another direction; perhaps in +Badger itself, relying on Johnson's absence. His acquaintance with +Moffatt had been short, but sufficient to persuade Lafe that he was most +to be feared when nobody knew his whereabouts.</p> + +<p>Arrived in town and refreshed, Lafe went straight to Dutch Annie. Nobody +in the community was especially predisposed toward Moffatt except a few +hangers-on at the Fashion who had enjoyed his largess, and a lady known +as Picnic Kate. Picnic Kate lived with Dutch Annie. Her name suffices to +describe her, and as persons who have no nice friends are unworthy our +consideration, I will let her case rest there. However, the sheriff had +a shrewd notion that if anybody knew, or was apt to learn, anything +concerning Moffatt, Picnic was the individual.</p> + +<p>"I ain't saw him since him and you had that run-in up at the Fashion," +said Kate.</p> + +<p>The sheriff was convinced she was lying, but merely nodded.</p> + +<p>Hetty welcomed him back with some shyness. It puzzled Johnson until he +recalled the date, and then he looked troubled.</p> + +<p>"Hetty," said he, "we've got to put off the wedding again. We can't be +married yet."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>The sheriff gave a short laugh. "I don't want you a widow as soon as +you're a wife."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Lafe? What do you talk that way for? A widow?"</p> + +<p>"Moffatt's somewhere around here, I'll swear," said the sheriff. "Jeff +Thomas sent me a letter to-day—here, look. He says Steve swears he'll +get me."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>They were standing in the front room of the Widow Brown's. Lafe sat down +and tried to talk naturally, preferring not to take cognizance of the +probing of Hetty's eyes.</p> + +<p>"You see, hon, Steve is the last of the ol' tough bunch. I'll get him. +It'll only take a few days—something's sure to break right away—don't +look so scared, hon—we'll be married in a month, I bet you."</p> + +<p>Hetty looked down at him like a queen of tragedy in a ten-twenty-thirty +tent show performance. She said slowly: "No, we won't. I've got a +feeling we won't ever be married."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said Johnson. "Don't talk like that."</p> + +<p>"But I feel like that."</p> + +<p>"Women always get ideas like that of yours in their heads. If somebody +looks cross at a feller, they can see a funeral with all his friends +sending Gates Ajar wreaths. No, ma'am. I ain't ready for mine yet +awhile."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you throw it all up?" she asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>"You mean my job? Resign? Quit being sheriff?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. Oh, you're bound to get killed some day. And for heaven's +sake, what is there in it? If things go right—well, that's what they're +supposed to do, anyhow. But if things go wrong, you get blamed." Hetty +spun around to the window when she saw Lafe's expression of amazement. +She gazed out at the ugly, huddled nakedness of Badger, and there was +loathing in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"The place ain't fit for a human to live in."</p> + +<p>"You won't have to stay here long, hon," the sheriff reminded her.</p> + +<p>"But anything's apt to happen before that. We've put it off twice +already."</p> + +<p>"Once," Lafe corrected.</p> + +<p>He rose and stood before her. She kept her face averted, but did not +withdraw her hand when he took it. At last he said: "You'd have me quit? +You'd have me back down when they—all these here people—done put me in +just because they thought I was the best man to clean up this here +place? I don't believe it. Not for a minute, Hetty. It ain't like you."</p> + +<p>"Gunmen aren't the only toughs in this town," she said darkly.</p> + +<p>"I don't take you, ma'am. Oh, you mean—them?" He pointed to the +outskirts of Badger, to the red, tinned roof of Dutch Annie's abode.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," said Hetty, flushing.</p> + +<p>The subject was dropped for the time and they fell to discussing +furniture for the house in Hope Caņon. Then, as he bade her good-night, +Lafe remarked in a casual voice, as though the step were routine: "I'll +do that, too."</p> + +<p>"Do what?"</p> + +<p>"Clear out that crowd. There'll be an awful howl all around town, but +I'll do it."</p> + +<p>He had gone a hundred yards when she called him back.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lafe."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked, returning.</p> + +<p>"That poor creature—Sarah—you remember Jackson?"</p> + +<p>"I thought we agreed not to say nothing about that feller."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but—well, I might—you'll look after her, won't you, Lafe?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. They'll be all right. Don't you worry. Good-night."</p> + +<p>He was very serious as he took his way homeward. What he planned to do +amounted to a moral revolution in Badger, and there would assuredly be +an outcry and a tremendous to-do. True, the town had been purged before. +Once, in the hottest of the hot weather, driven to frenzy by Brother +Ducey's exhortations—he was a genius in choosing the purgatorial months +for his vivid pictures of a living hell—a crowd of citizens had rushed +from the meeting, and, surging across the sand-flats to the +establishment of Dutch Annie's predecessor, had ousted the merry sisters +in the dark of the night. But, as is usual in such cases, reaction from +their zeal was swift and far-reaching. Dutch Annie came and flourished; +and when the citizens of Badger elected Johnson sheriff, no mention of +this cancer in the body social was made in the program of reform.</p> + +<p>Lafe now reflected on these things from a new view-point. His conclusion +was: "It ain't decent. Hetty's got the rights of this, I reckon."</p> + +<p>To many aspects of their Border life, he had given scant thought. Where +much that ought to be viewed with horror is tolerated as an established +factor in communal life by law-abiding people, a man tends to become +complaisant of laxity. Many evils existing in Badger had never struck +the sheriff as such, simply because they had always been; but he was +learning. Little glimpses of Hetty's healthy outlook on things shook his +own code of conduct to its spine and filled him with a species of awe.</p> + +<p>"Let 'em roar," he said firmly. "It'll be a mighty fine wedding present +for her. Besides, it'll make Steve wild."</p> + +<p>The sheriff was an execrable politician, else he would have proceeded +differently. Had he possessed the sagacity of a ward leader, how he +would have corralled the reform vote by going at his task with beating +of drums and a fanfare of announcements. Lafe took quite another method. +He paid a call, in a spirit approaching friendliness, and after some +vehement protests, he departed with a promise extracted.</p> + +<p>Dutch Annie was as good as her word. Next day a little company of +pilgrims boarded the stage, bound for the railway. They looked sadly +worn in the glare of sunlight, in spite of extravagant efforts with the +rouge pot and the powder rag, but they put a brave face on the situation +and exchanged badinage with a few choice spirits gathered to witness the +departure.</p> + +<p>"Well, so long, Lafe," said Dutch Annie, who was a just woman, according +to her lights. "It was right mean, but I reckon you had to do it. And +you've acted the gen'l'man, which is more'n I can say for a lot of +loafers in this here town."</p> + +<p>Sellers cracked his long whip, the mules lurched against their collars +and the stage rattled away. This was the last that Badger ever saw of +Dutch Annie.</p> + +<p>So quietly had the feat been accomplished that the town really did not +awake to the fact until they had gone. Then criticism broke out.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you'd call it the right thing, looked at in a large way, +Lafe," ventured the landlord of the Cowboys' Rest in mild protest. "It's +more religious, in course. But you'd ought to have thunk of some of the +boys."</p> + +<p>Others assumed a violent tone, but these excoriations were delivered +where the sheriff did not hear them. Consequently they hurt neither him +nor those who made them. They held that he had exceeded his duties and +powers; his job was to do what was bidden in the by-laws to preserve +order, not to regulate the private morals of everybody in the town. Man +alive, first thing one knew, Johnson would be breaking up card play, and +it wouldn't be safe for a man to shake dice with a barkeep for the +drinks. Jake Taylor, who had once been a miner, and who had now joined +the leisure classes through inclination rather than fortune, talked +freely of the referendum and recall.</p> + +<p>The sheriff was fully aware of what was being said. Yet it gave him a +new sense of power to feel, also, back of his act, the support of the +better element. They arrayed themselves with him unostentatiously, for +fear of ruptures that might work harm to business. Nevertheless, he knew +their support could be counted on. Indeed, Turner and other substantial +men of the place hastened to assure the sheriff that he had done a brave +thing. Not a word of it did he breathe to Hetty, but when he called for +her to go walking the following night, she was waiting for him at the +gate, and when Johnson saw her smile of understanding and confidence, he +knew he would not repent, whatever might befall.</p> + +<p>"No news of Steve yet," he told her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lafe, do be careful. They tell such dreadful things about him. Mrs. +Brown says he could hit a two-bit piece at a hundred yards."</p> + +<p>"Don't. Let's be cheerful," said the sheriff, and laughed. "It'll only +be a few days, hon. I'll get him all right."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Hetty, with a sigh of content, clinging to his arm, +"there's one comfort. If anything ever did happen to you, I'd know it, +if you were in Jericho."</p> + +<p>"How?" he asked, much diverted.</p> + +<p>"Why, you booby, I could feel it. Isn't it strange, Lafe? I feel as if +we'd known each other all our lives. We must have been made for each +other."</p> + +<p>"That's right queer," said the sheriff solemnly. "I often get that +feeling myself."</p> + +<p>As I have a suspicion that other loving young people have talked like +this before, enough of it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>A FIGHT IN THE DARK</h3> + + +<p>As Lafe was coming from dinner at the Fashion annex next noon, a Mexican +handed him a letter. It was undated and without beginning.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus3" id="illus3"></a> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"As Lafe was coming from dinner ... a Mexican handed him +a letter."</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<blockquote><p>Steve's sore. Look out for him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Annie.</span></p></blockquote> + +<p>The sheriff had received so many warnings in his time that he had grown +callous and seldom attached any significance to them, but he knew that +Dutch Annie was not given to foolish alarm. So he tore her note into +minute particles and saw to the oiling of his six-shooter. That was the +only preparation against trouble that Johnson was wont to make.</p> + +<p>The sheriff's two-roomed frame shack was somewhat removed from its +neighbors. It was a full half mile from the Widow's house, where Hetty +lodged. His housekeeping had a fine touch of simplicity. If all things +were favorable, and he had nothing else to do, Lafe would make the bed +once in a while. To do him justice, he had been known to sweep the +place, also. That was not a particularly arduous task, because the +furniture consisted of the bed aforesaid, one chair, one table with +three legs, which stood propped against the wall, and a packing case for +a washstand.</p> + +<p>About seven o'clock that evening he led a spare horse to the Widow's +house and took Hetty for a ride. They talked of the future—soberly, +almost as a staid married couple. She never indulged in coquetry, and +their courtship had not been of the kind to make jealousy of others +expedient or a desirable weapon for her use. After she had dismounted at +the gate:</p> + +<p>"I wish you weren't going. I'm sort of nervous to-night."</p> + +<p>The sheriff smiled down at her. "I reckon you'd best get a glass case to +keep me in, hon."</p> + +<p>"I know it's silly—but you'll be awful careful, won't you, Lafe?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," he said. "There ain't a native in ten counties that likes +getting hurt less'n I do."</p> + +<p>He put the horses up and repaired to the Fashion, for he had it in mind +to ascertain the latest gossip of Moffatt. It was not to be supposed +that a man of the outlaw's temper would take the expulsion of Picnic +Kate from Badger in a spirit of decorous humility.</p> + +<p>The proprietor had it on excellent authority that Steve was far down on +the Baccanochi range, endeavoring to cheat the natives out of a herd of +stock cattle. The sheriff stood at the bar and conversed for a space.</p> + +<p>"You got a new gun, Lafe?" asked the Fashion man, pointing to his belt.</p> + +<p>"No-oo. Just been cleaning this up some."</p> + +<p>The other held out a languid hand and Johnson passed him the gun. It was +a workmanlike .45 Colt, single action, and the hammer rested on an empty +chamber for safety. The Fashion proprietor turned it over with the ease +and appreciation of an expert. He pulled back the hammer and twirled the +chambers.</p> + +<p>"She's a beaut," said he.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's a right good gun," Lafe agreed. He received it back +carelessly, and slipped it into the holster. They chatted indifferently +for a moment, and Lafe drank a nightcap and started home.</p> + +<p>The night was thick and sticky. Back of the mountains thunder was +muttering. The air clung about him like a soft blanket. Some bull-bats +wheeled above his head. Lafe glanced at the dirty sky and wondered +whether those hurrying wracks of clouds would shed rain. They had a +pitiless habit of holding out hope, only to blow over, leaving the +country gasping.</p> + +<p>His door was shut. It struck him as odd, because he never locked his +house, having nothing of value to safeguard. Inside, it was so black +that the darkness seemed to rise up and buffet him in the face. He +crossed the empty outer room and felt his way to the table against the +far wall. On it stood always an empty bottle, a candle crammed into the +neck. This was the sheriff's light system.</p> + +<p>His hands groped over the rough surface, but he could not find the +candle, nor the matches usually piled close beside. He fumbled in his +pocket—nothing there but some keys and loose silver.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" he muttered. "Well, it don't matter. I can undress in the +dark."</p> + +<p>He moved towards the bed. Then he halted and his stomach muscles +contracted. Slowly his head turned to see what was behind. There was +somebody in the room. He stared until his eyes smarted, but could see +nothing. He listened, but could catch no sound. Yet, somewhere close to +him, a living thing moved; he was positive of that. Nobody had ever +questioned Johnson's courage, but now he experienced a peculiar gripping +of the throat and a pringling over all his skin.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" he asked, and waited.</p> + +<p>"Who's there, I say?"</p> + +<p>Surely there was a faint stirring in the corner, the merest pinpoint of +a sound. The sheriff whipped out his gun. He could descry nothing, but +pointing his forefinger along the barrel to where he thought an object +crouched, he thumbed the hammer. It fell with a click on an empty +chamber. Before he could pull again, a body hurled itself through the +dark on Johnson.</p> + +<p>Instantly he grappled it. A knife thrust was the danger now, and he +locked his arms about his assailant and heaved sideways, driving his hip +against the opposing hip to give momentum to the throw. The other lost +his feet and Lafe swung with all his weight, but they crashed against +the wall, which brought them upstanding. While one could count ten, the +two stood breast to breast, panting.</p> + +<p>The sheriff suddenly brought his right knee upward with force, desirous +of driving it into his opponent's stomach, but the blow was caught on +the thigh, and again they went lurching about the room, gasping for +breath, but voiceless. As he strove to pin the jerking arms, Johnson's +mind ran automatically on the empty chamber. How had the hammer happened +on that? Sure—the Fashion man had done it.</p> + +<p>The discovery gave him new strength. In swift rage he tried for a lower +hold, feeling his enemy weaken. The momentary release of his grip was +enough. The other wrenched one arm free and swung it. Lafe was dimly +conscious of a crash and the tinkle of broken glass. He felt no pain. It +seemed to him that trains were rushing by at high speed, and he was +beset with the idea that he had something to do that he was powerless to +perform. He crumpled up and slid to the floor, his fingers scratching +the boards for the handle of his six-shooter, but all the strength +seemed gone from them. And now, mingling with the roar of the train and +the harsh screaming of brakes, was the rattle of a horse's hoofs. The +sheriff stretched out on his back and sighed.</p> + +<p>The patter of rain on the roof was the first sound that aroused Johnson. +Assuredly the house leaked, for there were warm drops falling on his +face, too. Next, he heard somebody strike a match, and he began to +speculate in a sort of languid wonder as to what a woman was doing there +and what made her cry. Then a shooting pain above the right ear wrung an +exclamation from him and he tried to sit up.</p> + +<p>"Don't. Don't. You must lie still."</p> + +<p>"Hetty," he said.</p> + +<p>She knelt beside him and held a wet handkerchief to the wound.</p> + +<p>"You're hurt bad, Lafe. Don't talk," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Steve Moffatt—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, dear. Lie still."</p> + +<p>Splinters of a bottle strewed the floor around him. So Moffatt had got +away. The sheriff looked weakly at Hetty.</p> + +<p>"How did you get here?"</p> + +<p>"Hush. You mustn't talk. Keep still and I'll go for Dr. Armstrong."</p> + +<p>"How—?"</p> + +<p>"I heard you calling me," she said.</p> + +<p>"Calling you?" the sheriff repeated. "Why, hon, I never said a word."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>CAPTURE OF MOFFATT, THE GUNMAN</h3> + + +<p>For more than a month, the sheriff lay sick. Armstrong feared concussion +of the brain, but his diagnosis proved incorrect. And Hetty nursed him +as never a man was nursed before, in that country of rough methods. +Indeed, her devotion was so pronounced that the entire sentiment of +Badger underwent a change. The married ladies came to the tardy +conclusion that Miss Ferrier belonged to the sisterhood of good women; +none of the males had ever doubted it; the whole town paid tribute to +her conduct, and their indignation against the sheriff's assailant waxed +correspondingly.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of the first week of convalescence, the Floyds arrived +in Badger from the Lazy L. Mrs. Floyd was hampered by no scruples on the +score of false modesty; if her husband did not object—if her Tom +understood—what mattered it about the rest of the world? So, straight +to Lafe's bedside she went.</p> + +<p>"Lafe! Dear old Lafe," she exclaimed, when she saw the unnatural pallor +of his face.</p> + +<p>Hetty was standing at the other side of the bed. She tried bravely not +to stiffen towards their visitor when she saw her kneel and take Lafe's +hand, but some subtle sense of divination—or perhaps it was that Mrs. +Floyd was so pretty—made her reception frigid. Mrs. Floyd glanced +quickly into her face, then seized her impetuously, crying: "Don't. Oh, +please don't. Lafe and I were babies together."</p> + +<p>Whereupon the amazed patient beheld Hetty clasp the smaller woman in her +arms, and the two took to weeping.</p> + +<p>This must have been excellent for his complaint, because the sheriff +mended rapidly from that date. It was not long before he went about as +usual, although a long strip of plaster adorned one ear. His first care +was to talk with the proprietor of the Fashion, who said: "The hammer +was on the wrong chamber? Why, Lafe, surely you don't think—"</p> + +<p>That was exactly what the sheriff thought. It ended in the saloonkeeper +leaving town in haste. Then the sheriff set quietly to work to ascertain +whither Moffatt had flown for refuge. It would be so warm for him along +the Border now, that a haven would be difficult.</p> + +<p>"We'd best to wait a mite yet, Hetty," he told his fiancée again. +"Supposing he was to get me? No, no. It's either me or him. So let's +just keep the wedding off a while, hon, and then this'll all be +straightened out."</p> + +<p>"Oh—all right."</p> + +<p>"You see, hon, I want to have a clean slate," he went on rather lamely. +"Don't you understand? Before we get married, I aim to throw up this job +of sheriff and take to running cattle with ol' Horne."</p> + +<p>"Huh-huh."</p> + +<p>"Don't look that way, hon. Steve, he's the last. I'll go get him and +then I'll have done what they put me in for."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course, if you think more of the people who elected you than you +do of me," said Hetty.</p> + +<p>For a moment he seemed taken aback. Then his face cleared and he swept +Hetty into his arms.</p> + +<p>He did not have long to wait for news of the outlaw. A telegram came +from Floyd of the Lazy L.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Steve Moffatt in Lost Springs mountains. Heading for the Jug. +Killed Pablo Jiminez to-day while running off bunch of horses. +Horne and I offer five hundred reward for him.</p></blockquote> + +<p>It was because of this wire that the sheriff rode up a caņon in Lost +Springs on a cool October afternoon. The wind played through the +live-oaks and scrub-cedar and went whistling upward to be lost among the +solemn peaks. Some cattle were watering at a shallow hole. A ground +squirrel scurried across his front. From all about came the soft, +mournful cooing of wild doves.</p> + +<p>All morning he had been climbing. Sometimes he traveled three miles to +gain a mile of distance; winding upward to high mesas, skirting them and +descending into another caņon nearer the summits toward which Moffatt +was heading.</p> + +<p>Presently he was confronted by a wall of rock. It was a sheer thirty +feet in height and water oozed down its face into a small pool. There +seemed no way out and Lafe scanned the cliffs in search of the trail. +While he lolled thus in the saddle, there came a shot from above his +head and his horse winced. Without hesitation he fell to the ground and +scrambled on hands and knees to the shelter of a tree.</p> + +<p>"I near got you that time, Johnson," a clear voice called to him.</p> + +<p>It came from behind the crags above the pool. Then he thought he heard +the ring of a horse's shoe on stone, but he was too cautious to expose +himself at once. For fully an hour he waited, listening for evidence of +his enemy and occasionally sighting along the barrel of his 30-30. Then, +persuaded Moffatt had seized the chance to increase his lead, he +remounted and continued the pursuit. A wale along his mount's shoulder +was the only injury.</p> + +<p>"He's scared, or he could have got me then," said Lafe, examining this +with much satisfaction.</p> + +<p>In late afternoon he threaded a broad caņon and entered on a stretch of +brakes, perhaps six miles in length and one in width. The top of its +numberless bald hills overlooked the caņon's sides. The track he +followed ran along a narrow plateau. At intervals, chalky cliffs dropped +sheer away on his right hand to a depth of two hundred feet, and there +were gaping cavities into which a mountain could have been dumped, +resembling in their formation the craters of extinct volcanoes. Giant +fissures showed in the mounds of salmon-colored clay, and, close beside +him, a yawning void threatened, whence a hundred thousand tons of shale +had slid. Of vegetation there was none here, save a tangle of +prickly-pear at the mouth of a gulch.</p> + +<p>"There he goes now," said the sheriff, pricking his horse.</p> + +<p>Moffatt was nearly a mile ahead and moving leisurely, as though he had +no fear. He topped a rise and waved his hand at Johnson before dipping +out of sight.</p> + +<p>This confidence was partially explained when the sheriff eased his horse +down the declivity that had shut him from view and discovered a break in +the trail. At this point it ended at a huge rock, and split. One part +ran along the base of the rock and then turned back in the direction he +had come. At least it so looked, but he could not see its ultimate +destination because of the broken nature of the country. The other path +made a slight detour and went on, past the rock.</p> + +<p>"Huh-huh," said Johnson, pulling up. "Sure. He's back of me again, the +rascal."</p> + +<p>In spite of an effort by Moffatt to disguise his imprint at the +junction, the trail lay plain to Lafe. It was too old a game for him to +be deceived; had he not once, on a previous hunt, detected Moffatt's +ruse in changing his horse's shoes so that the corks were in front? +Suddenly he uttered an exclamation and got down in the dust on his +hands and knees. There was a second trail, and it was following +Moffatt's.</p> + +<p>It came from beyond the rock, and then changed direction and now +overlapped the outlaw's. Had the two met? It was probable that Moffatt +had come upon a confederate, for this was the region of the Jug, the +rendezvous for fugitives. But why, then, had the two not come to meet +him?</p> + +<p>"That ain't Steve's way," Johnson reflected. "It's like they're laying +for me up the trail a piece."</p> + +<p>Neither did this solution satisfy him. One thing alone about the look of +the two tracks seemed to make the notion of two confederates riding +peacefully in single file untenable. The last rider was going faster +than the other. Then he must be in pursuit.</p> + +<p>Debating these possibilities, the sheriff advanced with caution. +Limestone cliffs soon hemmed him in. He came upon a steer as he crossed +a tiny mountain stream. The animal dashed away, wild as an antelope. +Just before he made the next turn, Johnson glanced back. The steer had +stopped to gaze after him. It would not willingly leave the vicinity of +the water it had come six miles to get.</p> + +<p>The going became so rough that his horse faltered and the sheriff feared +that he might maim himself any moment on the rocks. The way was nothing +but a succession of narrow gorges, leading one into the other and +cluttered with bowlders; ever ascending, the light became more subdued +as the caņon's walls grew steeper and higher. He calculated that he +must be nearing the summits of Lost Springs.</p> + +<p>A shot reverberated among the cliffs in front of him; then another. The +echoes rolled and multiplied. The abrupt detonations startled his mount, +which sprang under the quick, nervous grasp of the knee. A stone gave +under foot, and down came horse and rider with a jolt like a trunk being +dumped from a baggage car.</p> + +<p>The sheriff instantly cheeked his horse, holding his head down by main +strength lest the beast rise and trample him. His foot hung in the +stirrup and the spur was caught in the blanket. There was no need for +this precaution. The poor brute lay where he fell, nostrils quivering +and his breath coming in tearing gasps. Instantly realizing that he was +seriously hurt, Lafe began to extricate himself. He slowly drew his leg +from the boot; free, leaped upward and pinned the horse's head with his +knee. One look at the right foreleg was sufficient. Johnson stuck his +gun to the white star on its forehead and pulled the trigger.</p> + +<p>He was now thoroughly angry.</p> + +<p>"Doggone that scoundrel. I'll go get him if I have to walk barefoot from +here to the Jug," he declared wrathfully.</p> + +<p>A good horse gone, and Moffatt still ahead! Yet he had much to be +thankful for. He was unhurt except for a severe shaking, and a bruise to +his ankle. The sheriff wasted no time on his predicament, but removed +saddle, bridle and blanket from the body and hid them in a hole high up +among rocks.</p> + +<p>The boot came with the saddle, and having tied his handkerchief about +the injured ankle, he went forward again, carrying the rifle in one +hand, the boot in the other.</p> + +<p>He entered a wider gorge, well wooded with post-oak. The ground rose +steeply and the caņon narrowed half a mile ahead to an oval opening +between cliffs. Beyond this towered a solid peak. This was the Jug, the +fastness to which the Border bandits retreated in times of stress. Lafe +peered hard up the caņon and halted to spy out surroundings. From behind +that opening, one determined man could hold off a regiment.</p> + +<p>"I swan," he ejaculated.</p> + +<p>A dead horse, saddled, lay near a fallen tree not twenty yards distant. +It was still bleeding from a wound in the neck. The trappings were old +and patched and repaired with rope, after the fashion of the natives. +This, then, accounted for one of the shots. The sheriff gazed, and +stepped hastily behind a post-oak.</p> + +<p>Something had risen from the ground about a hundred yards beyond. +Peeping round his shelter, he saw that it was another horse, whose +forequarters flopped helplessly as it strove to rise. Instantly he +recognized the markings of the "paint" on which Moffatt had fled.</p> + +<p>"Somebody has beaten me to him," he muttered; then sprang from behind +his tree with ready gun and yelled: "Hi!"</p> + +<p>Close to the far horse two men were struggling on the ground. As he +looked, one rolled uppermost and, wrenching a hand loose, struck with a +knife. A stifled cry came from the man underneath, and the sheriff ran +forward at top speed.</p> + +<p>A Mexican was straddling Moffatt, one hand about his throat. The outlaw +was vainly endeavoring to break the grip with his fingers. The knife was +raised for a second blow, when the native heard the crunch of the +sheriff's boot and turned his head. His expression of raging hate +changed to a look of such absolute amazement that it was almost +ludicrous. Next instant he released Moffatt and scurried away like a +cottontail, zigzagging among the trees as he headed for the Jug. It +would have been an easy matter to bring him down, and for the fraction +of a second Johnson was so inclined. Then: "Pshaw, I ain't looking for +him," he said, and hurried to Moffatt's side.</p> + +<p>"Hello," said Steve weakly, opening his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt, Moffatt? Hurt bad?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty bad, I reckon," said the injured man. "He done got me here."</p> + +<p>He placed a hand over his right breast. There was a knife wound high up, +which was bleeding generously, but not enough to cause alarm. Johnson +unfastened the shirt and inspected the cut. It was deep, but the +Mexican's thrust had been diverted and had gone high, toward the +shoulder. Lafe did not think that the lung had been pierced or that +there was internal hemorrhage. He removed the bandage from his ankle, +found some water dripping from crevices in the cliff, bathed and bound +the wound.</p> + +<p>Said Moffatt: "Gee, I wish I had a drink."</p> + +<p>Johnson caught some in his hat, and cooled his face when he had drunk. +The outlaw seemed grateful.</p> + +<p>"You ain't got anything to eat, have you?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"I reckon you're feeling better? What'd you like? A steak with onions?"</p> + +<p>Moffatt grinned, made a wry face and sat up painfully.</p> + +<p>"Where did that fool Mexican go to?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Lafe pointed to the Jug and opined that they would have to leave him +there. The Jug was too formidable for assault, unless they had urgent +need of him.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" exclaimed Moffatt. "He ain't there now. I'll bet he's sneaked +out the back way and is drifting right now. His gun went wrong, or it's +like he'd have got me. No, sir, ol' Jiminez has beat it while the going +was good, you can bet."</p> + +<p>"Jiminez?" the sheriff repeated. "Pablo Jiminez?"</p> + +<p>"His brother," answered Moffatt, and became sullen.</p> + +<p>Johnson said nothing more just then. All was now explained. The Mexican +had cut across country over unfrequented trails to intercept Moffatt at +the Jug, as soon as he had learned of the killing of his brother. They +had been companions on more than one ranch raid for horses, and he had +guessed where Moffatt would seek refuge.</p> + +<p>"Whose horse was shot first?" Lafe demanded, after an interval of +silence, during which he gathered wood for a fire.</p> + +<p>"Mine. Then I got his before he could shoot again. And when he done +fell, he smashed his ol' gun. That was sure some luck."</p> + +<p>"But why," Johnson said, much amazed, "why didn't you get him then? It +ought to have been easy."</p> + +<p>"No kattridges," said Moffatt briefly.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterwards, night coming on, he proposed that Lafe go ahead into +the Jug and make certain Jiminez was not there. If the place were empty, +they could find shelter therein for the night; likewise flour and bacon +and beans, and pots to cook them in. Save for weakness, part of which +was the result of hunger, the outlaw did not appear greatly distressed +from his wound, which had stopped bleeding.</p> + +<p>Accordingly the sheriff approached the oval opening, exercising nice +circumspection. It looked sufficiently peaceful. An acute, carefully +developed instinct for danger told Johnson that none lurked there.</p> + +<p>"Go on," Moffatt called after him. "He can't shoot, anyhow. No gun. +We'll take a chance."</p> + +<p>"<i>We</i> will? This is me. Not you," answered Johnson.</p> + +<p>Then he cried in Mexican a friendly greeting, to be on the safe side in +the event of Jiminez being in hiding, and strode into the Jug. The +opening led into a high and deep cave. It was deserted. In front was a +shallow open space, and here were the ashes of fires and some empty +bottles and old cans. In a remote corner of the cave, under some dirty +sacks, were flour and bacon.</p> + +<p>"Come on," he said, returning. "Let's go. It'll be dark in a minute."</p> + +<p>Propping Moffatt with his shoulder, and an arm about his waist, Lafe +reëntered the Jug. There they spent the night.</p> + +<p>Before the early coyotes had got into full swing in their morning songs, +they were astir and made what breakfast they could. The sheriff was +eager to be gone. Who could say at what moment a pair of desperadoes, +with prior claims on the Jug, might not ride up the trail? In that +event, he knew that Moffatt might be relied upon to act against him, and +Johnson was feeling in no humor for further combat. His prisoner's +shoulder was very stiff and caused him exquisite pain when he moved; +also, he had a slight fever; but these things are borne as visitations +of their profession by such men, and Moffatt never questioned the +sheriff's demand that they start at once. He pursed his lips and +whistled when the darting pains in his shoulder began, but went readily +enough.</p> + +<p>There was a slender ribbon of trail leading from the mouth of the Jug +around the mountain peak and down the other side into a wide draw. By +following it, said Moffatt, they could hit a road which ran south.</p> + +<p>"It's eleven miles to it, though, and—wow—what a country. Say, Lafe, +what're you going to do with me?"</p> + +<p>"You're coming to Badger," replied the sheriff.</p> + +<p>The outlaw gave him a sidelong look. "Oh, well," he said, "if you're set +on it, all right."</p> + +<p>When they had entered the draw after a terrible, sliding descent of the +back trail—during which Lafe often bore his prisoner's entire +weight—Moffatt spoke up again.</p> + +<p>"Got any bread?" said he.</p> + +<p>"You bet. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there's a big ol' mule we turned out here. I done found him last +year down in Zacaton Bottom. He was like to of died, that mule. But I +fixed him up good and packed some bedding and chuck on him way up here. +He's sure been useful, too. You keep your eye skinned and if you see +him, just give him bread. Ridin's cheaper'n walkin'."</p> + +<p>"It sure is. Let's go—easy—that's it."</p> + +<p>The two had covered another mile of the draw, when, behind a tangle of +mesquite, sounded a snort of suspicion.</p> + +<p>"Good boy. Good ol' boy," said Johnson soothingly, advancing with the +bread extended.</p> + +<p>The mule jumped sidewise, hampered by a hobble. He sniffed and the +sheriff followed, with endearing words and blandishments. Would he never +stand still? It was a gaunt animal, with an especially large head. +Probably it smelled the delicacy so rarely enjoyed, because it came +blowing at Lafe's hand. Whilst it munched on the crust, Johnson removed +the hobble and tied the rope around its neck. Then, with a fervent +prayer that the evil latent in every mule might be appeased, he hoisted +Moffatt to his back and clambered up behind him. They headed out of the +draw.</p> + +<p>The sun was three hours high when they struck the road and paused at a +wallow to give their mount a sip of water. Outside the draw he had +obstinately refused to proceed faster than a walk and Lafe's sense of +security was not sufficient to dispute the pace with him. As he lifted +his massive head from drinking, a pair of mules shoved their noses above +a rise and a wagon came into view. A white man was driving. Johnson +waved his hat and shouted a frantic greeting.</p> + +<p>The stage was already descending and the driver could not stop it, +although he laid himself back on the reins in the attempt. The sheriff +regarded him in amazement. Was he gone crazy? When almost opposite, he +let out a whoop and, running out on the pole, cut at the team with his +whip. They went by at a gallop in a cloud of sand. Lafe caught a +fleeting glimpse of the driver's white face and wavering eyes. Then +their mount was seized of the devil; down went his head and he pitched +as only a mule can. Moffatt went off at the first jump; at the third, +Lafe scattered the waters of the wallow.</p> + +<p>The opposite ascent was of soft sand, and before they reached the top, +fatigue compelled the stage team to drop to a walk. The driver looked +back, apprehension showing even in the bend of his neck. The gray mule +had disappeared. Seeing Johnson on foot, helping Moffatt from the +ground, the man threw on the brake and the stage came to a halt. The +sheriff toiled painfully up the hill, holding the suffering outlaw +around the waist.</p> + +<p>"Here," said the driver in a dry voice. "Get in. Get in."</p> + +<p>Together they lifted Steve in. The driver released the brakes and +whipped his mules to a gallop.</p> + +<p>"I swan. I swan," he kept repeating.</p> + +<p>"Why the hell didn't you stop? Hey? What do you mean by running by that +way?" said the sheriff angrily.</p> + +<p>"Runnin' by? Runnin'—why, man alive," croaked the driver, "that doggone +ol' mule you rode used to pull this stage. And he's been daid over a +year."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>THE WEDDING</h3> + + +<p>When in a discursive mood, Badger was wont to say, with the aggressive +local pride common to new communities, that the world had produced three +great men—Julius Caesar, Theodore Roosevelt and Lafe Johnson. They +accorded this ranking to Julius rather reluctantly, he having been a +"foreigner." Imagine, then, their feelings of helpless amazement when +they learned that Lafe was about to leave them.</p> + +<p>"You don't need no sheriff here now," said he. "Things have got so +peaceful that what you want is a dog-catcher and a pound-man. I ain't a +candidate for that job. Go ahead and elect a city marshal, and let him +do the chores when he ain't busy on anything else."</p> + +<p>He was obdurate in this resolution. To his intimates he confessed that +the hazards and journeyings of the office made it unfit for occupancy by +a married man. And, now that Moffatt was safely in jail and the country +cleared of its worst element, he proposed to become a married man. It +was Hetty who steeled him in this resolve, when the pleadings of his +friends and fellow-townsmen appeared to have him wavering. She had her +eyes fixed on Lafe's place beyond the Willows as on a haven of rest, and +the Widow Brown gathered from her conversation that Hetty's notion of a +respectable and happy citizen was a farmer with one hundred and sixty +acres and a flock of children. She mentioned this to Hetty, who grew +crimson and requested her to talk sense.</p> + +<p>So Lafe resigned as sheriff of Badger, and they presented him with a +large watch which ticked so loudly that he could not sleep with it under +his pillow; and several staid, responsible property holders got very +drunk indeed.</p> + +<p>The wedding was fixed for the day following that on which he laid down +the cares of office. He and Hetty were talking over final arrangements +on the eve.</p> + +<p>"I've got a surprise for you," said Lafe.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Ol' man Horne has bought the Anvil range. He's made me boss, too. A +hundred a month."</p> + +<p>Hetty exclaimed in delight as Johnson proudly exhibited a letter +received quite three weeks before, which he had been holding back in +order to cap his resignation. That made everything smooth and safe for +them. They would have their home in Hope Caņon beyond the Willows, and +good fresh beef and butter and milk. Assuredly Lafe would himself become +a rich cowman some day. Hetty was sure of it.</p> + +<p>Their wedding-morn broke, sullen and muttering like a man heavy with +sleep. Badger kicked off the blankets, sat up to ascertain just what +head it had contracted, and asked hoarsely for an eye-opener. An +eye-opener is a drink of undiluted whisky, gulped down before breakfast. +Then it stepped out into the road, cocked an eye aloft and opined that +the weather looked bad for the sheriff's wedding. They will always call +him "sheriff" in Badger.</p> + +<p>Turner, the storekeeper, announced at a very early hour that it was mere +folly trying to work, and nobody need expect him to attend to business +that day or for several to come, perhaps. Thereupon he shut up shop and +carried a graphophone on to the front porch. It played "In the Shade of +the Old Apple Tree" eleven times, while the express agent's dog squatted +in the road, with its nose tilted back, and howled dismally.</p> + +<p>About noon, nine of the Anvil boys rode into town to grace the occasion. +They had on clean shirts, and their boots were greased and odorous. +Following them came Mr. and Mrs. Horne in a buckboard. The couple had +driven forty miles to do honor to the new range boss, and Mrs. Horne +lost no time in repairing to the Widow Brown's to assist in attiring the +bride. She found that young woman aggravatingly cool—almost placid. +Next there arrived the Floyds, with their son Tommy, now grown to +overalls and boastful talk.</p> + +<p>All the male population of Badger was gathered in the Fashion and in +the Cowboys' Rest across the street. Thither hastened Horne and Floyd to +hearten the sheriff, but they discovered only their own men and a crowd +of merry-makers. Escaping from them in good time, the two sought Turner, +who, as justice of the peace, was to perform the ceremony. The +storekeeper was found crouched behind some goods in the back portion of +his place. He was perspiring profusely. Some fiend in human form had +warned Bob not to mix the burial service with the marriage ceremony, as +he had done on another occasion best forgotten, and the justice of the +peace could not get the fearful idea out of his head. He was therefore +trying to commit as much as possible of the service to memory.</p> + +<p>"You're looking pretty slick, Bob. Where's Lafe?" asked Horne.</p> + +<p>"He's upstairs. I hid him out in that empty room where we keep the +stiffs," said Turner, hastily secreting the book. By "stiffs" he +referred to the custom of holding the bodies of gentlemen who met +violent deaths, until a coroner's jury pronounced on them.</p> + +<p>"That's a good place for him," said Floyd.</p> + +<p>They started upstairs. "Wait," cried Turner. "I'll take him his dinner."</p> + +<p>The trio found Lafe sitting on a stool. He had on a new suit and his +hair was plastered down over his forehead, but despite this brave show, +he was wretched, gazing miserably out of the window into the street, +where numbers of his friends were surging up and down and across. As +they entered, a cowboy topped an outlaw mule and the frenzied shrieks of +encouragement to the rider drew Horne and Floyd and Turner to look. Then +his employer obtained a close view of the sheriff's face.</p> + +<p>"You sick?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"No-oo. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Then, man alive, brace up. You ain't going to be hung."</p> + +<p>Lafe smiled in ghastly fashion and essayed to eat of the steak and +vegetables which the justice had brought. It was a vain pretense. His +throat was dry and he could not swallow without straining. After +watching him a while, Horne suggested that they all take a drink.</p> + +<p>"I find a touch of rye helps me a heap when I'm poorly," said he.</p> + +<p>To this proposal nobody objected.</p> + +<p>"Got the ring?" said Horne.</p> + +<p>Again the sheriff gave a sickly grin and stuck his forefinger into a +waistcoat pocket. Instantly his face turned a pea-green shade.</p> + +<p>"Why," he exclaimed, "I done put it there not five—" He started going +through every pocket with shaking hands.</p> + +<p>"Jumpin' Jupiter!" said Turner. "You done give me that ring to keep for +you an hour ago, Lafe. He kept taking it out so often to look at it, I +was scared he'd wear it out, Horne."</p> + +<p>In any report of a wedding, it is proper to itemize the plunder. We will +therefore leave the bridegroom and his three tried friends to pass the +remaining hours playing "cold hands" with cards, whilst we take a peep +into the Widow Brown's abode. Hetty is dressing by the aid of Mrs. Horne +and Mrs. Floyd, and no peeping is permissible there. Out upon the +thought! Suffice that she wore that day certain fine linen and fluffy +creations, the like of which the ladies of Badger had never seen and of +whose existence in wardrobes the male residents had no suspicion. Mrs. +Horne was vastly gratified.</p> + +<p>The presents were laid out in the parlor—all but one. That one was +given by the express agent, and was hidden deep in the barn, but rest +assured that it will ultimately be taken to the house in Hope Caņon. +Ever a facetious and far-sighted man, the express agent had sent a +go-cart.</p> + +<p>A piano lamp under a pink glass shade with green bead fringe centered +the display. The fact that it was made for gas—and they would be lucky, +indeed, always to have oil in the Caņon—did not diminish its value in +Hetty's eyes at all. Moreover, there was not a piano in Badger. Somebody +had sent Lafe a silver-plated six-shooter; another, a chromo lithograph +of the prophet Elijah caught up in a chariot of fire. To Hetty had come +shawls and cruetstands, coffee pots and tidies and chair scarfs; also, +plated cake dishes, cutlery and rugs. An erstwhile admirer from the Lazy +L, who had partaken of many meals at the Fashion on her account, sent a +milch cow, and for Lafe came a black saddler from Floyd. This was the +horse that had carried the Lazy L boss across a swollen river on a +certain occasion in which Johnson had figured, and he had often admired +the beast. A very serviceable gift was that from Horne—a check for +fifty dollars.</p> + +<p>"Wilt thou have this woman to—"</p> + +<p>They were standing side by side in the parlor of the Widow Brown's, +under a wedding-bell made of cedar boughs, which was suspended from the +ceiling by a wire. All Lafe's nervousness was gone. His face was stern, +but there was a peaceful light in the eyes that was good to see. +Evidently Mrs. Horne thought so, for she and the Widow Brown cried +softly and without ceasing. The bride was rather pale, but entirely +composed. Only Turner and Horne fidgeted, the latter because his collar +chafed him. Turner skimmed over the words and paused twice to whisper in +an aside that he hoped to the Lord Lafe hadn't forgotten the ring.</p> + +<p>"Wilt thou have this woman to—"</p> + +<p>There was an inward surge, then a break in the ranks of the guests +grouped behind the pair and at the door, and Turner paused with his hand +raised.</p> + +<p>"Hold on there! Hold on," cried a falsetto voice.</p> + +<p>An enormously fat woman lurched through the company and confronted the +groom. A felt hat with a red plume wagged rakishly on top of her head. +She had on a blue calico skirt, and her feet were large and bulbous. +They could not discern her features because of a veil.</p> + +<p>"What's this?" said she in a high-pitched voice. "What's this, Lafe +Johnson?"</p> + +<p>"Ma'am?" said the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean? Who is this lady?"</p> + +<p>"I don't take you, ma'am. This lady and me, we're just fixing to get +married. What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Matter? Matter?" shrieked the intruder. "You do fine to ask, don't you, +Lafe Johnson? What about me that you left in Abilene, back in Texas? +Hey? How about li'l' Charlie and James, that's the dead image of you? +He's been a-cryin' for you, Lafe. Just after he got over the +measles—oh, you wretch!"</p> + +<p>"Abilene?" repeated the sheriff dully. "Abilene? Charlie and James? Why, +I was never in Abilene longer than half an hour in my life, ma'am. You +can see for yourself—"</p> + +<p>Hetty, who had shrunk back with a startled air at the entrance of the +fat woman, now moved suddenly and pulled up the veil, disclosing the +round, shining visage of the Anvil cook.</p> + +<p>"Why!" said Horne. "If it ain't old Dave!"</p> + +<p>Instead of throwing him into the street or into jail, as he deserved, +the company permitted Dave to retire with honor to the outer circle, +where he divested himself of skirt, waist and plumed hat, and was heard +to entreat one of the boys to help loosen the belt with which he had +painfully compressed his figure for the event. They could hear him +squeal, pretending to be tickled. All agreed that his portrayal of +feminine behavior was a marvel of similitude.</p> + +<p>Neither Lafe nor the bride took the interruption in ill part. The +justice of the peace only appeared chagrined—Turner was in an agony of +fear lest he lose his place—but even he managed to join in the laugh. +The two faced him again. Three minutes later they were man and wife.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>THE BRIDE IS LOST</h3> + + +<p>For reasons of economy there was to be no wedding trip, except the drive +to their home in the Caņon. Later, perhaps, they would journey to some +railroad town to shop, and—come a good year—Lafe would take her to a +Middle West city—"to the East," they called it in Badger.</p> + +<p>A buckboard was in waiting, a pair of spirited young bays straining +against the men who held them. Sheltering Hetty with his body from a +shower of rice and old shoes, the sheriff and his bride sped down the +path from the Widow Brown's. He lifted her into the buckboard and picked +up the reins. Then a cloud of dust swept down on them, and out of the +cloud came a rattle of hoofs. A rope sped, and the sheriff was jerked +off the seat.</p> + +<p>"Help, Horne!" he cried. "They've got me."</p> + +<p>The treacherous Horne gave succor by grinning while the cowboys bound +the groom. Hetty had disappeared, whisked away in the turmoil. A man was +driving the buckboard toward the company's corrals, but of the bride +there was not a trace. Stealing her from her lord's arms is one of the +merriest jests we have.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Lafe good-naturedly, "I reckon it's one on me. Turn me +loose. I buy."</p> + +<p>An hour went by, and he endeavored to escape from his friends that he +might rejoin his wife. They would not hear of it. When Lafe insisted and +left despite them, he was unable to find Hetty. For another hour he kept +patient, dawdling in Turner's place and giving as good as he got in the +way of badinage. Everybody in town seized the opportunity to rally him +while he waited. The sheriff sat on the counter, kicking his heels +against the boards, and never once lost countenance.</p> + +<p>About five o'clock Mrs. Horne ran in hot haste to her husband.</p> + +<p>"Hetty," she panted, "where is she?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know?" said Horne. "You had her last. Didn't you and Mrs. +Brown hide her out?"</p> + +<p>"We locked her in Mrs. Turner's house. She's gone. She isn't there. Oh, +what shall I do? She's gone."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" the cowman said. "She's all right. She's just given you the +slip to go find Lafe."</p> + +<p>Still wringing her hands, Mrs. Horne returned to her ally, the Widow, +and they hunted the house and Mrs. Turner's house all over again. Hetty +was not to be found.</p> + +<p>"Boys, a joke's a joke and I can take mine with the rest," said +Lafe—in proof whereof he gave vent to a hollow "ha, ha"—"but this has +gone further. I want my wife. I want Hetty. Where is she?"</p> + +<p>It was the supper hour and they were collected at the Fashion, and still +no sign of the bride. Even Horne began to look anxious. His wife and the +Widow melted into tears, bitterly bewailing their share in this +unfortunate practical joking. Lafe indulged in no reproaches when the +situation was explained to him, but started on a systematic raking of +Badger. Search parties were instantly formed and not a corner of the +town was overlooked.</p> + +<p>One of the Lazy L outfit—he who had given the milch cow—became a +trifle too acrimonious in his denunciation of the manner in which the +Anvil men had behaved. They had stepped beyond the bounds of gentlemanly +comportment, he contended. There were high words, but the men separated. +Later they met again in the Cowboys' Rest and a shooting was imminent. A +boy summoned the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"Don't, boys," said Lafe, entering hastily. "Put up the gun, Dave. No +shooting now. Be good boys. If anything happened—if anybody got +hurt—Hetty, it'd break her all up."</p> + +<p>The combatants reluctantly surrendered their weapons and as reluctantly +shook hands. Each was hurriedly impressed into a search party and they +were led in opposite directions.</p> + +<p>Night found the citizens of Badger beating the bushes and peering into +fence corners and yelling Hetty's name. Despairing of finding her in +town, the sheriff and Horne made a circuit of the place. It had to be +done slowly, as the ground was rough and one was apt to fall over mounds +of tin cans and other débris.</p> + +<p>They were about a quarter of a mile beyond Badger's limits, when Lafe +halted suddenly.</p> + +<p>"She's somewhere near," said he.</p> + +<p>"Why, how do you figure it? I can't see my hand in front of my face."</p> + +<p>"Figure it?" said the sheriff, who was trembling. "Man, I can feel it."</p> + +<p>He cupped his hands and shouted—"Hetty! Oh—Hetty!"</p> + +<p>"Here I am," said a drowsy voice. "Is that you, Lafe? Gracious, what's +happened? It's dark."</p> + +<p>There was the bride, sitting beside a mesquite bush and rubbing her +eyes. They ran to her. She got up and limped a few steps.</p> + +<p>"My foot's gone to sleep," she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>With Lafe holding her on one side and Horne pacing austerely on the +other, she walked into town. Why had she run away? She had run away from +Mrs. Horne and the Widow because she perceived what they planned to do. +For an hour or two she waited for Lafe outside the town and then grew +very sleepy. So she lay down beside the bush.</p> + +<p>"I knew you would find me," said she.</p> + +<p>Horne began to whistle, not caring to hear the sheriff's assurance that +he would find her at the ends of the world—wherever those be.</p> + +<p>"What time is it? Lafe, dear, I'm so hungry. I feel like a steak," said +Hetty.</p> + +<p>While she was partaking of this with a very unbridelike appetite, and +Lafe was doing his best opposite her, a messenger brought the sheriff an +envelope. It was unaddressed, but there was a note inside—</p> + +<blockquote><p>Here's wishing you'll be happy. Adios. I won't bother you till +after the honeymoon.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Steve.</span></p></blockquote> + +<p>While he was puzzling over it, Hetty asked what was the matter. He +passed her the paper.</p> + +<p>"Wrote it in jail, I reckon," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lafe," said Turner, sticking his head inside the door, "here's a +telegram for you."</p> + +<p>It was from the county seat.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Steve Moffatt broke jail here yesterday. Gone over the Border.</p></blockquote> + +<p>This, also, Lafe handed to his wife.</p> + +<p>"Doggone his fat head," he said. "Why couldn't he wait? Let somebody +else catch him. My successor can do that."</p> + +<p>"Of course," she answered, sighing happily. "You'll never be bothered +with him again."</p> + +<p>"Never no more," said the sheriff, not knowing what the years would +bring.</p> + +<p>Although it was ten o'clock when they finished their meal, both insisted +on setting out for their new home in Hope Caņon.</p> + +<p>"Don't go to-night. You can stay with me," said the Widow Brown. +"There's lots of room. Or wait—I'll move out. You'll be more +comfortable all alone."</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, ma'am," answered the sheriff. "I know the trail like I +do the path from your front gate. We'll be there in two hours."</p> + +<p>So they set out through the languorous dark. Lafe drove easily with one +hand.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>JOHNSON BECOMES BOSS OF THE ANVIL</h3> + + +<p>The Johnsons went to live at Lafe's place beyond the Willows, in Hope +Caņon. And there they occupied a frame house on the crest of a knoll. It +was an ideal locality for a bridal couple, privacy being its most +pronounced feature. For nobody else lived in the Caņon and their nearest +neighbors were the citizens of Badger, fourteen miles distant, beyond a +swelling valley and a fringe of hills.</p> + +<p>Hetty was so busy making habitable the three bare rooms of the home, +that the days were as minutes to her and the weeks took wings. It was +absolutely amazing what she achieved with two tables, a packing case, +six chairs, a bureau and some mats and window curtains—all these +freighted from Badger in a wagon. No room of the three gave the +appearance of having been slighted. In lieu of pictures, she contrived +to bestow brightness to the walls by tacking up covers from magazines, +and solid comfort was afforded by bunks built in corners of two of the +rooms. They were draped with Navajo blankets and Hetty had constructed +them herself of substantial oak, Lafe being an indifferent carpenter and +immensely impatient of it. After the manner of his kind he hated any +task that could not be done on horseback. That Hetty had a taste for +show cannot be denied, because the bed in her room was hung with +mosquito netting in the shape of a canopy, and there was a wondrous blue +coverlet. Indeed, it was fit for a royal couch.</p> + +<p>To a bachelor of long standing, adjustment to married life brings with +it certain brain shocks and sudden vistas. It is constantly unfolding +surprises that burst on his vision as wonders. So many shifts of their +household arrangements struck Lafe as unique that he could not forbear +mention of them to his friends in Badger—with the air of a discoverer, +confident that nothing like this had ever been done or attempted before +in history. Whereupon they would emit merry jeers and the older men +would assure him that he would soon be harness-broken.</p> + +<p>But the greatest change was in his outlook on life, in the new +perspective and the new responsibilities that the married state opened +to him. A year before, the sheriff would have chafed at any restraint +which prohibited enjoyment with his friends after the fashion of the +country. Now, he willingly abandoned all his former boon companions whom +he chanced to meet, and did not do it with a sense of righteousness for +having lived up to his duty, but cheerfully, gladly, because their +companionship seemed now stale and flat and purposeless. And he was +always anxious to get home.</p> + +<p>"Don't you lose none of them parcels, sheriff," they would chaff, +standing on the sidewalk to watch Johnson tie his purchases to the +saddle.</p> + +<p>"Has she done begun to cut your hair yet, Lafe?" another inquired.</p> + +<p>Johnson would grin comfortably, and with an "Adios, you fellers," ride +off towards Hope Caņon. Invariably he brought a present for Hetty. +Everything pretty that he saw struck him as a possible gift for her, so +that their home waxed in comfort.</p> + +<p>In his blighted days of singleness, Lafe had often taken hearty +amusement out of the simple fact that some among his married friends +were obliged to rise at unearthly hours in order to light fires and do +household chores which he considered to be within the feminine province. +On the first mornings of their residence in the new home, he performed +these tasks as a loving attention. Of course, ever after he had to do +them as a duty. Once a man does a thing, he establishes a precedent +which a conscientious individual finds it hard to break—but, bless you, +Lafe would never have permitted Hetty to do jobs of this sort, that were +within his own powers of performance. So he helped cheerily as +dishwasher and assistant housemaid, this gunfighting sheriff of Badger.</p> + +<p>Yet Lafe did not emerge wholly scatheless from the ill customs of a +lifetime. On a day, old man Horne sent him to Badger in company of a +cattle buyer, with whom Horne was making a deal that ran into hundreds +of thousands of dollars. And his orders were that Johnson was to get the +buyer drunk and keep him in that enviable condition as long as he could. +This is considered legitimate in the cow country and "good business."</p> + +<p>Lafe did so. And in the course of his enthusiastic labors, he took on a +cargo which he found some difficulty in storing. The night of his +return, Johnson, as he rode up Hope Caņon, sang a ditty which were best +forgotten by a respectable married man.</p> + +<p>The house was in darkness, and when he would have entered their bedroom, +he found the door locked.</p> + +<p>"This ain't no time to get mad," Lafe said warily, winking into the +dark, and went to sleep on one of the bunks.</p> + +<p>Next morning his appetite for breakfast was far below normal, but he +kept Hetty busy boiling coffee.</p> + +<p>"What was the trouble last night?" he had the brazenness to ask.</p> + +<p>"I knew there was something the matter when I saw that note you sent +from town by the boy," said Hetty, "and I didn't want to see you. What I +don't know won't hurt me much, I reckon."</p> + +<p>Lafe was feeling very shaky, and looked up at her from his plate with +marked shamefacedness.</p> + +<p>"It won't never happen again," he promised, and Hetty came around behind +his chair and put her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>"You've been a pretty good boy," she whispered, "but, oh, Lafe, I just +couldn't bear to see you. That's why I locked the door."</p> + +<p>Johnson took to his cow work with much zest. The Anvil range was a huge +domain, a kingdom in itself. The bawling of Horne's calves sounded from +the 108th to the 111th meridian of longitude and the Anvil steers grazed +a thousand hills. Much of this land was free range, the property of the +American people; but Horne controlled it by owning all the water-holes, +and defended his rights by the iron hand. In addition to the free grass, +he had some hundreds of thousands of acres under fence, which was his by +purchase of Spanish grants—a portion of it on the other side of the +Border.</p> + +<p>To be boss of the Anvil, then, meant something. Directly and indirectly, +Lafe had two hundred men under him. Fifty of these were cowboys; the +others were employed as windmill hands, as farmers to grow feed for the +cattle in winter, and as laborers to put up new fences, corrals and +division camps, for Horne was laying out the range on his own lines.</p> + +<p>Johnson chose his outfit with considerable shrewdness. He was a keen +judge of men and knew cattle from horn to hoof and beyond to the stock +yards. Therefore the Anvil riders were famed in the land as expert +cowmen. Ability to ride or dexterity with the rope did not win a cowboy +a place with the Anvil. He took those who best understood the science of +the range. Most of them were Texans, and men of mature years.</p> + +<p>"The northern boys make better busters," he told Horne. "Take 'em all in +all and they can beat our boys riding. But they don't know cattle like +these longhorn Texans do. No, sir; it takes our southern boys to know +how to handle cattle."</p> + +<p>Thus did Lafe make a propitious start and win respect. And the months +went by, and the two in Hope Caņon were ridiculously happy.</p> + +<p>Unruffled happiness cannot endure for long. Perhaps it would pall if it +did. A thing, to be deemed precious, must have contrasts to establish +its value. So there entered into the wedded life of the Johnsons its +first severe jar.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>ENTERS TROUBLE</h3> + + +<p>"You'll know her because she has yellow hair and gray, gray eyes and her +clothes fit," said Mrs. Horne. "Besides, nobody else will get off."</p> + +<p>"How'll we know they fit her?" Lafe asked. "Suppose they shouldn't +happen to fit her right snug, ma'am, we'll leave her at The Tanks?"</p> + +<p>"She'll be on the last car," said Mrs. Horn "Remember—yellow hair and +gray eyes. Judith walks like this."</p> + +<p>With these directions, Mrs. Horn sent Johnson to The Tanks to meet the +Burro express. It was called that by the sparse population of the region +in a spirit of levity: a burro will pause to graze on the least excuse +and takes joy in lying down with his pack.</p> + +<p>It was twenty-seven miles from the ranch to The Tanks, and Manuel would +follow with a buckboard and mule team, since it was manifestly absurd to +expect Mrs. Vining to make the journey horseback. Lafe was much elated +to be chosen for this mission and invited me to accompany him.</p> + +<p>"Miz Horne," said he, "wouldn't send a greenhorn. No, sir; she wants +somebody who'll look like something in decent company. Say, if I get any +stronger with ol' Horne, he'd ought to raise me. Don't you reckon?"</p> + +<p>Cheered by the prospect, he began a monologue to his horse, a habit Mr. +Johnson had acquired in lonely places. "Doggone your fat head, why can't +you lift your feet? Hey? Hold still, can't you, till I light this +cigarette? Oh, you needn't look back. You know I'm here all right."</p> + +<p>In early afternoon we crossed a caņon on the far side of The Hatter and +turned to the left along a mesa. Lafe puckered his eyes, squinted +carefully and said: "Well, I swan. Do you see that?"</p> + +<p>A man was sitting on the skull of a horse and he was counting the tops +of the hills. It struck me as a profitless form of endeavor. As we +neared him: "No," he remarked, "that's not right. I made it two thousand +and three before."</p> + +<p>"Off in your tally, pardner?" Lafe inquired civilly.</p> + +<p>He proceeded, unheeding, with his simple addition. "One thousand and +seventy-six, and those five little fellows make—what do they make, +now?" He broke off to scratch his head in vexation. He looked at Johnson +briefly and then stared at me.</p> + +<p>"That fellow there," he said, with a nod at Lafe, "that fellow's crazy. +Everybody's crazy out here—all but me."</p> + +<p>He was not an old man, but his hair was grizzled and fell in dirty +disorder to his shoulders. We could see portions of him through his +clothes, and a sleeve of his shirt was not. Yet I began to marvel, for +he spoke with the accent of culture.</p> + +<p>"There used to be three thousand four hundred and eight scrub-cedars on +that big mountain yonder," he confided to me. "I've lost count a bit +lately, though. What do you make 'em?"</p> + +<p>"You're short six. Four hundred and fourteen—not four hundred and +eight."</p> + +<p>He thanked me and considered this for some minutes. "Perhaps you're +right," he said. "Sometimes when these old rocks take to hopping up and +down, it keeps a man on the move not to lose track of 'em."</p> + +<p>"It must be right hard doing that 'rithmetic all day long?" Johnson +ventured.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. I get hungry frequently. Have you boys got anything to eat? +Well, if you haven't, you'd best be on your way."</p> + +<p>Complying with the suggestion, Lafe turned his horse. "It's that ol' +prospector who lives up on the shoulder of The Hatter," he told me.</p> + +<p>It did not seem right to leave him thus. The man was deranged and unfit +to be at large. But when I proposed that he accompany us to The Tanks, +our acquaintance returned a vehement refusal. We could not fool him, he +said. The last man who gave him a ride had tried to put him on board a +train, and he had been compelled to knock the fellow on the head with a +stick of wood. So we left him sitting on the skull, counting the tops of +the hills. He mentioned carelessly that he would probably see us again.</p> + +<p>There was no mistaking the lady we had come to escort.</p> + +<p>"There she is. Wouldn't she knock you cold?" Lafe whispered.</p> + +<p>Her hair was yellow, and she gave the impression of having been melted +and poured into her pink muslin. Assuredly she was not of our world, and +most certainly her clothes fitted. The conductor, a large individual of +red hair and an aloof expression, closed his left eye slowly at Lafe and +stepped aboard. The Burro express crawled away up the valley and we set +out for the ranch, Johnson riding close to the buckboard, the better to +converse with Mrs. Vining.</p> + +<p>She began to question about the country and cow work. Everything was +"astonishing" or "delightful, really," of course; and no matter what she +said, there was injected into her speech an indefinable note that seemed +to place the listener on a confidential footing, to the exclusion of all +others. Some women have this faculty. The two ignored me utterly. I +coughed once or twice as a faint reminder to Lafe that he was a newly +married man and that I was prepared to do the civil thing myself, but he +took no notice.</p> + +<p>We had forgotten all about our friend of the mathematical propensities, +when he appeared suddenly beside the trail.</p> + +<p>"Hello," he cried, "back already?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vining regarded the unkempt figure with composure.</p> + +<p>"Why don't we drive on?" she said. "Drive on, please."</p> + +<p>"Who's that? Who's that, I say?" The prospector advanced on the +buckboard at a shambling trot.</p> + +<p>"Please, please drive on," Mrs. Vining entreated faintly.</p> + +<p>Instead of obeying, the Mexican waited. The prospector came to the wheel +of the buckboard and peered hard at Mrs. Vining. She met his gaze in a +sort of horrified fascination for a moment and then turned completely +about in her seat, so that her shoulders were to him. Before we could +intervene, he seized her by the arm and commenced to drag her out. He +was mumbling as he did so.</p> + +<p>"No, I won't go," she screamed. "It wasn't my fault. I won't go. Help! +Help me!"</p> + +<p>Lafe spurred almost on top of the fellow and cut at him with a quirt. He +released his hold and dodged, and Mrs. Vining sank back into the +buckboard.</p> + +<p>"Hi, you—drive on," Johnson commanded.</p> + +<p>He made no attempt to chastise the prospector. A demented man is not +responsible and is protected of God. Such is the creed of primitive +peoples and to it Lafe held strongly. Manuel whipped the mules and we +went by the mountain prowler amid a shower of sand and pebbles. He +remained in the trail, staring after us. He shouted something and +whirled his arms at a great rate, but when Lafe cantered back, he +scurried off among the mesquite like a scared rabbit.</p> + +<p>"What an extraordinary person," said Mrs. Vining, when Johnson overtook +us. Her lips were open in a fixed smile and her skin faded yellow under +its powder.</p> + +<p>"He's harmless, ma'am," Lafe assured her. "Don't you be scared. He's +just a bit locoed. We'll go fetch him to-morrow or next day, if you say +so."</p> + +<p>"No, no," she begged. "Leave the poor creature alone."</p> + +<p>I could see her hands tremble in her lap. She seemed distrait all the +way home and as soon as Mrs. Horne had done embracing her, she retired. +Next morning, however, she was sitting on the porch and called Lafe to +her side. They talked there for an hour or two and we could hear +Johnson's soft bass laugh. When he joined me in the corrals to catch the +horses, he was looking very pleased with himself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vining spent the next three days in minute probing of range life. +At least, that is what Lafe told me she found to talk to him about. +Apparently Mrs. Horne had little sympathy for this seeking after +knowledge, for she laughed a trifle impatiently and remarked to me that +men were idiots the world over and it was none of her business.</p> + +<p>She made it her business on the third day.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you leave Lafe alone?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear Martha, I'm not running after Mr. Johnson."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, what do you find to talk about all the time? It's shameful, +Judy."</p> + +<p>"There you go again. One can't be civil to any sort of a man, but that +Puritanical conscience of yours—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, darn," said Mrs. Horne.</p> + +<p>We were treated on succeeding days to the spectacle of Lafe hovering +about Mrs. Vining like a fly above molasses paper—he knows he ought not +to be there at all, but cannot keep away. I am persuaded that a third +party could have heard all they said without embarrassment; but still, +there was Hetty. And it interfered with his work, just when he was new +to it and should have applied himself whole-heartedly. The entire +superintendence of the Anvil range fell to him, but Lafe now gave up +long trips. When he did go out, Mrs. Vining went with him on the pretext +of familiarizing herself with the country. Lafe began to assume a hint +of bravado in his bearing and was evidently flattered that he could +attract a woman of Mrs. Vining's world.</p> + +<p>"Judith," said Mrs. Horne, "if you don't let up on Lafe Johnson, I'll +tell his wife, or get Bob to give him his time."</p> + +<p>"His time? What's that?" she asked in amaze. She had just got out of bed +and was brushing her yellow hair. They could hear Johnson whistling +"Turkey in the Straw" as he went past the house.</p> + +<p>"Fire him." Her friend faced Mrs. Vining squarely. She was intensely +angry. "What do you mean by taking him out on the porch as you did last +night?"</p> + +<p>"Martha, how dare you say such a thing? You're horribly rude and—and +unkind. Why, I never thought—"</p> + +<p>"Of course you didn't," Mrs. Horne went on in a level voice. "You never +do. And you're going to tell me all that nonsense? Remember, I'm a +woman, Judy, and the woman was never born who wouldn't lie about some +things."</p> + +<p>"We're nothing but the most casual friends," said Mrs. Vining warmly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Horne stopped her with a gesture of passionate impatience. "Who +said you were anything else? Will nothing sober you? I would have +thought that Harry—"</p> + +<p>"You're cruel, Martha. Yes, you are. Will you leave me alone to dress?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, darn!" Mrs. Horne exclaimed.</p> + +<p>From that interview she came straight to me. A party of friends was +coming from the mining town for a few days, she said, and I was to meet +them at The Tanks. Among them would be Mr. Mortimer Peck, a bachelor who +managed a large copper mine. Also, on my way over, I could go around by +Hope Caņon and leave a letter for Mrs. Johnson. Perhaps I grinned. At +any rate, Mrs. Horne said: "Now, don't try to be clever, but keep your +thoughts to yourself."</p> + +<p>To my everlasting credit, be it said, I did not read that letter, +although it was unsealed. Whatever was in it, Hetty seemed dumbfounded. +For a moment I feared she would faint. She was not that sort, however. +Before I left she was bristling with energy and told me that she would +be at the ranch on my return. There was a red spot in each cheek and the +light of battle in her eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>A CLEVER WOMAN AND A MISUNDERSTANDING</h3> + + +<p>I met the train at The Tanks and drove the party to the ranch. There +were Mr. and Mrs. Prouty, a colorless pair, and the young man Peck +aforementioned. I think Prouty had once been Horne's financial backer. +When we arrived at headquarters, everybody was on the steps to welcome +them, with the big hospitality of cowland. Hetty was there, too, more +radiant than I had ever seen her.</p> + +<p>It is true that her dress suffered considerably by comparison with Mrs. +Vining's, but she had advantages which that expert lady would have given +all her aids to possess. Young Peck looked in Hetty's direction just +once, and gravitated there as by natural laws. He had met many women +like Mrs. Vining. She tried all her wiles on him and he responded gaily, +with a poise equal to her own, and then went on about his business. This +business appeared to concern Hetty.</p> + +<p>Shame on the graceless woman!—she had not been married five months and +here she was giving open encouragement to a man who had seen too many +sides of life for anybody's good. Yet Mrs. Horne did not chide her. +Indeed, she watched the progress of events with undisguised pleasure.</p> + +<p>The same cannot be said for Lafe. First he seemed at a loss, then dazed. +After that he sulked. It was noticeable that he was absentminded now +when Mrs. Vining cooed to him, and appeared to give ear more to what +Hetty was saying to the mining man at the other side of the room. Peck's +manner was joyous and eager. There was much merriment in their corner.</p> + +<p>The boss was very gloomy as he helped me at the stables that night. It +would appear that Mrs. Horne planned a ride to the Wolf place on the +morrow and he grumbled that he supposed it would be just his luck to +draw Mrs. Vining for the entire day. It was not for me to remind him he +had seemed sufficiently satisfied with this arrangement on other +occasions.</p> + +<p>By dint of maneuvering her horse next morning, Mrs. Vining enticed Peck +to her assistance. However, on perceiving that Hetty was riding off with +me, Mr. Peck utilized his privileges of guest to call out to Lafe: "I +say, Johnson, you know more about these things than I do? Will you fix +this girth for Mrs. Vining?" Upon which he loped away after Hetty.</p> + +<p>Throughout that ride I kept far ahead of the procession, driving a +pack-mule that carried our provisions. The brute was stubborn and gave +trouble, persisting in efforts to scrape off its burden under every +tree; but they were troubles more easily handled than those I suspected +Mr. Johnson to have laid up for himself.</p> + +<p>The Wolf place is a heavenly retreat in a brown, stern land. The day was +warm, and old man Horne, who thought a good deal of his comfort, +proposed that we wait until sundown before starting for home. Everybody +was agreeable except, perhaps, Lafe, and he said nothing. He spent the +entire afternoon in wake of Mrs. Vining—such a very evident victim, +though, that she gave up in disgust and went to sit beside Mrs. Horne +and the Proutys. Lafe affected not to watch Hetty and Peck, who were +gathering wild flowers and behaving like two children released from +school.</p> + +<p>It was dark when we went home. As before, I was assigned to the mule. +Next came old man Horne and Mrs. Prouty, his wife and Mr. Prouty; then +Mrs. Vining and Lafe; and last—very far behind—rode the mining +engineer and Hetty. We had gone about five miles when Lafe mumbled some +excuse to Mrs. Vining and went back.</p> + +<p>It happened that Peck had just reached out to take a flower from Hetty's +hand. They had been tossing them about all evening. I grant you there +was no occasion for this move, but these are the facts. Let us assume +that Hetty never divined his purpose. He seized her wrist and was +drawing her towards him when Lafe arrived. Hetty jerked free. Peck +laughed.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead with Miz Horne," Lafe ordered. It was the primal man speaking +to the woman who belonged to him. "You wait here, Peck. We'll settle +this thing right now."</p> + +<p>"Don't be an ass—"</p> + +<p>"Lafe!" Hetty protested. She was flurried and much frightened, for never +before had she seen him really angry. She brought her horse against his, +so that they could see each other plainly. There must have been signs of +weakening in him, for she suddenly flicked her reins upon his riding +boot and said: "Perhaps this'll teach you."</p> + +<p>"Teach me what?" asked Lafe uncertainly.</p> + +<p>"Never mind. You ask Mrs. Horne. She'll tell you all about it."</p> + +<p>Peck had drawn near. He entertained fears for Mrs. Johnson, but none for +himself. When he heard this, he laughed. He was disappointed, but he had +seen a lot of the world.</p> + +<p>"So that's it," said Peck. "You little rascal."</p> + +<p>He pinched Hetty lightly on the cheek, but Lafe did not object. Instead, +he looked rather sheepish and drew alongside his wife in proper +humility. At a word from her they galloped to the front, passed the +others of the party, and took charge of the pack-animal. Peck lighted a +cigar and joined Prouty. He was smiling and seemed not at all put out.</p> + +<p>I fell back to ride with old man Horne. Hetty and Lafe were far in the +lead, going at a long lope and beating the mule joyously with a rope-end +when it lagged in its pace. She threw a flower at him and he caught it +and stuck it inside the bosom of his shirt.</p> + +<p>Old man Horne departed at dawn on some cow business, and when his wife +went to bed that night, she left injunctions that she was on no account +to be disturbed before eleven in the morning. Yet at midnight she was +wakened by a knock at her door.</p> + +<p>"Wha-what—who's there?" she cried.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vining padded into the room in her bare feet and crawled into bed +beside her friend, snuggling against her shoulder. It was black in the +room and the older woman winked solemnly at the wall. She waited with +patience for the other to speak her mind.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't sleep," said Mrs. Vining.</p> + +<p>"I could."</p> + +<p>"Martha, I've been so catty."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have," said Mrs. Horne stoutly.</p> + +<p>"Well, you needn't tell me like that. I'm sure there was nothing to make +all this—"</p> + +<p>"Don't let's go over all that again, Judy. Why did you do it? That's +what I want to know. The whole thing was ridiculous."</p> + +<p>"Because I did—that's why. And one has to have <i>some</i> amusement out +here."</p> + +<p>"Well! that <i>is</i> nice."</p> + +<p>"You know I didn't mean it that way, Martha."</p> + +<p>There was silence, so long that Mrs. Horne thought her friend must be +sleeping. Gradually she became aware that she was crying.</p> + +<p>"Judy, what's the matter, dear?" She drew the younger woman closer and +patted her in motherly fashion.</p> + +<p>"No-nothing. She's—she's so pretty and I'm getting—getting old. +Martha, it's lonely. I can't stand it. I'm only thirty-four and all +alone. I'm afraid to look ahead. Think of all the dreadful years. You +can't blame me for—sometimes I think I'll—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Horne comforted her as she would have comforted a daughter. She was +thinking intently as she soothed. Presently she asked: "Judy, have you +ever heard from Harry?"</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"Don't you know where he is?"</p> + +<p>She felt Mrs. Vining's body stiffen.</p> + +<p>"No—that is—no, I'm not sure. I don't know."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Horne cleared her throat and offered the sort of consolation we are +apt to accord our friends.</p> + +<p>"You know, Judy, dear, what everybody said when Harry left. Of course, I +knew it was all his own fault and his drinking. I never did believe what +people said—"</p> + +<p>"No, of course you didn't," said Mrs. Vining, with a trace of +bitterness.</p> + +<p>They fell silent again. At last Mrs. Vining moved.</p> + +<p>"She's so sweet," she murmured. Shortly afterwards she kissed Mrs. Horne +and rose to go to her own room.</p> + +<p>"Stay here, Judy. You won't bother me."</p> + +<p>"No, but you'll bother me. You snore dreadfully."</p> + +<p>"Judy, that's a lie," Mrs. Horne cried after her.</p> + +<p>By Hetty's orders, Lafe accompanied us to The Tanks when Mrs. Vining +departed. A truly womanly stab, this, in victory. And the Burro express +bore Mrs. Vining away, the conductor winking at Lafe from the platform +of the last car, his countenance sad and composed. We watched him take +his cap off in order to mop his brow and Mrs. Vining waved her glove at +us. Then we turned our horses about. Mrs. Horne shed a few tears and +instructed Manuel to whip the team, lest she be late home for supper.</p> + +<p>The Burro express crawled away up the valley. At a point six miles from +The Tanks, an unkempt man with matted hair flung a stone through the +window of the last car. Later I came on him on a mesa and he was +counting the tops of the hills.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>RECONCILIATION—MRS. VINING EXPERIENCES A CHANGE OF HEART</h3> + + +<p>We were to see more of our mathematician who haunted The Hatter.</p> + +<p>On a day, the rider who brought our mail twice weekly, delivered a fat +letter to Mrs. Horne. She read it with open mouth and called her husband +into consultation behind closed doors. Shortly afterwards they summoned +Lafe, and in about an hour, he sent for me.</p> + +<p>"I've got to go fetch that locoed prospector," he confided. "Will you +help?"</p> + +<p>"Why not get some of the boys to round him up?" I objected, for the mail +had brought some personal business that required thought.</p> + +<p>"They might be rough with him. No, sir; we've got to bring him in +gentle, Dan. It's the queerest story I ever done heard. Say, don't women +do queer things? I swan, I can't figure 'em."</p> + +<p>All of the afternoon and next morning we rode the slopes of The Hatter. +Then suddenly we saw him. The prospector was catching grasshoppers. He +made to run as we approached, but Lafe spurred his horse and headed him +off. Seeing escape barred, he stood still and waited, not without +dignity—if a man who is clutching a fist-full of grasshoppers can +possess dignity.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Say, you speak French, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I can speak five languages, sir," said the prospector pompously. And he +began to patter German.</p> + +<p>"Well," Lafe resumed—and I could see he was impressed—"well, sir, +there's a guy at the ranch who can't speak English very good. We want +somebody to tell him what the ol' man wants—ol' Horne of the Anvil. If +you'll come down—"</p> + +<p>"I shall be very pleased."</p> + +<p>"Good," Johnson said in surprise. "We've got some right good liquor +there and I thought—"</p> + +<p>The prospector laughed and looked at him cunningly. He would not mount +behind either of us, being suspicious even of the offer, but trudged +between, occasionally breaking into rambling discourses on natural +history and associated topics—such as the edible qualities of +grasshoppers, if properly stewed. It took us five hours to reach the +ranch, and our guest was then so tired that he readily acceded to the +suggestion that we eat and sleep before meeting the gentleman who spoke +only French.</p> + +<p>Next morning, by dint of impressing on him the importance of the +transaction and the high social status of the man he was to converse +with, Lafe persuaded the prospector to bathe and don new clothes. They +belonged to Horne and sagged all over his emaciated body, but he seemed +rather proud of his appearance. Also, once started, he consented to let +Dave, the cook, cut his hair and beard.</p> + +<p>At noon I was on the porch when a buckboard drove up, and a man and a +woman got out. The woman was heavily veiled. Both were hurried inside by +Mrs. Horne and I was sent down to the bunkhouse to carry word to Lafe +and his captive.</p> + +<p>"That feller who just come in is a specialist," Lafe whispered on the +way to the house. "They come off the Burro express this morning."</p> + +<p>The prospector was ushered into Horne's office, a bare room facing the +corrals. There a well-groomed man of affable manners met us and +courteously addressed him in French. They talked for a moment. The +prospector never let his gaze wander from the other's face.</p> + +<p>"I say," he broke out abruptly in English, "isn't your name Toole?"</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"Harvard '87?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"That was my class."</p> + +<p>The other affected to search his memory. He wrinkled his brow and pursed +up his mouth.</p> + +<p>"I remember you now perfectly. You're Vining."</p> + +<p>They shook hands. Then Vining drew back as though assailed by a +suspicion, and his glance flickered from one to the other of us like +that of an animal at bay.</p> + +<p>"They said you couldn't speak—what does this mean, anyway? You're +trying—"</p> + +<p>"Steady, old man," said the doctor.</p> + +<p>The door to the sitting-room off the office opened, and Mrs. Vining came +in. She went straight to the prospector, with her hands out pleadingly. +Had she wavered, heaven knows what might not have happened.</p> + +<p>"Harry!" she said.</p> + +<p>What transpired after that I cannot say. Lafe and I found ourselves +outside, and there the doctor joined us.</p> + +<p>Not long after sunrise, Johnson himself drove a light, covered wagon in +front of the porch steps, with me on the seat beside him. Our orders +were to catch the Burro express with our guests.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vining came first, the prospector holding fast to her arm. His eyes +were steady and he appeared perfectly rational, but uneasy and nervous, +and he still shambled in his walk. Just behind them was the specialist, +brisk and confident. He smiled on us triumphantly.</p> + +<p>Before Mrs. Vining got into the vehicle, Mrs. Horne surged down the +steps impulsively and threw her arms about her neck and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"Judy, I'm so—you've made me feel so—you're such a good—"</p> + +<p>"Hush," whispered the woman of the yellow hair, and all the gay +affectation was gone from her. "Let us be thankful he's all right. If +he'll only stay—good-by, dear—we can only hope and pray God."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>LAFE HELPS A DESERTER</h3> + + +<p>After this experience, Johnson settled to hard work for Horne, and hard +work on a range means unremitting toil. When everything moved smoothly, +he would act as Horne's trail boss. At this time the cowman was buying +large herds in Mexico, principally yearling steers and cows and calves. +He would throw these cattle across the line and pasture them until a +rising market offered the profits he had set his mind on. Success had so +puffed up Horne that nothing less than sixty per cent would tempt his +investment.</p> + +<p>At the setting-in of winter again, Lafe took his outfit far down below +Arizpe and purchased a herd of nine hundred head. Then the American +authorities declared a quarantine and the cattle could not be brought up +until it was lifted. Johnson started back. His party camped on the San +Pedro, and just before they crawled under the blankets, they were joined +by a native outfit. Of course the Mexicans had no beef or anything to +eat. The boss gave them a quarter from the yearling they had killed that +evening.</p> + +<p>Five of them began to shoot dice on a saddle blanket in a decent, +gentlemanly manner—two of the cowboys, the Chinese cook, a Yaqui +vaquero and a Mexican horse thief from the Cuitaca valley. The boss +smoked and watched the game. Another man lay under the wagon with his +collar bone broken and at times his plaints became a nuisance.</p> + +<p>"Come a eight," the Celestial invoked. "Heap bum thlow. Me ketchum soon. +You wait."</p> + +<p>Presently they became aware that somebody was ministering to their +injured companion. His moans ceased. "Feel any better, now?" a voice +asked. There followed murmurings and a movement as if the newcomer were +easing the sufferer's position.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "if you can swear that way, you shouldn't ought to be +dying. Keep it up. You're doing fine."</p> + +<p>A tall man walked into the group around the lantern. He surveyed each +face in turn. The Yaqui was blowing on the dice to bring luck and was +fearfully disgusted at the interruption. Addressing himself to Johnson, +as though somebody had told him that he was the leader, the stranger +said: "Hello! Got anything to eat?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," Lafe answered readily. "Here, you, Charlie—go get this +gentleman some cold beef and bread. Drag it now; ketchum quick. Fly at +it, pardner."</p> + +<p>The visitor was ravenous and bolted the beef in hunks. Lafe judged that +he had walked into camp, but refrained from asking why, although the +man is poor indeed who cannot obtain a horse to ride in that country. +Bedding was scarce, for they were traveling light, and the best that +Johnson could offer was that he should double up with the Chinaman. +Their guest appeared no whit abashed by the prospect.</p> + +<p>"Well, me for the hay," he said at once. "I'm all in. Lordy, hark to my +joints creak. I bet I've footed it a million miles through the sand, Mr. +Johnson. Your name's Johnson, ain't it? Mine's Wilkins. Say, if this +here Chink snores, you'll be burying a cook in the morning, sure as +you're alive."</p> + +<p>They headed for the Border at daybreak. It was a long thirty miles, and +Lafe impressed a horse and the injured man's saddle for Wilkins' use. He +noted that Wilkins' overalls and shirt were trying to forsake him and +that his toes were taking the air, so when he perceived Charlie +measuring him with a comparative eye, in which lurked a gleam of +satisfaction, he sent the cook sharply about his business. Lafe held +that superiority of race should ever be maintained.</p> + +<p>For the most part they rode in silence, as men do at the beginning of +day. Their eyes were heavy with sleep. Wilkins seemed sullen and gave no +explanation of his presence in that region. He sat stiffly erect in the +saddle with his right arm hanging straight at his side. A cowboy or a +native westerner crooks his elbows and lets them jog.</p> + +<p>"He's a soldier," Lafe concluded, and because he entertained an +undefined contempt for soldiers, he trotted ten yards ahead of his guest +throughout the morning.</p> + +<p>The sun was high when they sighted a white stone monument on a ridge +below the Huachucas. A wire fence ran past it. They could see it stretch +for miles and miles in a straight line. On their side of the fence was +Mexico. Beyond lay the United States.</p> + +<p>They reached a gate. Johnson got down and held it open for his men to +pass through. Wilkins stopped and remained a dozen yards within the +Mexican Border.</p> + +<p>"I don't reckon I'll go on with you," said he; "I'll just stick around +here for a spell. Here's your horse, Mr. Johnson. Much obliged. He's +sure some horse."</p> + +<p>"All right," Lafe answered, and ordered one of his men to throw the +horse in with the saddle bunch, which they were driving loosely ahead of +them. It struck him as curious that a man should voluntarily go afoot in +that unsettled mountain country, but he never abandoned the tenet that a +man's business is his own. Consequently he showed no surprise, nor did +his men, but they moved off northward, leaving Wilkins gazing after them +from the far side of the fence.</p> + +<p>"Look!" said a cowboy. "What's that girl doing here?"</p> + +<p>A young woman was fording the river some distance to their left, just +below the Palomino. Johnson recognized her mount and made as if to hail +her. Then a sudden remembrance of Wilkins waiting beyond the gate +caused him to pull up. He grinned and grew solemn abruptly, because she +was a friend of his wife's, and her brother worked for Horne.</p> + +<p>Of course he told Hetty all about it on his return home and of course +she refused to see the matter from his standpoint at all and exhibited +the liveliest sympathy and understanding of the case. Lafe need not try +to tell her that she was indiscreet; Mary Lou Hardin could afford to be +indiscreet. Hetty had never known a sweeter, nicer girl. To this Lafe +grunted. He had not much faith in women's estimates of their own sex and +he considered that any girl who would go to meet a soldier who dare not +enter his own country were better off under careful surveillance.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" cried Hetty. "I tell you it's all right. Anything Mary Lou +does must be all right. I'll ride over to-morrow and see her. I bet she +tells me all about it."</p> + +<p>When Johnson returned to the Caņon next night from a day of +horse-breaking, he found Hetty simply bursting with news. Yes, Mary Lou +had told her all about it. Wilkins had been a trooper—a corporal or a +colonel or something—and he and Mary Lou had been sweethearts for over +a year. But Mr. Hardin would not hear of her marrying a soldier, so Mr. +Wilkins had done the only thing possible under the circumstances—he had +gone over into Mexico to make a fortune in the mines. It would appear, +however, that something ailed the price of copper. The company closed +down one of its shafts and Mr. Wilkins was released. He had grown lonely +for Mary Lou and homesick for his own country. Wasn't it noble of him? +The whole tangle was perfectly clear to Hetty.</p> + +<p>"Noble, my foot!" said Lafe. "The feller's a deserter. And here I done +lent him a horse!"</p> + +<p>That was not all Hetty had to say. She had a clever scheme, concocted by +herself and Mary Lou while they mingled their tears over this recital of +self-sacrifice. It was this—Wilkins wanted to come back. If he did so +without preliminary negotiation, they would be apt to lock him in a cell +and then he would not be able to see Mary Lou at all. Wasn't it inhuman? +There were some silly rules or regulations Mr. Wilkins had overlooked +when he departed, and Mary Lou said that the commandant would probably +not see the thing in the right light and would give no consideration +whatever to their feelings. Mary Lou was sure that the commandant had a +pick on Mr. Wilkins.</p> + +<p>"I reckon he'd ought to give this here Wilkins a better job and present +him with a purse, hey?" Lafe sneered. "I reckon they'd ought to make him +boss of all them soldiers. Then him and Mary Lou could get married and +everything would be lovely. Yes, I reckon that's the nicest way to treat +a deserter."</p> + +<p>"Why, Lafe," Hetty remonstrated, "don't you see? He just left to make +enough money to marry Mary Lou. He did it all for her. Wasn't it grand +of him?"</p> + +<p>The boss threw up his hands and walked off to the spring, where he could +smoke and clear his brain of the cobwebs of sentiment. He was not to be +allowed to dismiss the matter so lightly. When she had him in the house, +Hetty pounced upon him again. Hardly had he taken a chair, than she came +to sit on his knee and began stroking his hair. Lafe would not have had +a citizen of Badger see this ridiculous performance for all the wealth +stored in the depths of the mountains, but he nevertheless submitted to +it with a sort of reluctant enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"Mary Lou and I," said Hetty, "we thought that if you would speak to Mr. +Horne, he would speak to that soldier man."</p> + +<p>"Would he, now? And what has ol' Horne got to say to that general, or +whatever he is?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you baby, don't you see? Mr. Horne and that man who runs the fort +are friends. Now, Mary Lou and I thought that if Mr. Horne would only +say something nice about Wilkins, he'd let him go. Don't you think he +would?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure. He'd pin a medal on that feller. It's like he'd put it on +with a sword, though, to make it stick."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lafe," Hetty said, almost in tears.</p> + +<p>Lafe groaned and gave up the fight. It would be utterly useless, he told +her—who ever heard of such a proposition made to serious men? But, of +course, if Hetty wanted her husband to make an idiot of himself, he +supposed he would have to do so.</p> + +<p>"It won't be much trouble," Hetty coaxed. She added: "There, I knew my +boy would help me."</p> + +<p>Her boy approached the task with much misgiving and very shamefacedly. +He was not a skillful pleader at any time, being accustomed to take what +he wanted, instead of asking for it. As a result, old Horne bellowed: +"Haw, haw," and slapped his leg and rolled about in his chair, gurgling +that Lafe would be the death of him yet. Then Mrs. Horne came into the +room.</p> + +<p>"What's this all about?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>Johnson told her and withdrew. The cowman was still chortling.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>AND DISCOVERS HETTY'S BROTHER</h3> + + +<p>However, when he joined Lafe at the stables that afternoon, he looked a +very chastened individual. Had Lafe seen the gradual transition in mood, +from huge merriment to exasperation and then protest and resentful +surrender, he would have understood better. Horne volunteered nothing of +what had passed, so he went to Mrs. Horne. That lady informed him that +her husband would use his best endeavor with the commandant. There +appeared to be no question in her mind that this was the only course +open to him, and Johnson, who had come prepared for a few timely jokes +on the matter, muttered: "Yes, ma'am, I sure am obliged," and walked +away like a chidden child.</p> + +<p>Two weeks later he moved his outfit south again. And at their old camp +on the San Pedro, Wilkins walked in on them. His advent was not +unexpected, but Lafe found it impossible to give him more than frigid +civility. The man had been recreant to his trust and he was going to get +out of it through the intercession of women; that was enough to damn him +in the eyes of Lafe and his kind.</p> + +<p>"Howdy," said Wilkins unconcernedly. "I'm going back."</p> + +<p>"So I done heard."</p> + +<p>"I got the letter here," Wilkins continued, fumbling in his shirt bosom. +"He says if I go back, they'll let me off easy on account of previous +good conduct."</p> + +<p>"Huh-huh. Sure," said the boss grimly, "I'll let you have a horse and +you can ride with us in the morning. We start at four o'clock, +remember."</p> + +<p>A sergeant of cavalry and two troopers sat their horses beside the big +corrals where the custom men inspect the cattle, when the cavalcade +arrived. They led a spare mount. At sight of them, Wilkins left the +party and loped ahead. The soldiers waited for him on the other side. He +went unhesitatingly through the gate—jubilant, alert and smiling, like +a girl going to her first dance. The sergeant advanced and Wilkins +extended his hand. The soldier ignored it.</p> + +<p>"Here's your horse, Johnson," said Wilkins. "You've been mighty decent. +Muchas gracias. All right, Osborne. I'm ready."</p> + +<p>"Hold on," Lafe cut in; "say, wait a minute. What's the matter, anyhow? +What's it all about? I want to get the rights of this."</p> + +<p>"A deserter, Mr. Johnson," said the sergeant. "He used to be in Troop F. +Ran off, he did. Some post exchange funds went, too."</p> + +<p>"That's a lie," Wilkins shouted; "I never touched a cent. And you know +it better'n anybody else, Osborne."</p> + +<p>"We've been chasing him a year, Mr. Johnson."</p> + +<p>Wilkins was watching Lafe much as a dog would watch his master to see +whether he was angry. "I'd like to talk to you a minute, if you're +agreeable, Mr. Johnson." The sergeant nodded acquiescence, and he led +Lafe aside. "It's a wonder you'll speak to me after that. Osborne, +there—he wouldn't shake hands."</p> + +<p>"I'm not a soldier," the boss said guardedly.</p> + +<p>"And I'm not a thief. You believe that, don't you? It was the rotten +sameness of the life. Oh, you know how it is—and Mary Lou +waiting—well, I hated the post, and it wasn't long before I grew to +hate the boys. What'd you say? Sure, they're all right. But when you're +cooped up with the same crowd day in and day out, the best men on earth +will soon hate one another. You ain't never done it, so you don't know. +Nothing to see but those ol' mountains, solemn as death all the time." +He broke off, striving to compose himself. "See that high one yonder? I +swear I've seen it nodding at me. Yes, sir, just like this. And Mary Lou +and her father—oh, I got afraid of those hills—honest to God, I did. +And the boys—why even your cowboys look down on us. And Mary Lou—so I +beat it and swore I'd never come back."</p> + +<p>"But you did."</p> + +<p>"That's the queer part of it"—he laughed without mirth—"I can't +rightly explain that myself. Mary Lou—no, I'd have come back anyhow. I +was going dippy down there among the yellow-bellies. And Mary Lou, +she—"</p> + +<p>He told Lafe that he had wandered four times to the line, merely to get +a glimpse of the country. The air this side of the border fence was +different to the other; he was positive of that, although the boundary +consisted of some strands of barbed wire. Once a corporal, returning +from Naco to the post, had come upon him a mile within American +territory. What was he doing there? Oh, just looking round. He had taken +back with him a prickly-pear plant. The corporal had almost caught +Wilkins that time, but he managed to put the fence between them. On the +other side he could twiddle his fingers at the corporal, who dared not +pursue.</p> + +<p>Johnson was puzzled and said so. "What were you hanging round here for? +With a good job at the mines, you had a chance to start all over again."</p> + +<p>"That's what I'm a-telling you, consarn it. With the whole wide world to +wander in, I kept sneaking back to this fence like a sick pup. Ain't it +hell?" The aching sadness of a very homesick man had him fast. He stared +up the San Pedro valley and drew in a slow, deep breath. His voice was +unsteady when he tried to resume.</p> + +<p>"And Mary Lou—I sent her messages, and she kept saying—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Lafe, "if you're going to cry over it, I'm off. Adios."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a bloody fool. Hey, wait a minute, Johnson."</p> + +<p>The escort could not be kept waiting all night, the sergeant shouted.</p> + +<p>"Keep your shirt on, Osborne. I'll have to be quiet long enough from +to-day."</p> + +<p>"About three years, I'm thinking," the sergeant said gloatingly.</p> + +<p>Wilkins let the remark pass. He was gazing at two riders who were +advancing down the lane towards the corrals. "Why—no, it can't be. Yes, +it is. It's Mary Lou."</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, Mary Lou; and Lafe's wife was with her. Johnson was not +especially pleased to see her there, but he wisely refrained from +comment. The two women approached the group. Mary Lou shook hands +gravely with Wilkins and Lafe was glad that he did not try to kiss her, +or betray any sentimental weakness. The pair accepted the situation +soberly and Mary Lou called to her friend to come forward.</p> + +<p>"This," she said shyly, "is Bill. Shake hands with Mrs. Johnson, Bill."</p> + +<p>"How do you—Bob, Bob! It's you," Hetty squealed.</p> + +<p>The manner of Mrs. Johnson's introduction was this—she jumped her horse +close to the deserter and clasped him in her arms. He was equally +fervent on his part. He held her tight and cried: "Hetty! Little Hetty."</p> + +<p>Lafe experienced a not unnatural curiosity. He thrust between them and +wanted to know who the gentleman might be who seemed so fond of his +wife, and, glaring at that unabashed young woman, inquired what she +meant by it. The troopers were grinning. The sergeant looked annoyed.</p> + +<p>"Why, Lafe dear, this is Bob."</p> + +<p>"So I done heard you say," said Lafe. "Bob who? What're you hugging him +for?"</p> + +<p>"He's my brother."</p> + +<p>The boss's tongue clove to the roof of his mouth and he sat dumbly, +looking at his wife. Mary Lou and Hetty were patting Wilkins' hand and +making much of him. They did not seem to appreciate the fact that he was +an outcast and a prisoner, but treated him as if they had every reason +to be proud of this reunion.</p> + +<p>"So your name ain't Wilkins? It's Ferrier?" Lafe said slowly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lafe, we must get him off sure."</p> + +<p>Johnson silenced her and turned his back on the deserter. Curtly he told +Hetty that the escort was waiting. He ordered her to come with him and +to bring Mary Lou.</p> + +<p>"Tell Bob good-by," she insisted.</p> + +<p>"So long," said the boss grudgingly.</p> + +<p>"No, that won't do. You've got to shake hands with him."</p> + +<p>Lafe glanced at her radiant face and what he was about to say never came +out. He stuck out his long arm towards Wilkins, who grasped his hand +eagerly.</p> + +<p>The misery of indecision had dropped from the deserter like a cloak that +is shed. He laughed encouragingly over his shoulder at Hetty, as he +turned to leave.</p> + +<p>"Did you expect me to holler, Johnson?" he asked. "Not much! Why, this +is going home, to me."</p> + +<p>"Ready?" Osborne cried.</p> + +<p>"And when I get out, I'll be able to look you boys in the face, too. Not +you, Osborne. You can't look me in the eye right now. Pshaw! What is a +year in a lifetime?"</p> + +<p>"Quit your preaching. Come on."</p> + +<p>"Adios, Mary Lou. Adios, Hetty. So long, Johnson. I'll see you soon."</p> + +<p>"Guard and prisoner—'tention! Fours—left about—march!"</p> + +<p>They swung around and made northwest, Wilkins in their midst. He was +making his horse prance and was humming "Dixie." Once he looked back and +waved his arm in a wide gesture towards the Huachucas, towering on the +left; to the right, the straggling Mules range; and the San Pedro valley +between, stretching away for eighty miles.</p> + +<p>"What about this little ol' country now, hey?" he shouted. "What do you +think of her, hey? How about this air? Lord!"</p> + +<p>Hetty waved at him, but Mary Lou, who had drawn out a handkerchief to do +the same, wept into it instead. They started slowly homeward, Lafe +ambling along in gloomy quiet. Hetty did not perceive his mood, being +too uplifted over her brother's recovery to be cognizant of lesser +things. She ranged beside her husband. There were tears on her cheeks, +but she was smiling and humming "Dixie."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it just like heaven? Here I haven't seen him in six years. Just +think of finding him like this. Oh, I never thought I could be so +happy."</p> + +<p>"You bet," the boss said scathingly. "This is simply great, this is. +He's gone to jail, I suppose you know? And I've got to get him out, I +reckon."</p> + +<p>"You can do that all right," Hetty declared—she had a vague idea that +Lafe administered the entire law of the land, the High justice and the +Low—"What does the jail matter, anyhow? We've got him back."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's all right now," Mary Lou agreed and dried her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw," said Lafe, settling to the ride. "What's the use?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<h3>GREAT EXPECTATIONS IN JOHNSON FAMILY</h3> + + +<p>"Say, Dan."</p> + +<p>"Huh-huh?"</p> + +<p>"Did you ever feel kind of sudden like you'd done something before?" +Lafe inquired.</p> + +<p>It was a month later and we were riding through the dusk up the Caņon +towards his home. This was too abstruse.</p> + +<p>"I mean," he explained, "sometimes when you're at some place or looking +at something, haven't you had a quick idea that you'd done the same +thing in the same place a long time ago? Haven't you ever felt that way, +Dan?"</p> + +<p>"Often."</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said he, "what's the reason?"</p> + +<p>"It's probably a recurring impression—a remembrance of an act performed +years ago."</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "No-oo. It ain't that. I ain't never rode up here +with you before. This is the first time me and you have been here +together, ain't it? Yet I swear it struck me just now that, so long ago +I can't call to mind when, me and you were trotting along just like +this."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we were chums in a previous existence. There is the +transmigration of souls, you know."</p> + +<p>Lafe answered impatiently that the phenomenon could not be explained on +any such grounds and expressed surprise that a man of my seeming sense +would credit such theories. It seemed to rankle in him strangely. He +grumbled to himself for a considerable distance, and was so visibly put +out that I switched the talk.</p> + +<p>"How's Bob getting along?" I ventured.</p> + +<p>It proved an unfortunate choice of topics. Ferrier had been given a year +in the cells by the commandant of the post, and then Horne had gone to +his succor. And although the major had vowed to high heaven that no +deserter would ever be dealt with leniently by him, he had yielded +finally to the point of cutting down his punishment. It is true that +there were many extenuating circumstances, and Ferrier seemed so sincere +in his desire to atone that his commander was favorably inclined. So it +ended by Hetty's brother escaping with thirty days' confinement. Then, +anxious to get him away from old associations, and comrades who knew the +mistakes of his past, Johnson arranged through Horne to pay for his +discharge.</p> + +<p>All this had he done. Indeed, Lafe had labored unceasingly for his +brother-in-law. Yet he railed against him, even while he aided. Like +many men who never shirk from helping when it is most needed, Johnson +could never hear the object of his benefactions mentioned without +falling a victim to spleen. I should have avoided all reference to +Ferrier.</p> + +<p>"There's a brother-in-law for you," he snorted. "Yes, sir, he's sure a +treasure. I no sooner get him out of the cells for deserting, than off +he goes and—guess what he wants to do now?"</p> + +<p>"Borrow some money?"</p> + +<p>"You've hit it. Yes, sir, you've nailed it dead to rights. Here, after +all the trouble me and ol' Horne took with that general at the Fort, +that there feller Ferrier asks me to stake him, just as cool as you'd +ask for a match. Say, have you got one? I'm plumb out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said I, "a man has to stand by his family."</p> + +<p>"He ain't my family."</p> + +<p>"He's Hetty's brother."</p> + +<p>"Sure. He's Hetty's brother and I ain't allowed to forget it, either. I +tell you what, Dan—when a man marries a woman, he marries all her kin, +too."</p> + +<p>With which bitter reflection Johnson borrowed some tobacco and rolled a +cigarette. After a space he remarked that Ferrier planned to settle on a +quarter-section within the Horne range, and that he required three +hundred dollars to make a start. Mary Lou Hardin was included in this +scheme of settlement, said Lafe, the idea being that two could live as +cheaply as one and that Bob would never amount to a row of beans unless +anchored and domesticated. He had nothing but scorn for such adolescent +reasoning.</p> + +<p>"When I think of the way a young feller cares for a girl, I want to +laugh," he said. "Pshaw, it's all mush. Nothing but talk, and those kids +make the talk do instead of work. And if it ain't mush, it's wind. I +tell you what—a man and a woman don't rightly care for each other, Dan, +until they're married."</p> + +<p>I stared at him. "Is that so? Well, well. Suppose they only wake up then +and find they don't care at all. That would be fierce."</p> + +<p>"Sure," he answered gravely. "It's a gamble. Why don't you take a +chance?"</p> + +<p>"That's my business."</p> + +<p>"Well, you needn't get all swelled up about it. Hetty was saying to me +only the other day—say, what're you so red in the face about?"</p> + +<p>"You and Hetty stick to housekeeping and let me run my own affairs," I +retorted hotly. Their presumption passed all bounds. "Whenever a man's +friends get married, they begin picking out a girl for him right off. I +suppose misery likes company."</p> + +<p>Johnson chuckled and said: "All right, let's forget it." It was very +apparent in what channel his thoughts moved, however, for he would keep +turning on me a broad smile.</p> + +<p>"What good are bachelors, anyhow?" he demanded. "They'd ought for to tax +'em heavy."</p> + +<p>"You talk like a mothers' meeting, Lafe."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've got the rights of this thing, anyhow. Bachelors make me +think of what Frank Hastings said once about a mule—up on the Plains, +this was—'without pride of ancestry or hope of posterity,' Frank said."</p> + +<p>"Huh! Frank read that somewhere."</p> + +<p>For an hour we were silent. Night closed down over the Caņon. The +mountains seemed to take a long breath and settle to rest. It was warm, +and so we were hopeful of rain within a week, or perhaps two. Our ponies +swashed the dust lazily side by side, and we said no word, for the +coming of dark in our country will still speech in anyone but a clod or +a fool.</p> + +<p>A Jack-o'-Lantern rose in front of us, twinkling like a diamond against +black velvet. It held steady for a moment, then flitted eerily in +darting curves, soaring high until it appeared a tiny star. Our folk say +that little Jack is a lost soul, doomed to haunt the place of his +earthly woes; but I have a pleasanter theory.</p> + +<p>"Look at him," said Johnson in a tone almost reverent. "That there shiny +feller's been following of me at nights now something ridiculous. If I +ain't out on the range, I swan he comes loafing round the house. +Honest."</p> + +<p>"I like 'em."</p> + +<p>"You do? I wonder what they are?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you mean to say you don't know? I'm surprised at you, Lafe. +They're human souls seeking a lodging."</p> + +<p>He exploded into laughter. "Is that so?" said he. Facing to the front +again, he fell to musing. "Is that so?" he repeated. "You're sure a wolf +on souls, Dan."</p> + +<p>Hetty was on the porch to receive us. With her was Ferrier, big and +straight and indolent. She bade me welcome with frank heartiness as an +old friend, but there was distinct coldness in her greeting of Lafe. I +could not but observe it. When he would have kissed her, she turned her +cheek to him; she submitted even to this with evident reluctance. A +tiff—a doting couple's tiff—I concluded, and engaged Ferrier in +conversation. He had scarcely a word to say, and walked beside me so +lazily when we went to put the horses in the pasture, that my patience +was sorely taxed. That was the way with soldiers, I reflected—once a +soldier, never any good for anything else. Yet what little he uttered +contradicted this notion, for he seemed in earnest. Apparently Bob had +been doing some hard thinking and he was determined to get a foothold on +the broad, straight highway.</p> + +<p>As we were entering the house: "Oh, do be quiet. Let me alone. You worry +me half to death. A lot you care what becomes of me. Here, you're off +all day and sometimes long after dark, and I've got—"</p> + +<p>"Why, hon," Lafe was pleading, "I've got my work to do. You know I stay +home every minute I can. Ol' Horne says I'm tied to your apron strings. +What's got into you, Hetty?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing's the matter with me. For heaven's sake, shut up and let me +have a little peace. I say you don't care what becomes of me. No, you +don't. Here, I've had a splitting headache and when I tell you about it, +all you do is grin. Now, don't go and try to tell me you feel for me."</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to do? Cry on your shoulder? A man can't make a +fuss over them things, Hetty."</p> + +<p>"There you go again—making fun of me. If I was to die to-night, +nobody'd care—not even Bob. I wish I could die. You could go back to +Paula then."</p> + +<p>"Hon," said Lafe, in a choked voice.</p> + +<p>Bob wiped his feet noisily on the steps and I coughed. When we entered, +there was no trace of a dispute or of anger on Hetty's countenance. +Supper was ready and we sat down to it with grand appetites.</p> + +<p>In the morning the repair of a windmill at a water tank compelled our +setting out to Badger to purchase pipe and joints. Lafe explained the +purpose of the trip at unusual length to his wife. She listened stonily +and told him to go by all means—told him with that high air of +resignation we put on when we acquiesce in anything we are powerless to +prevent. Just as we started, Johnson tried to put his arm about her. On +being repulsed, he slowly mounted his horse.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<h3>BIRTH OF LAFE JOHNSON, JR.</h3> + + +<p>We were going down the Caņon when Hetty called after us: "Well, don't +take any bad money, you two."</p> + +<p>She stood in the doorway, wiping flour from her hands. Bob was grinning +over her shoulder. The caution must have reminded Lafe. He slapped his +hip pocket and extracted a wallet, from which he drew two soiled bills.</p> + +<p>"Here," he said, riding back, "you keep this, Hetty. I've got three +dollars in silver. That'll do me."</p> + +<p>"You're learning," was her composed comment, and she slipped the money +inside the bosom of her waist. After this agreeable exhibition of +domestic foresight, we rode down the Caņon and started across the +valley. It may be that I showed amusement.</p> + +<p>"What's hurting you?" Lafe asked; "what I done then? That's the only way +I can save money. It's right queer, Dan, but whenever I have any and get +to town, it goes like a bat out of hell."</p> + +<p>This information was wholly superfluous. "I usually have to charge my +horse's keep and my meals," I confessed.</p> + +<p>"Sure. It's in the blood, I reckon. But if me and you and all the others +don't learn to sweat a dollar, all these here new people a-coming in +from the States will take everything off'n us. Yes, sir, they'll have us +bare to the hides. Some of 'em have got the first two-bits they ever +earned."</p> + +<p>The only previous occasion on which I had seen Johnson hoard his money +was once when he hid it in the band of his hat as a safeguard against +new-found friends, and, during subsequent operations, forgot its hiding +place. Lafe had been bitterly chagrined on discovering it later, holding +himself cheated of entertainment. Assuredly his new responsibilities +were working a change of heart.</p> + +<p>"Lafe, I never knew Hetty was so pretty."</p> + +<p>"You're whistlin'," he said. An accompanying sniff signified surprise +and contempt that my recognition was so tardy. We jogged along and he +became thoughtful. Finally he asked: "Did you notice it, too?"</p> + +<p>"Notice what?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I kind of got the idea that Hetty was prettier now than she used +to was. When you said that just now, it made me think you seen it, too."</p> + +<p>I nodded earnestly. There had come a look into Hetty's eyes which caused +one to wait expectantly for a halo to appear.</p> + +<p>"But she's sort of poorly," he went on; "seems like everything I do +makes her mad. I expect everybody gets that way some time or other, +more especially if they live off by themselves where they never see no +one. Don't you reckon?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's Bob."</p> + +<p>"No-oo, I don't think so. But she does get mad about him sometimes—not +at Bob, though. Anything that lazy scamp does is all right. No, sir; at +me. She got mad because I said I wouldn't let him have that money. I +can't spare it, Dan. Honest, I can't. And she says I leave her alone too +much."</p> + +<p>"She'll soon get over that."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes she's worse'n others. Yeow, how she gives it to me some +days."</p> + +<p>We reached town in good time and put up at the Fashion, where were three +of the Anvil boys. Johnson hailed their presence with proper ceremonies, +and then drew me to one side.</p> + +<p>"Say," said he, "I've got to see the new sheriff for a minute. I'll pull +out right after dinner. What're you going to do? Stick around?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose so. Nothing else to do."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you should happen for to play pitch," he advised, "don't bid +more'n your hand's worth. Remember your weakness. Adios."</p> + +<p>Two months later we two again rode together up Hope Caņon. Bob Ferrier +was behind us and was soberly elated, for that afternoon Johnson had +loaned him three hundred dollars and I had gone security. He would wed +Mary Lou on the morrow.</p> + +<p>The sun was setting behind The Hatter as we neared the house. It was a +blissful twilight, and Lafe sang in gladness of heart.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But he chanced one day to run agin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bullet made o' lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which was harder than he bargained for,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now poor Bill is dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when they brung his body home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A barrel of tears was shed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He ended with a halloo as we topped the last rise. There was no response +or sign from the house. A puzzled look came over his face and he was +down before his horse came to a stop. He sprang through the door.</p> + +<p>"Hetty!" he shouted. "Hetty!" Then in a voice hoarse from fear: "She +ain't here. She ain't here. Hetty, where are you?"</p> + +<p>He was rushing frantically from one room to another. Ferrier was more +methodical. He found a piece of paper under a cup on the kitchen table, +which he read and handed to his brother-in-law.</p> + +<blockquote><p>I can't stand it any longer. I am going away. You'll soon get +over it. Be sure to feed the dog. Good-by.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Johnson held the penciled lines at arm's length, while I waited for him +to say something. It is my belief that he did not distinguish the words +after the first perusal. Then he began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"Why, it can't be—Hetty, she wouldn't—say, it must be a joke—what +does it mean?"</p> + +<p>Bob lifted his shoulders in a shrug he had picked up from the Mexicans. +It stung Lafe.</p> + +<p>"Where has she gone? Do you know anything about this?"</p> + +<p>"Not me. She's been mighty queer lately, Lafe. Where could she go?"</p> + +<p>We could only look at one another while we mentally debated +possibilities. Hetty had no kith or kin in this region, and the nearest +point was Badger. She could not have gone there, else we should have +passed her on the road.</p> + +<p>"Mary Lou's!" Bob exclaimed. "I'll swear that's where she's hit for."</p> + +<p>Johnson remained beside the table a moment, deep in thought. Then he +smote his hands together and an expression of relief lighted his face.</p> + +<p>"I'll go get her," he told us.</p> + +<p>We were for accompanying him to the Hardins' place, but had not gone +more than a few hundred yards when he pulled up and requested that we go +back. This matter was between him and Hetty—he said it with some +hesitation—and it were better that he go alone. So we turned back, only +to halt again.</p> + +<p>"He might need some help," was Bob's excuse. "Supposing she's sick. What +do you say if we trail him?"</p> + +<p>"Come on."</p> + +<p>It was now after nine o'clock and there was small probability of Johnson +perceiving us. Yet we kept far in rear lest he hear our horses. We had +proceeded perhaps a mile when he amazed us by riding back. Lafe was +going at a lope and he did not pause. To our utter consternation he took +no notice of our presence, but went by at a clatter and swerved to the +right up a narrow ravine.</p> + +<p>"He's crazy," said Ferrier. "He must have gone out of his head. Let's +drift."</p> + +<p>"Wait, Lafe. Wait!" I bellowed.</p> + +<p>We jabbed with the spurs and went in pursuit. Presently we saw Lafe's +horse standing riderless amid the post-oak, nibbling at the grass, and +some distance in front we heard the stroke of his spur. He must have +stubbed his toe, for he fell, and swore with freedom. That permitted us +to gain on him, but he picked himself up and went forward at an ungainly +run.</p> + +<p>"What's got into him?" said Bob. He was puffing. We had abandoned our +horses and were legging it after him as best we could.</p> + +<p>"Search me!" I said breathlessly.</p> + +<p>Far ahead I could see a spark burning. It was going steadily up the +ravine. Surely Lafe could not be smoking; I dismissed this idea at once, +for we could see him dimly and he was much nearer than the spark. It +seemed to expand and cavort with glee as we came on.</p> + +<p>The ravine had always been a favorite spot with Hetty. There were shady +places in it during the day, however merciless the aching void of sky, +and often had she brought her sewing to sit there, listening to the +acorns drop in the hushed stillness.</p> + +<p>"Gee, I can't run another step," said Ferrier. "You go on. Lafe! Stop!"</p> + +<p>We both ceased running. I was compelled to clutch the limb of a tree to +hold myself upright. The spark ahead of us was now grown to a ball of +fire, giving off a vaporous sheen. Still it kept on, and the runner in +front slowed to a walk: Lafe was as little accustomed to this exercise +as we were. Then I perceived that Jack-o'-Lantern had come to a stop. He +flashed above a tree, dipped downward, poised in midair.</p> + +<p>"Hal-loo," came a cry from Johnson. "Here I am. Hurry! Hurry!"</p> + +<p>"Let's try again," Bob gasped, and we forced our cramped limbs into a +run.</p> + +<p>Lafe was bending over a white object that lay huddled at the base of a +tree.</p> + +<p>"It's her," said he, as we arrived.</p> + +<p>Hetty was unconscious, and had her head pillowed in the crook of one +arm. Often so had Lafe seen her lying asleep, on tiptoeing into the room +when returned from distant parts of the range.</p> + +<p>"Here," Bob grunted. "Give me her legs. Help with the shoulders, Dan."</p> + +<p>"I'll take 'em myself," Lafe said fiercely.</p> + +<p>We lifted her very slowly and tenderly, and started back. Twice were we +obliged to set our burden down and rest, but we managed to carry her +back to the house. As we were placing her on the bed, Hetty revived and +opened her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Get away," she said fretfully to her husband. "You're always smelling +of that tobacco. Get away. You make me tired."</p> + +<p>"Hetty," Lafe whispered, groping for her hand.</p> + +<p>"What're you looking so scared about?" his wife asked. "Leave me be, +now. I hate you."</p> + +<p>"Better get out," I cautioned. "Go and fetch Armstrong."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later we heard the rattle of his horse's hoofs, going at +full speed towards Badger. He had saddled a fresh mount. And we composed +ourselves there in chairs beside the bed, to wait—listening to Hetty's +moans when she would rouse from the semi-trance which held her. Never +had I felt so helpless and so wholly wretched.</p> + +<p>"Tut-tut," said Dr. Armstrong, when knocked up from bed. "Keep your +shirt on, man. It isn't the first time in the history of the world, nor +the last, I take it. She's a strong woman. Brace up."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he made all speed, and although three score years had +beaten over his rugged head, he never once complained during the long +ride. Johnson went at a gallop, with brief, impatient periods of +dogtrotting to breathe their horses. They covered the fourteen miles in +fifty-seven minutes, and it was not much after one o'clock when they +clattered up to the door.</p> + +<p>Lafe would have pushed into the room had not the doctor thrust him back. +At the same time Hetty turned in the bed and cried petulantly that she +would not have him near.</p> + +<p>"Out you go," he ordered, "do you hear me? Don't go whining round here. +That's nothing unusual."</p> + +<p>The husband demurred, but Armstrong shoved him outside. As he was +passing from the room, the doctor said to him over his shoulder in a +tone of intense joy—the joy of the born physician in a fair fight +against the Enemy: "She's liable to swear at you in a minute. Does she +know how to swear? I've heard some of 'em cuss me everything they could +lay their tongues to." It was almost a chortle he emitted, but he was +solemn enough before Lafe had closed the door.</p> + +<p>There is a flat rock on the slope in front of the Johnson house, and +Lafe and Bob and I sat thereon and tried to smoke. It was of no use. +Lafe simply could not remain still. He suddenly remembered the horses, +which we had entirely forgotten, and led them to the spring to be +watered. That done, he unsaddled and turned them into the pasture. The +beasts gave a long sigh of relief, shook themselves, lay down to roll, +and began to graze. We joined him at the fence. Johnson spread his +elbows on the top rail and kept his gaze on a brilliant spark that was +rocketing among the cottonwoods. He turned away at last and took to +wandering round and round the house, staring at the light in their +bedroom window. Ferrier and I followed dumbly, finding no words to +comfort. Lafe left us and rapped timidly on the door.</p> + +<p>"I told you to get out and stay out!" Armstrong hissed. The doctor was +not a nervous person, but he was strung to high tension. We caught +Hetty's voice, raised in querulous supplication. It was very weak and +seemed to carry reproach of Lafe, and he shrank back.</p> + +<p>"Get out, I tell you. Go 'tend the horses," said Armstrong, giving him a +push.</p> + +<p>"I done 'tended 'em."</p> + +<p>"Well, take a run up and kill that wildcat that's screeching up there. +Don't shoot it. Smash him with a rock, or something; but drag it out of +here. Move, now. Send that brother-in-law of yours to me. I need him."</p> + +<p>Johnson faded from the door, and we paced the ground in front of the +porch. Something moist touched his hand and Lafe whipped it away, but it +was only his mongrel dog come for a caress. For the first time since +manhood Lafe knew real fear—not the nervous tension of an emergency, +but sick, craven fear. A peculiar nausea where his stomach ought to be +took all his courage away, and he rolled another cigarette in the hope +of steadying his nerves. As he struck a match, he recalled what his wife +had said about the brand of tobacco he favored and he threw the stub +away.</p> + +<p>"Why, she ain't much more'n a girl"—he was fondling the dog's +ears—"just a kid."</p> + +<p>I guessed what was passing in his mind. Thoughts of trifling things he +might have done for Hetty, to the easement of her lot, rose up to +reproach. When a man has gone through that, he has known anguish of +soul. But they were instantly submerged in a new tenderness. In that +hour of trial, Lafe learned many things.</p> + +<p>The creak of a cautious step on the boards of the porch brought him +standing and when Armstrong emerged, Lafe was there to meet him, pallid +of face, but entirely calm.</p> + +<p>"It's all right. Don't look that way, Lafe. No, you can't come in. I +came out for a drink. Where's the bucket? Whew, it's hot."</p> + +<p>Johnson poured him a cup of water and carried the canteen to the spring +to be refilled. On his return he stepped into the kitchen. Growing +uneasy over his long absence, I went in search of him, strolling +carelessly to the door. The room was in darkness, so I struck a match. +There was Lafe behind the door, with an old apron of Hetty's clutched in +both hands. He was simply looking at it, and looking.</p> + +<p>"Lafe," I said. He dropped the apron hurriedly and came out. We did not +face each other. "Tell me something."</p> + +<p>"Let's have it. What do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>I hesitated, doubtful how he might take the question.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"How did you know where to hunt? What made you think Hetty was up +there?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't think," he replied. "Didn't you see that li'l firefly? The +minute I set eyes on him, he sort of seemed to wave at me. Yes, sir. I +remembered what you'd said, too, Dan. Jim-in-ee, there he is again. +Look!"</p> + +<p>Jack-o'-Lantern had abandoned his game of hide-and-seek among the trees +and was now circling the house. He twinkled from door to window, as +though to peep in. Perhaps something discouraged him; at any rate, he +continued to flit in long, soaring glides. Lafe noted these, marveling, +and we squatted on the rock again, determined to stay there. Then, +looking upward to a star which shone in line with the chimney, he +perceived the eerie light quivering above the roof. The location +evidently suited Jack-o'-Lantern, for there he hung.</p> + +<p>At last there were sounds within, and Johnson clutched the dog where it +crouched between his knees. The brute whined under the grip of his +fingers. We got to our feet and the dog looked up at us in doubt, much +mystified as to what all this could mean.</p> + +<p>The merry spark above the roof gave a final twinkle and went out. At the +same moment an inner door opened, releasing a flood of light into the +hall-way, and a high-pitched, treble yell that lifted the hair at the +nape of my neck and set Johnson to shaking, rent the night air with the +suddenness of a popping cork.</p> + +<p>The doctor stuck his head out of the door. He called in suppressed glee: +"Come on in, Lafe. She wants you. Say, he's a dandy."</p> + +<p>Jack-o'-Lantern had found a habitation.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<h3>JOHNSON ONCE MORE IN ROLE OF SHERIFF</h3> + + +<p>Horne of the Anvil approached his sixtieth year full of vigor. His +birthday would also mark the thirtieth anniversary of his marriage. It +had been a fat season. His steers were rollicking, the calves romped +high-tailed, the valley pastures held clear-eyed cows and his horses +were a comfort between one's knees. Therefore Horne saw that all was +good and waxed content of heart, and he bade his boss, Lafe Johnson, to +make all ready for a dance, for it was in his mind to do honor to his +neighbors, humble and high.</p> + +<p>"Tell everybody to come a-running," said he, "and kill the fattest +yearlings we've got. Better pick brindles, though, Lafe. Those red ones +bring too much money."</p> + +<p>Thus happily did Horne temper his generous impulses with shrewdness. +These directions provoked a grin from Johnson, and he despatched his +riders east and west and north and south to summon the guests. From east +and west and north and south they came—a good seventy miles, some of +them. In couples, singly, in boisterous parties, they came riding up to +the Anvil headquarters. And the dance began.</p> + +<p>It had lasted two days and two nights and was running comfortably into +the third day when a killing occurred which made the function memorable +in cowland annals. Everything was going smoothly. There were more than a +hundred guests, and the orchestra was still vigorous and resourceful in +invention. He occupied a seat on a stool atop a table at one end of the +dining-room, and as he sawed with the bow he kept time to the cadences +with his left foot. Occasionally a volunteer would come to his +assistance and beat on the strings at the neck of the violin with small +sticks. This produced the effect of a guitar and was very popular with +those ladies who were a bit hazy as to the time of a measure.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh-oo-oo, ladies to the left and gents to the right.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All hands round; now hold 'em tight.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Lafe had been designated master of ceremonies and he stood near the +orchestra to call off the square dances. Never more than twenty couples +were on the floor at one time, but the rhythmical beat of their feet and +the welling dust were sufficient to make an onlooker dizzy. Whenever a +gentleman swung a lady, he really swung her—no mincing or faint-hearted +gyration. With their hands behind each other's shoulders, they spun +madly about, and the lady's skirt billowed to the movement. Both would +sway dizzily when they stopped. The other guests were sleeping, or +crowded into the kitchen, where were put out for refreshment huge +platters of barbecued beef, calves' heads roasted whole under live coals +in the ground for a whole night, and bread and pickles and cheese. Pots +of coffee steamed on the stove, and one had only to give the nod to +Jerry Sellers to be honorably escorted to the saddle-shed wherein on a +stool rested a full-bellied keg. Jerry had constituted himself Lafe's +right-hand man and never relaxed in his vigilant attention to duty. Had +it not been for this first aid to the weary, the orchestra would long +since have knocked under, but Harry vowed that he would hold out as long +as the keg did, and everybody had confidence in him.</p> + +<p>"The next piece," he announced, "is a li'l piece I done composed myself. +It is called 'The Bull in the Corn Brakes.' Get your partners. Polka it +is. Step to it."</p> + +<p>Aside from a slight grayness about the eyes, Lafe gave no evidence of +fatigue. His wife and young son were asleep in Mrs. Horne's bed. On the +floor in the same bedchamber were seven other women, resting from their +exertions. No special hours for repose had been set aside. All day and +all night the dance went on, never ceasing, and there were always +couples ready. Each guest lay down for a nap when he felt his system +required it, and he lay where his notion of comfort dictated. It was not +surprising then that one tripped over men stretched out under blankets +on the veranda; the yard was cumbered with them, too.</p> + +<p>The lady guests were provided for in the five bedrooms of the house. As +for the children, of whom there were a dozen or more, now grown fretful +from overexcitement, they played in the yard, or down in the corrals +with some Shetland ponies Horne had imported. Only at meal times did +they give their mothers any concern. And the orchestra still held out, +having been thrice relieved that he might take naps.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Paint Davis fed beer out of a bottle to her yearling son. The +child's eyes grew heavy from it. A prudish person ventured to protest to +the father.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw, no," said Paint. "You can't make that boy drunk. It'll learn him +to leave it alone when he's growed."</p> + +<p>Jerry Sellers took Mordecai Bass to the saddle-shed to give him a drink. +Mordecai said something that Sellers did not like. A reluctant rebuke +was followed up by a sharp word. Ensued a furious outburst from Jerry, a +pacific remonstrance from Bass, then blows. Lafe Johnson happened to +emerge from the house to clear the dust from his lungs, and heard the +altercation. He arrived in time to separate the two, and so successful +were his labors as a peacemaker that they shook hands before parting.</p> + +<p>"It's all along of Florence Steel," Jerry explained to his chief. +"Mordecai, he thinks I'm trying to set to her. Just because I had four +dances—yes, and a li'l something I done remarked, pleasant like."</p> + +<p>On Lafe's return to the ballroom, he saw Florence waltzing with the +half-breed Baptismo. Baptismo was showing his white teeth, and he +whispered when he perceived Johnson. He was a strikingly handsome man +and possessed a peculiar fascination for women. Men disliked him and +Lafe's pride of blood was such that he usually ignored Baptismo. Had it +been his dance, the half-breed would not have been there, but Horne had +bidden him from policy.</p> + +<p>An hour afterwards Lafe chanced to descry Jerry going to the spring for +a bucket of fresh water to hang beside the keg. Sellers sang as he +walked, swinging the bucket.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the wild ki-yotes will howl o'er me—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Lafe could hear him clearly where he leaned against the jamb of the +door. He smiled over the doleful song of the night guard, which never +occurred to Jerry unless he were feeling cheerful.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where the rattlesnakes hiss and the wind blows free—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There was an abrupt breaking-off after "free." Then a dreadful cry.</p> + +<p>"Lafe!" came Jerry's shout.</p> + +<p>Johnson ran towards the spring. Close to it Sellers was hunched on the +ground, doubled up over the bucket which stood between his legs. He was +quite dead. There was a deep wound in his back, just below the shoulder +blade.</p> + +<p>They carried him to the barn in order not to stampede the guests, and +roused Horne, who was sleeping. When they led him to view the body, the +cowman was not wholly awake.</p> + +<p>"Who did it?" he asked stupidly.</p> + +<p>That was what everybody asked his neighbor by silent questioning of +eyes.</p> + +<p>"I think I know," said Lafe.</p> + +<p>He left them and went in search of Bass. He could not find him at the +house. Upon that he sped to the corrals, but Mordecai's horse was gone. +The half-breed Baptismo informed him that Bass had ridden off only a few +minutes before. Johnson did not hesitate. He was no longer a sheriff, +but he was boss of the Anvil range, and Anvil hospitality had been +outraged and dishonored. He would track down the slayer. Arriving at +this decision while Horne plied question on question without obtaining a +reply, he went to inform Hetty.</p> + +<p>"All right," said that young woman sleepily. "Take care of yourself."</p> + +<p>It is probable that in her drowsy state she did not appreciate his +mission, else she would not have let him go so readily.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + +<h3>HE ARRESTS A SUSPECT</h3> + + +<p>Johnson caught his most dependable horse and rode out from the Anvil +headquarters. Strapped to his hip was a .45 Colt and he had a 30-30 +Winchester in his saddle holster. Florence Steel, on foot, overtook him +at the gate of the home pasture.</p> + +<p>"What's this I hear? Where're you going, Mr. Johnson?"</p> + +<p>Lafe told her glibly that he had been sent by Mr. Horne to recover +certain cattle which had been run off by hostile nesters during the +festivities. It was true that some cattle had been stolen.</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Florence, gazing intently into his face. "If you meet up +with him, better watch out. A man who'll stab in the back will do most +anything."</p> + +<p>"What do you know about this?"</p> + +<p>"When you catch him," the girl added, "just give him this. Ask if this +doesn't belong to him." She thrust into Johnson's hand a large clasp +knife. There were blood stains on the blades and handle. Lafe nodded and +put it in his pocket. He did not even inquire how the girl had come by +it.</p> + +<p>About dusk, on the following day, Johnson sighted Bass moving quietly +up a ravine on the west side of The Hatter. Some cottonwoods intervened +to spoil a shot. Lafe made a detour and quickened his pace, hoping to +head him off. As he emerged from the ravine on to a mesa, Bass perceived +him. Instead of fleeing, he turned his horse and threw up an arm as a +caution to Lafe to halt.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"I want you. Better come along quiet. It'll save trouble."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't choose to, thanks. No. I reckon I won't."</p> + +<p>Johnson was not one to take chances with an assassin. He began to pump +his Winchester. At the second shot Bass's horse lurched forward on to +his knees with a scream and stretched out, its legs stiff. His rider +scrambled clear and shot Johnson through the fleshy part of his right +forearm before he could pull again.</p> + +<p>The boss had drawn his six-shooter and was coming on. He coolly changed +the weapon to his left hand and threw down on him at twenty yards.</p> + +<p>It had often been asserted in Badger that the sheriff could not miss at +any distance under two hundred feet. This was scarcely an exaggeration. +He had pulled only once when Bass held up empty hands in token of +surrender. His gun lay on the ground and two fingers of his right hand +were gone.</p> + +<p>"I reckon I ought to have killed you, Mordecai," said Lafe, "but I +couldn't forget that me and you had slept under the same blankets. Do +you remember that roundup on the Lazy L? What'd you do this for?"</p> + +<p>"I knew you'd think I did it," was all Bass said, and he began to make a +ligature out of his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Well, get up here in front and come along. We've got twenty-one miles +ahead of us. Let's go."</p> + +<p>"I know what you want me for," Bass said, "but you're wrong, Lafe. I +didn't do it."</p> + +<p>"How do you know it was done, then?" said Lafe. "Only three of us knew +when I left the ranch. That was five minutes after we done found him."</p> + +<p>His prisoner did not explain, but climbed obediently into the saddle in +front of Johnson. Riding thus balanced, the horse could carry both, but +it was punishing work, and not until eleven hours later did they make +the county town. Lafe turned his prisoner over to the sheriff and saw +him safely in jail under lock and key. As he was leaving, he said: +"Here's your knife."</p> + +<p>"Where did you find it?"</p> + +<p>"Where you threw it."</p> + +<p>"I done lost it at the dance," said Bass.</p> + +<p>On this Johnson placed the knife in the sheriff's keeping, to be used as +Exhibit A. When his arm had been dressed, he returned to the Anvil +headquarters.</p> + +<p>All the guests had departed and, though Mrs. Horne was prostrated and +the cowman much perturbed, the cowboys of the outfit had started on +their roundup. A trifle like a murder must not interfere with business. +When he had driven Hetty and the boy home, Lafe joined the chuckwagon at +the camp on Bull Creek and took charge of operations.</p> + +<p>After supper on the first night Johnson took part in a game of pitch. It +was not his habit to play with his men, as being subversive of +discipline, but he was worried and needed distraction. Baptismo, the +half-breed, was in the game. He was working through the roundup as +strayman for the Gourd. Although Lafe lost, the play excited him to +cheeriness and he began to drone, as he riffled the cards—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the wild ki-yotes will howl o'er me—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"What's the matter, Baptismo?" he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing's the matter. Go on and deal," said the strayman. He smiled at +Lafe, but his hands were unsteady. The boss played wretchedly and lost +more than he could afford.</p> + +<p>"Whatever are you thinking about, Lafe?" exclaimed his partner, in +exasperation. "I swear I never done saw a raw beginner overbid his hand +worse'n you done."</p> + +<p>"I'm right sorry. I was studying over something."</p> + +<p>On the round next morning the boss made it a point to ride with +Baptismo. The outfit was dispersed in a wide semi-circle covering an +area five miles in diameter, and moved slowly forward within sight of +one another, converging upon a cuplike valley. In this manner they drove +ahead of them all the cattle within the limits of their sweep. Usually +the half-breed was sent with the first bunch dispersed, for he was a +capable hand, but instead of posting Baptismo this morning as he did the +others, Lafe kept him at his side. Side by side they trotted slowly +through the sage-brush, with the cattle careering in front, pausing +often to look back at them. Several times Lafe raised his voice merrily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee," he sang.</p> + +<p>The half-breed glanced at him obliquely and remarked: "You seem right +fond of that song, Mr. Johnson."</p> + +<p>"Yes? Did I sing that before? I hadn't noticed it," the boss answered, +and went on with the verse.</p> + +<p>All through the day Johnson kept close to Baptismo. It was quite evident +that the half-breed had difficulty holding himself in check under this +close espionage, but the only emotion he betrayed was a quickened +alertness. And all through the day Lafe sang or hummed the ballad of +"The Dying Cowboy."</p> + +<p>On the next afternoon, as they were picking their way through a tangle +of ocatilla among the foothills, Johnson burst into full-throated +song—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the wild ki-yotes will howl o'er me—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the rattlesnakes hiss and the wind blows free—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"For the love of God!" said Baptismo. "Stop that song!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + +<h3>THE DEATH DICE</h3> + + +<p>He was shaking as with a chill, although the perspiration stood out on +chin and forehead. On hearing this Lafe glanced in his direction and +asked, good-naturedly enough, what was the matter.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said the half-breed quickly, "only you haven't sung anything +else in two days but that song, and my nerves ain't good after the time +we had at the ranch."</p> + +<p>Several times in the course of the evening, as the outfit loafed in camp +after supper, the boss had occasion to pass Baptismo where he lay by the +fire. Each time he either hummed or whistled a line of "The Dying +Cowboy."</p> + +<p>Johnson had spread his tarp about thirty yards removed from his men. He +was a very light sleeper, accustomed to wake at least once in the course +of the night to look all around the camp and make sure that everything +was well. Therefore he heard Baptismo when the latter stood over him, +and he knew almost what each second of hesitation meant. Had the +half-breed moved, the boss would have shot him dead. After an interval, +Baptismo turned away and went softly to his own bed.</p> + +<p>In the gray of dawn, as the Anvil men were roping their mounts from the +remuda and the horses were plunging wildly into the press of their +brethren, Lafe called his strawboss and told him to take charge of the +work for the day. To Baptismo he said, placing a hand carelessly on the +half-breed's six-shooter: "I reckon you'd better come along with me, +Baptismo." With that he took possession of the gun.</p> + +<p>The man's nostrils flared quickly and he grew pallid about the lips, but +he neither inquired why Lafe wanted him nor offered any objection. +Instead, he glanced in apprehension toward the group of riders now ready +and waiting for the chief's orders to be off. The horses were restless +to the tang in the air.</p> + +<p>It was not until the two were a mile from camp and well on their way to +the county town that Baptismo broke silence. Then it was to protest +vehemently against suspicions which Johnson had not voiced. The boss +made no answer, but kept a vigilant watch over his movements.</p> + +<p>There was a crowd gathered in the town. They had a man in their midst +and were dragging him at the end of a rope. As Johnson and his prisoner +came down the single street, they encountered this mob. A cloud of dust +enveloped the wretch they were dragging and Lafe had to check the rush +before it cleared sufficiently for him to discover the victim's +identity. It was Bass. He was unconscious and was bleeding from wounds +inflicted by his captors' boots and ropes. A goodly portion of the crowd +was composed of the Tilsons, relatives of Sellers, and the remainder +were members of the outfit for which Jerry had worked. Johnson held up +his hand, palm outward, and called for order.</p> + +<p>"What the hell do you want?" they inquired.</p> + +<p>"I used to be sheriff of Badger," cried Lafe, "and I'm boss now of the +Anvil range. I arrested that man you've got there. This looks like a +lynching. What's the idea?"</p> + +<p>Gustfully they explained that the idea was to hang Mr. Bass to a tree +adjacent. Lafe heard them in seeming patience, piecing together from the +confusion of cries just how strong their passions ran. He inquired in a +civil tone as to their reasons for hanging Mordecai.</p> + +<p>"What for?" they echoed. "Why, damn it all, he done killed Jerry +Sellers. Stabbed him in the back. Do you hear that? Stabbed him in the +back!"</p> + +<p>Lafe touched his horse with his heel and advanced on them a few steps.</p> + +<p>"Men," said he, "Bass never killed Jerry Sellers. I done arrested him +for it, but I made a mistake. The man who knifed him—"</p> + +<p>The mob interrupted with hoots and a roar of abuse. Some of them pushed +past Lafe and began to drag Bass forward once more. Others demanded to +know what warrant the sheriff had for this extraordinary statement. They +still called him "sheriff."</p> + +<p>"Let's give him a trial," Lafe plead loudly; "let's try each of these +men in turn. This man I've got here—"</p> + +<p>He broke off, afraid to proceed further lest the swift rage of the mob +include Baptismo also, and neither man secure justice. Once started, and +two might swing as lightly as one.</p> + +<p>"Why," bawled a man close to Johnson, "Bass, he done confessed. We done +made him."</p> + +<p>"You've made a mistake—" said Lafe, but they swept by him.</p> + +<p>In the turmoil Baptismo edged off. Perceiving it, Johnson stuck a gun to +his head and ordered him to ride in front or there would be no trial nor +any chance for justice—simply a speedy arraignment before the Judgment +Seat for Baptismo. Then he urged his horse into the thickest of the mob +and, despite some rough handling, cut the rope by which the prisoner was +being dragged.</p> + +<p>"Men," he cried, "if you hang him, you've got to put me out of the way +first. This man never killed Jerry Sellers."</p> + +<p>Not one man in a hundred but would have been taken at his word. They +hesitated, but the sheriff sat his horse coolly in the midst of it all, +and the half-breed clung at his knee. It was impossible to argue against +the outcry, or to obtain anything coherent from the medley of shouts.</p> + +<p>In his agony of suspense Baptismo drew a pair of dice from the pocket +of his chaps and began to click them in his hand. It was characteristic +of the half-breed that he should be able to smile brilliantly upon the +crowd even when most fearful. The sheriff saw the dice. His face lighted +and he thrust forward again, shouting for quiet.</p> + +<p>"You say that Bass is guilty. You say he's confessed. I say that I've +got the murderer here. You want to hang Mordecai without a trial. I want +a trial—a trial for both—and that's all we'll need. Let's throw dice."</p> + +<p>It is probable that not more than four or five of the mob caught +Johnson's words, but they happened to be in the forefront, and when they +halted, progress was immediately arrested.</p> + +<p>"Throw dice?" one asked eagerly. "Thunderation, what for?"</p> + +<p>"You think this man killed Jerry Sellers. I know that Baptismo killed +him. I've got Baptismo here. Let the two of 'em throw dice to see which +is innocent. If Baptismo didn't kill him—why, he just couldn't throw +lowest."</p> + +<p>The leaders looked at one another. It was just such a suggestion as +appealed to their heated minds. They began to argue and Lafe breathed in +relief. When men start argument, action need not be feared immediately. +Gradually order was restored. Everybody waited on the man who held the +rope, who was spokesman.</p> + +<p>"I ain't so sure," said he, "that this'll prove anything. But we aim to +hang this feller Bass. You aim to hang that yellow-belly. If it's +agreeable to them, I reckon we cain't raise any objections. We'll have a +hanging anyhow, and Jerry'll rest easier."</p> + +<p>Baptismo still clicked the dice automatically. He wetted his lips and +assured them in a dry voice that this would be satisfactory to him and +eminently fair. Perhaps Baptismo was not unbiased. The dice were his, +and he knew that if held in a certain position in the palm of the hand, +they could be thrown to suit the needs of the player.</p> + +<p>Their minds diverted by the possibilities of this trial by luck, the +crowd fell in quickly with the suggestion. It savored of the rough +justice to which they were accustomed, and if the parties principally +concerned were willing, why should they withhold sanction to the ordeal? +Moreover, it gave an opportunity for divine intervention.</p> + +<p>Johnson got down from his horse and removed the rope from Mordecai's +neck.</p> + +<p>"Here, you! Wake up!" cried several, shaking him by the shoulders. +Somebody shoved a bottle to his lips and he groaned and speedily +revived. Then they explained to him as clearly as several tongues +talking at once could do, what the nature of the test was.</p> + +<p>"I reckon you'll hang me anyhow, if I don't?" he asked.</p> + +<p>They signified that such was their intent.</p> + +<p>"Then, of course, I'll throw," said he. "It ain't fair, but it's my only +chance."</p> + +<p>Bass was still too weak to realize fully what was transpiring. The mob +took no account of this, but surged forward to the spot originally +selected for the hanging. It was a tree, which grew back of a flat rock. +The advantage of this site was that the two could roll the dice on the +rock, and then the one who was guilty could be hanged from the tree +without further inconvenience.</p> + +<p>Lafe went ahead, piloting the two principals by the arms, one on each +side of him. He placed them side by side in front of the rock. The +half-breed picked up the dice.</p> + +<p>"One throw, or best out of three?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>There was a pause, while the crowd looked to Bass.</p> + +<p>"One will do as well as a hundred, I reckon," said he.</p> + +<p>Baptismo gave a grunt of satisfaction and shook the dice in his hand. +With a twist along his two first fingers he spun them on the rock. A +double six! Twelve! A long sigh came from the crowd, and then they all +began to talk. Somebody cheered. Assuredly this proved everything. A +double six was the highest that could be thrown. Baptismo could not be +beaten. True, his throw might be tied—so, too, an elephant might fly. +The odds against Bass seemed utterly hopeless. He looked at the dice +dully for a minute and then turned to Lafe.</p> + +<p>"I reckon I'm done for," said he, "but God knows I didn't do it."</p> + +<p>"If you did," Johnson said, his eyes troubled, "you fight mighty well +for a feller who'd stab in the back."</p> + +<p>And then, before them all, Bass fell on his knees beside the rock and +sank his face in his arms. None but Lafe knew that he was praying. The +crowd thought that he had fainted from weakness and sought to rouse him, +urging him to go on with the test. At last he rose.</p> + +<p>"It ain't fair," he said in a loud voice, "it isn't fair. And the dice +are loaded. But—well, I'll try. I'm innocent, and I reckon He'll see me +through, somehow."</p> + +<p>Saying this, Bass rattled the dice in his hand and clapped them down +with all his strength. So violent was his passion that they rolled off +the rock upon the ground.</p> + +<p>"The throw counts!" the crowd yelled—"the throw's got to count. He's +trying to gain time."</p> + +<p>Lafe bent to examine the dice. As he did so he began to shout +frantically, and he waved the crowd back.</p> + +<p>"Look there!" he yelled, and pointed to three pieces of ivory on the +ground.</p> + +<p>The force of Bass's throw had broken a dice. One of them registered a +six. The half of the other showed a six. And the broken half showed one. +The total was thirteen. He had done the impossible; he had beaten the +half-breed by a point.</p> + +<p>Baptismo gazed down at the fragments in stupefaction. His mouth was +open, but for a minute at least no sound came from it. Then he +whispered: "It's the judgment of God."</p> + +<p>He collapsed and huddled in an abject heap, clasping Lafe's knees. And +in that position he sobbed out his confession. Yes, he had killed +Sellers—killed him there by the spring. They had long been enemies, and +Sellers had insulted him in front of Florence Steel. He had followed +when Jerry went to the spring. Sellers was singing. Sellers had angered +the girl and she urged him to pick a quarrel. When he struck, Florence +was coming down the path close behind. She saw it all, for she was quite +close. He threw away the knife—he had found it—and ran to the barn. +There he saw Bass coming from the bushes beside the spring. He knew of +Mordecai's quarrel with Sellers, and when he perceived that Bass was +about to ride off, he resolved to stay at the ranch.</p> + +<p>"I reckon," said Lafe, as he and Bass moved along the homeward trail +that night, "I reckon you'd best leave Florence be, Mordecai. What do +you think? Seems to me she set more store by that feller swinging back +there."</p> + +<p>"Don't," Bass entreated. "Yes, I reckon she did, Lafe. She must have +loved him a heap."</p> + +<p>"Women are queer," said Lafe.</p> + +<p>"Say," he said suddenly again, "if you were in the bushes there, you +must have seen the killing. Why didn't you speak out?"</p> + +<p>His companion flushed and looked uncomfortable. Luckily it was dark.</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't see who stabbed him, at all. I didn't see Baptismo there. +I only saw Florence coming along the path. And I'd lent her my knife, +and—"</p> + +<p>Both were silent a long time. Their ponies went steadily forward, their +riders' legs occasionally touching. Finally Bass roused.</p> + +<p>"What beats me," he said, "is how you happened to pick on Baptismo."</p> + +<p>"Why," said Lafe, in a satisfied voice, "that was simple. I happened to +sing that song. You know—'Oh, bury me not'—the one poor ol' Jerry was +singing when Baptismo sneaked up behind. I was shuffling the cards and +happened to look up sudden. And when I saw his face, I knew right +away."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + +<h3>RESPONSIBILITY SITS HEAVILY ON LAFE</h3> + + +<p>"It's a wonder," said Johnson to his wife one day, "it's a wonder we +ain't never heard anything from Steve Moffatt."</p> + +<p>She looked up from her sewing in curiosity. "Surely you don't want to +hear from him, do you? I declare, one would think, to hear you talk, +that you were sorry."</p> + +<p>Lafe did not dispute this, but got down on his knees that his son might +mount and ride him. Lafe, Jr., was pleased to consider his father a +bucking bronco on these occasions and used to dig his heels gleefully +into his ribs. Time—two months after Mordecai Bass and the half-breed +shook dice against death, and they hanged Baptismo to a stout tree.</p> + +<p>The boss of the Anvil freed himself from his rider by pitching him over +his shoulder, and rose and dusted his knees.</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow," he said, "you remember what he done wrote to me when me +and you were married. He said 'adios,' you mind. And he told me he +wouldn't bother me until after the honeymoon."</p> + +<p>"I remember well enough. What of it?"</p> + +<p>"It's a mighty long time since the honeymoon," said her husband, shaking +his head dubiously.</p> + +<p>Hetty laughed, but the look she turned on Lafe was not wholly devoid of +anxiety. For this was but one of a series of incidents. His behavior and +recent trend of thought worried her. Since Jerry's tragic death, he +seemed another individual. Lafe had grown subject to fits of depression +and frequently gave utterance to the gloomiest forebodings. What had he +on his mind? Nothing—not a thing in the world. Yet he continued to hint +darkly that it would be just their luck if he fell ill, or were killed, +leaving Hetty and the boy alone to starve.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" cried Hetty, after she had listened patiently to several +repetitions of this obsession. "We're doing fine. You've got this place +and six hundred dollars saved. And Mr. Horne pays you a hundred and +twenty-five a month, and Bob owes you three hundred—"</p> + +<p>Lafe gave a hollow laugh. "Yes," said he, "Bob owes me three hundred. +Ha-ha! That's a fine asset—what Bob owes—ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"So you think he's going to rob you? Say it. Say it right out. What did +you lend it to him for, then?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Because you done worried me into it," he retorted, but perceiving that +he had offended her, he began to weaken, and ended by apologizing. +Although he scoffed at the prospect of his brother-in-law ever repaying +the loan, it is my belief that Johnson had full confidence in Bob and +would have resented with bodily injury any imputation from an outsider.</p> + +<p>"If a man can't roast his friends, who can?" said he once, when I +remonstrated with him concerning a criticism of Ferrier. "My friends +knock me, I reckon. If they don't, then they can't think such a heap of +me. No, sir. Bob's behaved like a no-account. Why, man alive, I had to +let him have forty dollars more yesterday. What do you think of +that—hey?"</p> + +<p>Every one of his acquaintance had remarked the transformation in Johnson +and all of us were at a loss. The change was revolutionary. It had never +been my fortune to meet with an individual so reckless of the morrow as +Lafe had been before marriage. Not only had he gambled daily with his +life, but had held to it that money was to spend, and the prospect of +poverty never appeared to enter into his calculations. Indeed, he had +scorned those who showed reluctance to toss their hard-won earnings to +the winds. Himself had always been penniless or in debt, but he had gone +his way cheerily, indulging no worry over his plight.</p> + +<p>Then he married, and now he talked like this: "I swan, Dan, when I think +of what I married Hetty on, it sure makes me shake like a leaf. It's a +wonder we didn't starve. A man's pluckier or he don't think of these +things when he's younger—don't you reckon? I'd never dare do it over +again now."</p> + +<p>"Pluckier? No. Simply irresponsible—that's all. A lot of 'em hope for +a miracle—these young people," said I.</p> + +<p>"And damn my eyes if they don't usually get it," Lafe said. "It's most +amazing how things will turn up to help people who can't help +themselves—just when you think you're done for, too."</p> + +<p>"Then why are you worrying so now?"</p> + +<p>"Am I worrying?" he asked, looking sharply at me.</p> + +<p>I could see he was displeased, and consequently dropped the subject. But +Horne and others told me that Johnson was much concerned about his +health merely because he had contracted a cold. This was to them a +symptom of hopeless effeminacy.</p> + +<p>On a night when Lafe and I were riding under myriads of stars, and a +drink of mezcal had contributed to warm the confidential impulses +begotten by a long day together in the saddle, the boss inquired +abruptly whether I would look after Lafe, Jr., in the event of anything +happening to him. I gaped at him.</p> + +<p>"What on earth's going to happen to you? You're as healthy as a goat."</p> + +<p>"Dan, it makes me ashamed, but, consarn it, I lie awake nights often, +wondering what would become of Hetty and the kid if I was to be killed +or got hurt or fell sick. We ain't got enough saved to—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw!" I protested. "Forget it. This isn't like you, Lafe."</p> + +<p>Really anxious, I took the opportunity to mention to Hetty that her +husband was suffering from indigestion and that it behooved her to get +him fit again.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," said she, "I've been wondering if that wasn't what ailed +him. A man is only half a man when his stomach is out of order. He's got +to get his meals all proper or he won't amount to anything. Thank you, +Dan, I'll attend to it."</p> + +<p>Old man Horne put a different interpretation on Lafe's peculiar nervous +dread. Very condescendingly he explained to me that, being a bachelor, I +could not be expected to probe the mystery, but the fact was that every +married man was seized some time with this species of anxiety.</p> + +<p>"That is," said Horne, "if he's conscientious and worth his salt. Some +of 'em, they never do get rid of it. It isn't cowardice. He's just +afraid for his family."</p> + +<p>"But Johnson has no real cause for worry. Not like a lot of others. Look +at him."</p> + +<p>"Sure not. That's why he's worrying. He's got things too easy, the +rascal. If he had some real troubles, probably he wouldn't fret at all."</p> + +<p>Winter dragged along—a winter of blustering winds, of abrupt, dead +calms and terrible cold. The cold did not last, however. Some snow fell +in the hills, and under a bright sun ran down in rills to the river. +Later, the rains held off and the grass shriveled. The country turned a +pale brown.</p> + +<p>We never look for the first rains to wash the land until July—for some +unexplained reason everybody sets the date at July Fourth. But in early +June numberless clouds massed in tumbled glory above the mountains and +the rain drove down in sheets. Three days later the country showed green +and pure, the trees put forth new leaves and the ocatilla flared +turkey-red on the ridges.</p> + +<p>"The cattle are looking fine," Lafe reported. "Their hides are loose. +We've had a good calf crop. It'll run to seventy per cent, Horne. And +there ain't no worms, or likely will be."</p> + +<p>"Start the roundup next week," said Horne.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, the Anvil outfit gathered its horses, packed its chuckwagon +with food and bedding, and set out for Zacaton Bottom, there to pitch +the first camp. They would not reach the mountain pastures, where the +wild steers roamed, until late in the autumn.</p> + +<p>The horses were on edge from their winter's freedom. One in every three +were broncos just broken. What the Anvil buster facetiously called a +broken horse was one that had had three saddles. After those, he was +turned into the remuda—not bridle-wise, full of fight and vicious from +memory of what the buster had imposed on him. As a result, we had five +or six contests of endurance between riders and mounts each morning. One +of the boys was thrown and had his collar bone broken.</p> + +<p>As boss, Johnson had the privilege of topping the remuda for his +string—that is to say, he had first choice of all horses. Yet it was +generally a point of honor not to appropriate all the gentle ones; +also, not to assign all the bad ones to one particular hand; and it is +always a point of honor to retain those selected, and ride them, +whatever characteristics they may develop afterwards.</p> + +<p>In Lafe's mount was a big J A sorrel that had roved the fastnesses of +Paloduro in Texas. The buster had christened him Casey Jones, after the +celebrated engineer, because of the desperate quality of his courage. +Now, by reason of Lafe's recently developed nervousness concerning +himself, I could not repress my impatience for the day to arrive for +Casey Jones' saddling—the horses are worked in rotation and, being +entirely grass-fed, each can only be used about once in three days.</p> + +<p>In a chill dawn the roper called to Johnson: "Want Casey Jones?"</p> + +<p>"No-oo. Catch me Tommy," said the boss.</p> + +<p>Nobody but the roper, the horse wrangler and myself marked this +weakening. We did not even comment on it among ourselves, but I was much +cast down. Of course no man after he has got beyond twenty-five years, +or has otherwise arrived at some degree of sense, wants to ride a +bucking horse; but when it is put up to him, when it becomes his duty, +then the man who shirks is discredited. Yet none of us could think of +Lafe as really shirking. Perhaps he had some excellent reason. Much more +of this, though, and there would be a lessening of his authority.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<h3>BUT THE BOSS AGAIN PROVES HIS METTLE</h3> + + +<p>He mounted Tommy, and we rounded up some foothills, where every patch of +weed and mesquite gave up a bunch of cattle. While two of his men were +working the herd on the roundup ground, Lafe sat Tommy on the outskirts, +making one of the cordon of riders that surrounded the cattle and kept +them in. He was talking to a strayman from the Lazy L, who worked with +our wagon in order to gather the cattle of his brand which had wandered +from their range.</p> + +<p>Two bulls started a fight. They were Herefords of tremendous bulk, and +when they crashed together in the center of the herd, the mass split +apart. Fully a score of bulls had been wandering up and down picking +fights, so Lafe and the strayman paid no especial attention.</p> + +<p>However, it is the essence of folly to ignore bulls in combat if the +combat be anywhere near you. None knew this better than Lafe. The bull +that finds himself getting the worst of it will invariably break free, +swerve aside and dash at the nearest object, as a diversion. Usually his +foe goes in hot pursuit.</p> + +<p>The two Herefords pawed and bawled and rumbled and butted. Johnson and +the cowboy talked, lolling in the saddle. The bulls drew off from each +other a few steps, bellowed and crashed head-on. The impact was +terrific. One of them rocketed out of the press of cattle straight at +Lafe.</p> + +<p>It happened that Tommy—finding that no work faced him—was taking it +easy, with one hip down and his eyes half shut. The bull caught the +horse under the belly and hurled him and his rider a good ten feet +through the air. Lafe struck the ground partly under his mount, his +right leg held by Tommy's shoulders. The horse did not rise. He was +disemboweled.</p> + +<p>The cowboys spurred to his aid and dragged Tommy off him. The bulls had +trotted back to the herd and were now engaged in thundering challenges +to other range monarchs. Lafe stood up painfully. He put his right foot +to the ground, very carefully. A smile of intense satisfaction came over +his face.</p> + +<p>"Nothing broken," he said—"just shaken up. Jim-in-ee, but I'm sure +lucky."</p> + +<p>He turned to Tommy, wheezing on the ground and trying weakly to rise.</p> + +<p>"Poor li'l devil. Poor ol' Tommy," he said pityingly. After a brief +examination, he shot him between the eyes in order to spare him useless +suffering.</p> + +<p>The boss was very blue throughout the day, and I knew it was for the +horse. Tommy had been a pet, and every one of us felt what it had cost +Lafe. "Poor li'l devil"—that was all, but Johnson was of the kind who +would hardly have said as much audibly for a human being.</p> + +<p>Back of his grief I detected a great relief. It was almost a new sense +of freedom, revealed in his eyes and his altered manner towards his men. +The old quiet authority was his again. Just what he felt was shown when +he said to me that night, "I reckon if a big ol' bull can't even hurt +me, that I've got a few years to live yet awhile. Hey, Dan?"</p> + +<p>"You're whistling. That was a close call, though, Lafe."</p> + +<p>"If it had been Casey Jones now—" he began, but something in my face +stopped him.</p> + +<p>"Did you notice?" he asked, without embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why did you do it?"</p> + +<p>"I got to thinking about Hetty and the kid. And then I quit—quit +cold—laid down. Just watch me ride ol' Casey Jones to-morrow, though. +I'll sure clean that fine gentleman."</p> + +<p>I watched him. We all did. It was a joy to behold. The sorrel was in +high fettle and the ground was hard. So furiously did Casey Jones +pitch—squalling through his gaping mouth at every jump—that one of his +hoofs was split in two. Lafe sat him firmly, his poise yielding to every +new move of the bronco, and he shouted in delight as he plied quirt and +spur. Time and again Casey Jones leaped straight into the air and turned +back under his rider. Johnson's head would snap back, but his seat was +never shaken, and he raked the sorrel from shoulder to flank-cinch. At +last Casey Jones stopped, his legs wide apart, his head drooped and his +breath whistling. The Anvil men gazed in silence, but with deep +approval.</p> + +<p>"Crackee," said a cowboy to me, "the boss is sure some peeler."</p> + +<p>"He certainly hasn't forgotten how."</p> + +<p>"Me and some of the boys," he went on, "we'd been figuring as how Lafe +had sort of lost his nerve. It seemed queer, too, but he's been mighty +low-sperited. Did you notice? I reckon that was just a mistake, don't +you? It must have been."</p> + +<p>"A big mistake," I agreed. "He was just a bit worried. That was all. +He'll never be that way again."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + +<h3>HOW A MOFFATT HENCHMAN WAS OUSTED</h3> + + +<p>Another episode during this roundup gave Lafe a lasting reputation among +cowmen for cool judgment.</p> + +<p>The outfit was working the foothills country. In nearly all the draws of +this region nesters had settled, for one could grow corn and alfalfa in +abundance, and some had laid out small peach orchards. They farmed in +quarter-sections, and generally six or eight miles separated the farms. +Some of them owned a few head of cattle, which grazed on the open range +with the herds of the big companies.</p> + +<p>Consequently, when the Anvil wagon went on its roundup and began +gathering cows and calves from valley and hill and brakes, it was joined +at various points by nesters. They came to see that the calves belonging +to any of their cows that might be in a roundup got the proper brand; +and they received free chuck, and worked as members of the outfit.</p> + +<p>Late one afternoon a horseman ambled into camp and alighted leisurely +close to the wagon. He left his mount standing almost on top of the pots +whilst he secured a match from a drawer in the chuckbox. Now, it is +contrary to camp tradition to bring one's horse within a certain radius. +Fat Dave stuck his arms akimbo and surveyed the visitor with +ill-concealed rage.</p> + +<p>"What for you don't hitch him to the coffee pot?" he sneered. "Perhaps +you'd best put that ol' skate in my bed."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" said the other, laughing. "I clean forgot, Dave."</p> + +<p>He led the beast beyond the woodpile and returned to the fire. Dave was +lifting some coals with a shovel, to put under a pot.</p> + +<p>"Going to be with us, Ben?" he inquired, considerably mollified.</p> + +<p>"I was sort of figuring on it."</p> + +<p>A long silence, while the cook spread live coals on top of the Dutch +oven wherein the bread was baking.</p> + +<p>"Why, I didn't know you run any cattle, Ben."</p> + +<p>"A few ol' cows. They're my nephew's," said the other.</p> + +<p>He squatted on a pile of bedding and engaged the cook in conversation. A +close observer might have remarked that Dave was wary in his replies—at +least, wary for Dave, who was accustomed to call a spade a damned +shovel.</p> + +<p>"How're the boys off for beddin'?" asked the visitor.</p> + +<p>"Right scarce. These nights get right cold now, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"Somebody'll find room for me, don't you reckon?"</p> + +<p>Dave considered a moment.</p> + +<p>"You can sleep with me, Ben," he said finally.</p> + +<p>When the boys rode in to supper, tired and quiet from a punishing day, +the cook seized an opportunity to speak to the boss. Lafe was adding up +figures in a tally-book on the rim of a wagon wheel.</p> + +<p>"Say, Lafe," began the cook, "this here nester, Ben Walsh, that just +come in—"</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Johnson.</p> + +<p>"What's he doing here? What does he want? That's what I'd like to know. +Hey?"</p> + +<p>"He came to get his cattle, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Cattle?" Dave snorted. "Him? Why, he never had even a dogie calf. No, +sir; no, Lafe, that Walsh is a bad hombre. He's mean. Meaner'n poison. +None of the Moffatts ain't no meaner."</p> + +<p>"The Moffatts?" Lafe repeated, pausing with his pencil in midair. +"What's this nester got to do with Steve Moffatt or his kin?"</p> + +<p>"Why," said the cook, "this Ben done married Moffatt's sister. He sure +thinks he's some gunman, too, Ben does—most as good as Steve."</p> + +<p>The boss was very thoughtful as they ate their meal. He spoke civilly to +Walsh and discussed with him the condition of cattle and grass, and the +water supply. He even offered Dave an extra blanket on learning that the +cook had proffered the visitor a bed.</p> + +<p>During the work next day, as Lafe was dispersing his riders, he stopped +to ask of Walsh: "Where do you figure you're most like to find yours, +Mr. Walsh?"</p> + +<p>The nester mentioned a stretch of chaparral, and Johnson assigned him to +that strip. He noted that Walsh performed his tasks indolently. Once, +too, while they were working the herd, he caught a criticism of his +methods that the nester was voicing to a cowboy. Lafe did not show any +resentment, although the tone employed was raised purposely that he +might hear, but bode his time.</p> + +<p>A couple of days passed and the boss became aware that he was being made +a butt by the nester. Malcontents can be found in every outfit. So there +were some in the Anvil who listened to Walsh's low-voiced talk and +joined readily in the laugh. After supper on the third evening, one of +the old hands told Lafe that Walsh was "knocking" him.</p> + +<p>"I know," said Johnson.</p> + +<p>"But it hurts you with the boys," the other protested. "They don't work +so good. Why, to-day, when you put Walsh on day herd and he went to the +spring instead, a lot of 'em laughed and joked."</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Lafe, evenly, "I know. I'm just waiting. Thanks, all the +same, Mit."</p> + +<p>Unvarying civility for another day on Johnson's part; on Walsh's, a +cautious expansion of his policy of weakening discipline. The next night +somebody inaugurated a game of pitch on a saddle-blanket by lantern +light. Although the boss had not absolutely tabooed gambling, of late +he had discountenanced it among the Anvil boys on the roundup. He was +about to order the game stopped, when he perceived that Walsh was one of +the players. Upon that he walked over and asked to be allowed to take a +hand.</p> + +<p>The game ran with varying fortune. The players praised or cursed the +cards with gusto, according to their luck, as is the way with +cowboys—except Johnson, who won or lost with equal imperturbability. +During a pause, someone told a story. Next deal, Walsh capped it with +another. Just as he reached the point, he paused suddenly to examine his +cards.</p> + +<p>"And what," said Lafe, whose mind was on other things, "what did the +girl do then?"</p> + +<p>Walsh promptly sprang the point, a time-worn catch which under any other +circumstances Lafe would have readily foreseen. The majority of the +spectators around the blanket broke into crackling laughter. A few kept +silent, for there was a venom, a calculated malice in Walsh's tone which +did not escape the older men. The boss felt it, and for a moment his +eyes held Walsh's steadily. Both wore guns, as did every man during +roundup. Then Lafe threw back his head and laughed with such unaffected +heartiness that the nester seemed puzzled. Throughout the remainder of +the game he looked rather crestfallen.</p> + +<p>Dave was cooking dinner about noon. The nester lolled in camp, having +advanced a plea of sickness to avoid work that morning. When the sun was +past its height, the outfit galloped in. Behind came Johnson, his horse +moving at a sober walk. He was dragging a cow at the end of his rope. +Arrived close to the fire, he ordered Mit to heel the animal, and when +she was stretched out, borrowed a sharp knife from the cook. Then he +went to the cow's head and took hold of her tongue.</p> + +<p>"Land's sake, Lafe," cried Dave, "what do you aim to do now?"</p> + +<p>"Split her tongue," said Johnson.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said the cook. Everybody seemed satisfied.</p> + +<p>"Split her tongue?" Walsh echoed, raising himself from a tarpaulin. +"That's a new one on me. What're you going to do that for?"</p> + +<p>"So she can lick both sides of her calf at once," Lafe drawled, and +released the animal.</p> + +<p>A perfect gale of laughter swept from the Anvil outfit.</p> + +<p>"Damn my fat haid! Damn my ol' fat haid!" bellowed the cook.</p> + +<p>A fig for Walsh and his prowess as a gunfighter! Dave feared no man. He +went his way, grouchy and unreckoning, secure in the sanctity that +hedges a cook. Besides, if that failed him, he had usually a pothook +handy. Now, he threw himself flat on his back and kicked his heels in +the air.</p> + +<p>One must give Walsh his due. He had pluck to spare, but ridicule is the +hardest thing to face in life. Besides, what earthly use was there in +defying a whole outfit? He gave a sickly smile and returned to his +tarpaulin.</p> + +<p>To him came Lafe after dinner.</p> + +<p>"How're you feeling?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Better."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the boss, "we're moving to-day, Walsh. You don't seem to +have found any of your stuff. It's certain you won't, where we're +heading. So I reckon it'd save you trouble if you got moving."</p> + +<p>Walsh eyed him expectantly.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said at last. "You're the boss."</p> + +<p>In this manner was discipline restored among the Anvil men.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> + +<h3>NEWS FROM BUFFALO JIM</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rub-a-dub-dub,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Three men in a tub,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The butcher, the baker,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The candlestick maker;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They all jumped out of a holler pertater.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rub-a-dub-dub.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>"Do you call them your prayers?" asked Lafe sternly. "I done told you to +get to bed more'n a hour ago, son. I swan I can't figure what your ma's +thinking of. Now, drag it."</p> + +<p>The boy turned a confident grin on his sire and continued his march +through the house, rub-a-dub-dubbing to the best that was in him. He was +attired lightly in a chemise, and was accordingly able to give an +unhampered illustration of how the candlestick maker and the other +tradesmen emerged from the spud. Hetty had gone to prepare his bed; +returning, she made a dive for the fugitive and bore him, struggling, to +his unwelcome nest. There she was obliged to growl over him in imitation +of a big old bear, before Lafe, Jr., became reconciled.</p> + +<p>Johnson listened with scant patience to their further discourse inside +the bedroom.</p> + +<p>"That ain't the way to learn the boy his prayers," he interrupted. +"Bless <i>Mister</i> Shortredge. Mister! That's a fine way for a li'l feller +to pray, ain't it? Call him Jim or Buf'lo, Hetty. Call him Jim or +Buf'lo. I reckon the Almighty don't know Jim as Mister."</p> + +<p>"I guess the Almighty ain't such a close friend of his, anyhow, seeing +as he's a friend of yours," retorted Mrs. Johnson.</p> + +<p>Lafe revolved this in his mind. By the time he had hit upon an apt +rejoinder, opportunity for its use had fled; but he made a mental note +thereof, resolved to steer the talk around some day to the same theme.</p> + +<p>Early next morning Jeff Hardin came up the trail, with a letter for +Johnson. Letters are rare arrivals in that region and a certain +formality attaches to their receipt. This one Lafe accepted with seeming +unconcern, and having looked long at the handwriting and turned it over +and over, he called his wife. To her Lafe opined that Buffalo must have +written to him. Meanwhile Jeff loitered near, flicking the reins on his +horse's back, intent on catching anything of interest that might crop +up.</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't never take a prize, Buf'lo wouldn't," said Lafe critically, +"but this looks a bit shaky, even for him."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's open it," Hetty suggested.</p> + +<p>It took her husband at least ten minutes to scan the brief page, +although famous for the ease with which he read and spelled; but this +was due to the fact that Shortredge despised punctuation and had broad +theories of capitals, into which the sense of the subject-matter did not +enter at all. So there existed always a confusion as to where his +sentences began and where they left off. But Johnson finished at last, +and then he turned to Hetty with a hopeless air.</p> + +<p>"Well, if that wouldn't knock you deader'n a rat. Here he owes me +fifty-seven dollars already, and he's been owing it for nigh on a +million years," he said, "yet he wants—"</p> + +<p>He broke off, perceiving that Jeff lingered. "Won't you get down and +visit, Jeff?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No-oo, I wouldn't choose to, thanks, Lafe," said Jeff; "I got to drift. +Did you say he owed you fifty-seven, Lafe? Well, adios, you two. Take +care of yourself, Mrs. Johnson. Come on, boy, and I'll give you a ride +as far as the spring."</p> + +<p>Hardin continued his journey toward Badger, and told them there how Jim +Shortredge had applied to Lafe Johnson for a loan of two hundred +dollars, although he had been owing him close to a thousand for seven +years.</p> + +<p>"Well, what're you going to do about it?" said Hetty, when the courier +had departed.</p> + +<p>"Do about it? Forget it—that's what I'm going to do."</p> + +<p>"We couldn't have him here with little Lafe round," Hetty went on +reflectively. "It wouldn't be safe. No, we couldn't. Could we?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I should reckon not. I should rather reckon not. Where'd we put +him?"</p> + +<p>Lafe was highly indignant for the remainder of the forenoon. What sort +of an idiot did Buffalo take him to be, anyhow? It was all very well for +a man to use his friend's money and time as his own so long as both were +single, but when a man married, his family had first claim. If Jim could +not get that through his head without having it pounded in, Lafe was +sorry, but he would have to make it clear, notwithstanding. Send him +fifty dollars—had Hetty ever in her life heard anything to equal that? +Here was a feller who could easily earn seventy-five dollars a month—a +thick, stout man—and just because he was a trifle sick, he had to send +off to borrow and to ask if he could visit. It was weak-kneed, Lafe +called it. He had really never suspected this propensity in Shortredge.</p> + +<p>"Many's the time I've helped him out," he said, reverting to the subject +after dinner, "and what do I get? A man owes it to a friend before he +gets married, Hetty. Afterwards, he—"</p> + +<p>"He what?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he ain't got any friends," said her husband.</p> + +<p>His irritation continued throughout the afternoon and he brusquely +refused to take his son up in front when he rode away to Horne's +headquarters. It was growing dark when he returned and the cattle were +drifting up the Caņon to water. Johnson noticed each cow and calf with a +shrewd eye, and determined to spread more salt in the morning. His son +came galloping to meet him, and Lafe swung the boy to the fork of the +saddle. He was still moody, however, and his wife observed that he did +not eat with his customary appetite. Finally he pushed the plate from +him.</p> + +<p>"I declare that stew's no fit food for a man, Hetty. Can't we never have +nothing else?"</p> + +<p>"You've had stew twice in three weeks. That's what you've had," Hetty +returned, bridling. "What's got into you, anyhow? You're worse than a +big ol' bear."</p> + +<p>"Ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh!" her son growled, making a persistent effort to worry +his father's leg with his teeth. Lafe pried his offspring loose and set +him on his knee. The boy wrestled and thumped him, and gradually Lafe +softened under the play.</p> + +<p>"I mind once, me and Buf'lo went for eleven days on jerky and tobacco; +more tobacco than jerky," he said, considering his son with a smile. +"Nothing ever seemed to hurt us in them days, me and Buf'lo. Down in the +Baccanochi, it was, where we went for some cattle. And of all the sorry +steers, you never seen the like, Hetty. Honest, they couldn't throw a +shadow. But we got some beef there. I ain't never tasted beef like it +since—no, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Ho, haven't you?" Hetty sniffed.</p> + +<p>His usual even spirits seemed to return during the after-supper smoke. +He sat on the porch and listened to the cows lowing contentedly around +the tanks. Some animal went light-footed through the underbrush of the +slope opposite, and Lafe, Jr., was morally certain it was a wildcat; +but, then, he never failed to detect bears and wolves and mountain lions +in the least stirring of a twig. The dark deepened and a coyote yelped +against the Caņon's walls. The baby announced his intention of catching +the prowler on the morrow with a pinch of salt, and by the exercise of +cunning and stealth.</p> + +<p>Hetty came out on the porch to fill the canteen and to warn little Lafe +that bedtime was close upon him. The boy denied it vehemently.</p> + +<p>"I mind once, when me and Buf'lo were sleeping at the ol' Palomino," her +husband told her; "just a night like to this it was, and a couple of +line riders come along with a deck of cards—"</p> + +<p>"That's all you need to say," Hetty said. "You never did understand the +game."</p> + +<p>Shortly afterward she took the child from his father and put him to bed, +Lafe, Jr., howling that he was wide awake and nothing under heaven would +make him go. Yet he was asleep in a twinkling. His mother tiptoed out of +the room. When she reached the porch, she gave vent to the long sigh a +tired woman will give when the day's work is done and she can relax, and +she began to rock in the wicker-chair. Her husband was walking +meditatively near a tall cottonwood. He appeared to be pacing off the +ground.</p> + +<p>"What're you doing?" she called.</p> + +<p>"Nothing. Nothing much." But when she joined him, he coughed and looked +foolish.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Hetty, locking both arms about one of his and leaning +against him, "tell me."</p> + +<p>"Why," Lafe said, "I was just sort of studying how a tent would fit here +right snug. It's a slick place for a tent."</p> + +<p>Hetty squeezed his arm and looked at him with eyes of perfect +understanding.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to see what I wrote to him?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Who? Buf'lo? You wrote to Buf'lo? When did you write to Buf'lo? Well, I +swan."</p> + +<p>It is best at this juncture to stare for signs of the marauding coyote, +or to gaze fixedly at the evening star blazing in line with the chimney, +because those two often chose to forget that they had been married five +years.</p> + +<p>This is what Hetty showed Lafe, bending over his shoulder as he read it +by the light of a lamp.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dear Friend</span>:</p> + +<p>My husband showed me your letter and I write to say we will be +glad to have you come any time and stay with us as long as you +like.</p> + +<p>He has talked a whole lot about you and little Lafe always +remembers you in his prayers. He don't like to say his prayers +he's like his father. We have a nice home in the cannon and it +will do you good it is so high up here.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yours respectfully,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Johnson</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>P.S. My husband is writing to you, too.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Lafe took this letter and enclosed one of his own composition, together +with several very worn bills which he extracted from a can behind the +kitchen clock. And just after daybreak he started for Badger to the end +that the letter might be carried to a railway town by the stage driver. +While he was making some purchases of flour and groceries that Hetty had +itemized on a piece of wrapping paper as an aid to memory, one of the +loungers remarked to Johnson that he heard Buffalo Jim had had the nerve +to try to borrow some money. It puzzled him how some people would beat +their way through the world.</p> + +<p>"It does, does it?" Lafe answered, in a nutmeg-grater voice. "Well, it +oughtn't to. Any time ol' Buf'lo wants anything, he knows where he can +get it quick. Understand? Who done told you that? The man who told you +that was a liar. And if there's anybody here got something to get off +his mind about Buf'lo, now's the time. I'm a-listening."</p> + +<p>Nobody had anything to get off his mind, it would seem. Having given +ample opportunity, Johnson gathered up his parcels, tied them carefully +to various parts of the saddle, and departed for home. He did not regard +the incident in Badger of sufficient importance to communicate to his +wife.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL</h2> + +<h3>HE ARRIVES TO VISIT THE JOHNSONS</h3> + + +<p>Shortredge arrived in a buckboard, driven by Jeff Hardin, toward the +close of a July day. They were visible a mile off, but Johnson did not +step down from the porch until they pulled up. Then he went slowly to +meet them. It took a long time for Buffalo to get clear of the +conveyance, he was so shaky and uncertain on his legs.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Lafe."</p> + +<p>"Hello, Buf'lo."</p> + +<p>They clasped hands and regarded each other uncomfortably. Then +Shortredge paid the driver and the two friends walked to the porch, +where Hetty was waiting to welcome the visitor. Such was the greeting +between them after five years.</p> + +<p>"Poor feller," said Johnson, when they had retired that night. "He's +looking worse'n a ghost."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lafe, when I look at him I want to cry. To think we ever—"</p> + +<p>"He was the stoutest man I ever set eyes on, once, ol' Buf'lo was. But +he never would take no care of himself. That, and ridin' broncs, it sort +of stove him all up, Hetty. I'm sure glad I done asked him here."</p> + +<p>A tent was reared on the knoll under the cottonwood, and in it Jim +slept. He scorned the cot which Johnson had procured and spread his +blankets on the ground, as had been his wont in the days of his +strength. There were several spare saddlers, and when he was feeling +especially strong, Buffalo would accompany Lafe on some of his rides, +but that happened very seldom. They never spoke much when together, +which was as it had always been, but seemed quite satisfied to jog along +side by side. At long intervals one would comment on the condition of +the cattle they passed.</p> + +<p>Within two weeks the invalid began to gain in weight. By that time he +and Lafe, Jr., were staunch friends. For hours together he would build +dirt forts under the boy's direction, never seeming to tire of the +changes in ground plan that the child's whims demanded. And the toys he +contrived to fashion, with no other tools than a jackknife, a stick and +handkerchief! Yet his playmate imposed reservations on their +companionship which sorely puzzled Lafe, Jr. For one thing, he would +never dandle the boy on his knee, as his father did, and he laughingly +dissuaded him from the rough-and-tumble tests of strength and skill in +which the boy was accustomed to imitate a bull, or an outlaw steer, or +some equally impulsive creature. Then, too, Hetty had become peculiarly +insistent on the wording of her son's nightly supplications. Indeed, +Shortredge's name became the feature of his prayer.</p> + +<p>"You're looking a heap better, Buf'lo," Johnson told him. It was the +first time he had referred directly to Shortredge's health.</p> + +<p>"Shore. I feel a heap better too, Lafe. The cough don't bother me much +at all now. But I done bust a valve or something—run away to your ma, +Lafe, boy—I forget what the doc said now, for certain"—Jim was staring +off to the horizon—"it's liable to hit me sudden."</p> + +<p>"Hell, no! Doctors don't know nothing."</p> + +<p>"Shore not," Buffalo agreed, with a short laugh. "Don't you say nothing +to Hetty, Lafe. I'll face the music."</p> + +<p>Of nights they would sit on the porch—Buffalo, Hetty and Lafe—the +child scuffling with the dog at their feet, in the last spasmodic energy +that foreruns infantile sleep. And they would watch the light fade in +the Caņon. The cows came slowly to water, calling one to the other. +There were soft creepings amid the leaves. A mocking-bird sang in a +hackberry tree. It was all very peaceful.</p> + +<p>"You can just make out the top of The Hatter from here, Lafe. Ever +notice?" Jim asked.</p> + +<p>"You can see him mighty plain sometimes, Buf'lo. Do you mind how we used +to wonder what was on top of that ol' mountain, me and you? He looks so +ragged up there. That was when you were punching on the Lazy L."</p> + +<p>"I reckon I do. I've always sort of hankered to climb to the top of The +Hatter," Buffalo went on—"all my life I have. But I never did. You-all +know how that is. They tell me you can see for ninety miles off'n the +peak. It must be right pretty."</p> + +<p>"We'll go some day," said Johnson.</p> + +<p>Hetty caught her breath and glanced quickly at the visitor, but both men +appeared perfectly matter-of-fact. She said: "Weren't you sick last +night, Mr. Buf'lo? I thought I heard you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am. Nothing to speak of. Just a li'l spell. Sometimes they hit +me and then ag'in they don't."</p> + +<p>It was dry the next six weeks. It was also scorching hot. The country +began to look wan, then lifeless. On a night in early October a rider +came to Johnson's door with word from Horne that the range was on fire. +A blaze eight miles wide was sweeping the far shoulder of The Hatter. +The messenger delivered this information in a subdued, expressionless +voice, sitting his foaming horse in front of the porch, to Lafe inside +the house.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI</h2> + +<h3>A NIGHT RIDE AND DEATH OF BUFFALO JIM</h3> + + +<p>"I'll go round up the pasture for you," he ended. "Will Nugget do? I kin +catch him easiest."</p> + +<p>As Johnson was saddling, he told Hetty through the window that perhaps +he would not be back for a week.</p> + +<p>"Say, Lafe"—Shortredge was at his elbow, plucking the sleeve of his +shirt—"say, I want to go along."</p> + +<p>"I don't reckon you'd ought, Buf'lo," Lafe answered. He spoke in a mild +tone, as though the request were a very natural one. "It's all of thirty +miles and you know what fighting fire means. There won't be nothing to +eat but canned tomatoes and mighty li'l water and—"</p> + +<p>"Man alive, I know that," said Shortredge, "but I want to go along."</p> + +<p>Johnson coiled his rope and hung it carefully from the fork of the +saddle. "No, I don't think you'd ought to go, Buf'lo."</p> + +<p>"Why not? Listen to me, Lafe." He began to plead, his manner nervously +insistent. "If it's going to come, it's going to come, and a lot of good +dodging will do. Give me a chance, and not—say, I don't want to crawl +off like a sick rat. Me and you never used to run away, did we? Well, +I'd kind of like—I'd kind of like to be on top of a good horse."</p> + +<p>"Me and you both."</p> + +<p>"Come on, Lafe. Go get ol' Scrapper for me. I can stand it all right. +Let's see The Hatter together, like we aimed to do. The sun'll be just +busting himself when we get there."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know what it means. Go get your saddle. Whatever you say, +goes," said Johnson.</p> + +<p>Ten horsemen met them where the path split, the one to the right +sweeping upward and around the rim of the giant mountain. They were in +ill-humor, for all had been roused from sleep and they knew what was +ahead. Therefore, not a word was exchanged as they dog-trotted in single +file. Sometimes only a pinpoint of light, when a cigarette glowed from a +long intake, showed where they moved.</p> + +<p>Rough and rocky was the trail. Shortredge came last, by Johnson's +directions, and the cowboy in front turned in the saddle from time to +time to ascertain that he followed in safety. He marveled much that Jim +should attempt this ride, but advice is the last thing his class will +obtrude. The night was black, but the western sky was a pale yellow, and +a broken line of red wavered intermittently above the farther slope of +The Hatter.</p> + +<p>Once Shortredge became conscious of something beside him and faced +toward it swiftly, but there was nothing there. He essayed a laugh. +"Pshaw! I'm shore getting foolish," he muttered. "My eyes, I expect."</p> + +<p>Twice after that he was moved to peer into the dark on his right hand. +Surely something rode there, hovering very near. Lafe dropped back from +his position at the head of the line, to satisfy himself about his +friend.</p> + +<p>"How goes it?"</p> + +<p>"Stronger'n the oldest man in the world," said Buffalo cheerily.</p> + +<p>Johnson ranged beside him for a short distance. The line wound ever +upward, in silence. Several times a horse's hoof clacked on rocks with +flare of sparks. At last: "Say, Lafe."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I've been a-figuring that I must have given you and Hetty a right smart +of trouble. There ain't no way of knowing it from you-all, but I kind of +got the idea—"</p> + +<p>"You make me tired," said Johnson angrily. "What's wrong with you, +anyhow? You talk like an ol' woman."</p> + +<p>"It's right queer," Shortredge continued, "ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"What's queer?"</p> + +<p>"Why, me and you both starting out the same way. We used to sleep under +the same blankets, me and you did. And here you've got Hetty and li'l +Lafe—say, Lafe, there's one kid for you. He says to me only +yesterday—"</p> + +<p>"Look out for this drop," Johnson cautioned.</p> + +<p>"And I've got a bum heart and a bum lung. However, it's all in the game. +Hey, Lafe? A feller's got to grin and face the music. That's all there +is for him to do, I take it."</p> + +<p>"What you need," his friend remarked sagely, "is a drink. But we ain't +got any along. Now, take a brace and forget it, Buf'lo. Don't go talking +like a quitter. Just as soon as you're a mite stouter, me and you'll go +shares on that bunch of cattle we were looking over. I done had this in +my mind for a long time. I need a partner—need him bad, what with ol' +Horne's work coming on me more every day."</p> + +<p>Buffalo started to say something to this, but Johnson touched Nugget +with the spur and scrambled forward to the head of his men. They +continued to climb. Often they would see the shooting flames; again, +merely a dull glow revealed where the fire raged; and now they were +mounting the sheer walls of a caņon, now dipping down the faces of +cliffs. A horse rolled into a gulch and crushed his rider's leg. Johnson +told off a man to look after the injured one. Another strayed from sight +and sound, and bawled frantically for twenty minutes before he caught up +with the party. Soon it was necessary to raise the cry of the night +trail in broken country. Lafe began it.</p> + +<p>"Here I go." He sent it weirdly behind him in a long yell.</p> + +<p>"Here I go."</p> + +<p>And, "Here I go" went down the line to the last man.</p> + +<p>Shortredge kept a firm seat and allowed the reins to swing loose. Well +he knew that Scrapper was more to be trusted in this work than the +guidance he or anybody else could give.</p> + +<p>"Here I go," came Johnson's halloo.</p> + +<p>"Here I go."</p> + +<p>"Here—I—go," Jim echoed.</p> + +<p>The sting of early morning was in the air, and often he shivered. Stare +at the rider in front as he might, he could not shake off the impression +that something kept pace at his side. Vainly he sought the silhouettes +of the advance horsemen, stark against the yellow sky, when they rounded +a bend. Those were real men. He counted them—nine.</p> + +<p>"There's ten in this bunch, all the same," he said to Scrapper. "Don't +you see nobody besides us, boy?"</p> + +<p>Apparently Scrapper did not. So Shortredge followed behind, encouraging +Scrapper up the heights, leaning far back against the cantle when they +went downward to thread another defile. Some of the chasms they crossed +took his breath away.</p> + +<p>"Well," he quavered, with an uneasy laugh. "We're giving him a run for +his money. Hey, ol' feller? We're shore making him ride some."</p> + +<p>At long last they climbed to the topmost ridge. Above was the peak of +The Hatter, and the fire stood revealed a mile below. The air was cold, +and a gray shiver ran along the eastern sky. Shortredge's hand flew +suddenly to the breast of his shirt. He gasped for breath.</p> + +<p>"How goes it?" yelled the man ahead.</p> + +<p>"Fine as silk," he answered after a minute.</p> + +<p>They skirted a crag and the devastation of the flames was hidden from +them. No time was to be lost. With Lafe leading the way, they advanced +at a quickened gait.</p> + +<p>"Here I go."</p> + +<p>"Here I go."</p> + +<p>"Here—I—go," said the last man in a faint voice.</p> + +<p>He settled gently in the saddle and Scrapper came to a halt. The reins +trailed on the ground and the rider's hands were gripping the mane.</p> + +<p>Thus did Buffalo Jim face the music, atop a good horse, as he had +hoped—the music of the spheres, swelling in the blood-red dawn that +broke back of The Hatter.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII</h2> + +<h3>MIDDLE LIFE</h3> + + +<p>Ten years have passed. Lafe is a trifle heavier, his figure more set. +The gray flecks in his hair are pronounced, and his manner has taken on +an assured poise that marks him in the company of his fellows. I have +seen Johnson in many companies, composed of men in all ranks of life. It +must be admitted that sometimes he looked out of place, because he was +so palpably not of their world; but never has he failed to win respect, +frequently has he dominated the assembly, although usually silent.</p> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>If there be good stuff buried in a man, increased responsibility will +bring it out. Larger responsibilities have contributed to develop +Johnson's latent strength. He is now not only boss of the Anvil range, +but has taken over the management of all its affairs from Horne, who has +grown feeble in accumulating wealth and depends wholly on Lafe. In +addition, he has started as a cowman in his own right and pays rental on +pasture for eleven hundred cows. Fully a thousand calves wear his brand +of the Spur—</p> + + + +<p>A visitor to Hope Caņon is met by two tow-headed children, who greet him +with their fingers in their mouths, staring round-eyed. These are +Virginia and Eunice Johnson, daughters of the ex-sheriff, and they are +aged respectively six and three years. Both of the parents are very +dark, as you know, and Lafe's most reliable joke is to query Hetty very +solemnly on the marked blondness of their offspring.</p> + +<p>Hetty herself is plump and matronly. She is now in a position to afford +domestics, and she has the calm bearing and complacence of a healthy, +fruitful woman whose lot lies in pleasant places. In her face is the +fulfillment of early promise. Selfishness and evil thinking may be slow +to leave their marks, but devotion to a noble sense of duty will +invariably light a woman's face. Although her household duties are +greatly lessened, she takes such extraordinary pains in the bringing up +of her children that her every hour is fully occupied. True, she +occasionally snatches a half day to herself; but guess what the busybody +does then? She drives over to the Ferriers', and lends her sister-in-law +aid in straightening out her domestic difficulties. Bob Ferrier is +working for Lafe, and works conscientiously, but he will never be +anything but a salaried employé, for he lacks the faculty of thinking +for himself. Perhaps he was too long under routine. Consequently their +increasing family necessities provide the industrious Hetty with ample +opportunity to exercise her desire of helping. So she is happy.</p> + +<p>And when the Ferriers are provided for and everything is running evenly, +of course she must interest herself in the plight of less fortunate +neighbors. Many nesters have come to the country to take up farms, and +to these Hetty appears as a saving angel, however hostile their arrival +has been to her husband's interests. There are a few women in this world +who must always be doing good or they are wretched, and Lafe had +stumbled upon one of them for wife.</p> + +<p>I have left until last any reference to a very important individual in +the Johnson household—Lafe, Jr., the heir of the Spur. My reason for so +doing has been a reluctance to take him up until something more to his +credit than his father's comments, could be offered. The truth is that +Lafe, Jr., has been a wild boy and a sore trial. He has shown tendencies +which have greatly exercised his father. Hetty is more inclined to be +lenient, which may be responsible for some of the trouble.</p> + +<p>At the time this chapter opens, Lafe, Jr., was a tall, lank youth of +about fifteen years, all knobby joints and hands and feet. When he spoke +it gave one a scare, because his tones slid without warning from a high +falsetto to a most sonorous bass. He was, indeed, at that awkward age +when a well-grown boy is verging on manhood. Often Hetty worried over +his abstraction and fits of sullenness; also, pimples marred his +appearance, and a growth of down on chin and upper lip gave Lafe, Jr., +food for thought.</p> + +<p>"I swan that boy's getting worse every day," said Lafe to his wife one +morning.</p> + +<p>"What's he done now?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I done caught him out behind the barn again smoking cigarettes. +Bill, he told me yesterday that he seen Lafe taking a drink out of a +bottle with the horse wrangler. I'll can that feller if he don't leave +Lafe alone."</p> + +<p>"Oh, goodness, let the boy be, Lafe. You told me yourself you smoked +when you were nine. All the boys out here learn to do that mighty young, +and some of them know how to drink right well, too."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said Johnson stubbornly, "but I don't expect our son +to be a no-account feller. We've got the money to educate him fine. But +I'm scared to send him away until I'm sure he's worth it."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, don't be too hard on him. Don't go jumping on the boy all +the time, Lafe. If you do you'll make a sneak out of him."</p> + +<p>"He's mighty nigh that now," said Lafe, and walked out of the room +before Hetty could start an argument on the point.</p> + +<p>He had not spoken to his wife of the worry that rankled deepest. This +was nothing less than a doubt of his son's courage. To a man who had +lived as Johnson had lived, who had calmly braved danger every month in +his life, absence of pluck is the most despicable of human traits. +Little incidents he had noted in the behavior of Lafe, Jr., filled the +boss with a dread that his son might not only be lacking in aggressive +courage, but might be the victim of positive cowardice. However, he +reflected that happenings previous to his birth may have been +responsible, which gave him a patience with the boy he might not +otherwise have had. Yet Lafe, Jr.'s, shrinking fear of the ordinary +risks of range life was wholly at variance with the reckless spirit he +had shown as a child.</p> + +<p>"He's even scared of his horse," said Lafe to me on a night. "Don't tell +anybody, Dan. I'd be 'shamed. But I've seen that boy's knees near knock +together before he crawled up on ol' Waspnest."</p> + +<p>"He's at a bad age," I said, trying to console him. "In the first place, +he has grown too fast, and in the second place, you haven't handled him +properly. Lafe is a mighty sensitive boy and you ought to be more +companionable with him. As long as you hold him off and never give him +anything but a stern order, he's going to do things which you think are +sneaky."</p> + +<p>The boss looked astounded. It was a new experience for him to be told +that he did not know how to manage a fellow creature, and the fact that +that fellow creature was his son sharpened the sting. He stared at me a +long time very thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Maybe you're right," he said. "I'll give it a trial, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Acting on this suggestion, he began to take Lafe, Jr., with him on his +rounds of the range. At first the boy was suspicious of his father's +motive in this move, and showed it by the reluctance and laziness with +which he executed his orders; but, discovering in his sire's attitude +nothing to confirm this view, he became more cheerful and took to the +work with alacrity. Johnson was much pleased. He told me that the boy +was shaping right to become a man yet.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII</h2> + +<h3>MOFFATT ONCE MORE</h3> + + +<p>Towards nightfall on a day in June the boss of the Anvil rode in to +headquarters from a tour of some water-holes that required patching. His +son accompanied him, astride a mouse-colored bronco that, a month +before, neither Lafe nor myself would have suspected him capable of +handling. There was nobody near the stables, which was unusual, but Mrs. +Horne met them at the corral gate. She was very collected, but so white +that she frightened Lafe.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said distinctly, "it's all over now. He's dead."</p> + +<p>Johnson had just stepped out of the saddle. Still holding his horse by +the cheek of the bridle, he said in amazement: "Ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she repeated, "he's dead."</p> + +<p>Then she began to sway on her feet, and before Lafe could reach her, +Mrs. Horne had fainted. With his son's help he bore her to the house. +There he found everything in confusion. Two native women were padding +about, wringing their hands and wailing for help, while Manuel knelt +beside a sofa in the dining-room and bathed Horne's face and forehead +with water. Lafe gave Mrs. Horne into the care of these females and bade +them sternly to be silent. He then turned his attention to his employer.</p> + +<p>In her distraction and first outbreak of grief, Mrs. Horne had been too +hasty. The cowman was not dead. He had a bullet through his neck and +another in the region of the stomach, but he was still alive and Johnson +did not give up hope. Well he knew what a tough person this same Horne +was, and he calculated that his indomitable spirit would help nature to +pull him through. To Mrs. Horne, now revived and tearfully anxious to be +of use, he said: "Pshaw, don't take on so, Miz Horne. It'll take more'n +two bullets to kill the ol' man. How did it happen?"</p> + +<p>In a gush of words she began to tell him, but Manuel rose from the floor +and interrupted. The Mexican was almost hysterical, but from the two of +them Lafe was able to piece together a fairly accurate picture of what +had transpired.</p> + +<p>Headquarters had been deserted except for the owner and Manuel, who was +working in the stables at the time, and the three women. Old man Horne +was dozing in a hammock, when a rider came to the corral and turned his +horse inside. Horne woke in time to perceive the stranger throw his +saddle on one of the Anvil horses. The cowman called out to him to know +what he meant by it, and getting no reply, descended from the veranda +and hurried to the corral.</p> + +<p>Manuel was cleaning out the stallion's stall when he heard loud talking +in the corral. Hardly had he laid down his fork in order to go to +ascertain the cause of the disturbance, than there came two shots. He +reached the door of the stable in time to see a man ride off at full +speed. In the corral he had found Mr. Horne lying unconscious, and he +heaved him on to his back and carried him to the house; all alone he did +it.</p> + +<p>In about half an hour the cowman opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Lafe," he said.</p> + +<p>The boss despatched his son to Badger to fetch Dr. Armstrong and himself +set to work to ease the cowman's pain. The wound in his neck gave Lafe +no concern, but that in the stomach caused Horne acute agony and Lafe +feared internal hemorrhages.</p> + +<p>"It was that skunk, Steve Moffatt," Horne told Lafe in a whisper. "He's +come back after all these years."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk," said Lafe.</p> + +<p>"I will talk," said the cowman. "I'm not going to die for a long while +yet."</p> + +<p>"What was the trouble about?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know him at first, on account of he looks so much older. And +he's grown a beard. He wanted a horse and I wouldn't give him one. Then +he plugged me. Plugged me in cold blood, he did. Just as he did it he +told me that would square us for me and Floyd offering that reward way +back fifteen years ago."</p> + +<p>In the course of nine hours Lafe, Jr., returned with the doctor. By +that time Mrs. Horne had taken to her bed and was almost as much in need +of Armstrong's services as was her husband. He made a brief examination +and reported that the wounds were dangerous, but not necessarily fatal. +The patient's advanced age was his greatest concern. Reassured on this +point, Johnson and his son went to sleep.</p> + +<p>The cowman sent for his manager in early afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Lafe," he said, "I'm going to get all right. I've got enough nurses +here, and I want you to go get Steve Moffatt. He's always tried to give +me and you dirt, and I'm beginning to think that the Lord intended you +to round him up. Take what money you need and go fetch him."</p> + +<p>"I'll get him," said the boss.</p> + +<p>"And, say," the cowman called after him, "when you catch him, bring him +here to me. Whether he's living or dead, bring him here to me. I want to +see Steve Moffatt for what he did yesterday."</p> + +<p>Lafe promised and went out. He found his son near the corral, repairing +a cinch with a bit of twine.</p> + +<p>"Where're you going?" the boy asked.</p> + +<p>The boss paused in his walk and surveyed him critically for some +moments.</p> + +<p>"I'm going after a man I've hunted for sixteen years," he said.</p> + +<p>"Steve Moffatt?"</p> + +<p>"Steve Moffatt," his father replied. "How did you know? Him and me have +been shooting each other up since we were old enough to carry a gun."</p> + +<p>Lafe, Jr., turned to his task of repairing the cinch again, and said +nothing more for a few minutes. His father was inside the corral, roping +a fresh mount.</p> + +<p>"You might catch me ol' Beanbelly, Dad," Lafe, Jr., cried to him.</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you're going to take me along, ain't you? You're going to give me +a chance at him, too, ain't you?"</p> + +<p>"You're damn whistlin' I am," said his father. "Come and get your +horse."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV</h2> + +<h3>THE DUEL IN THE MALPAIS</h3> + + +<p>For twelve days Lafe and his son followed the trail of the outlaw. +Sometimes they lost trace of him, but Moffatt could never refrain from +trifling displays of bravado which betrayed his identity everywhere he +moved, so that Johnson was able to pick up his tracks without much loss +of time. He was never more than three days behind Moffatt.</p> + +<p>Evidently foreseeing that the telegraph of the entire continent would be +put in service to capture him, Moffatt did not attempt to get out of the +country by train or by any of the frequented roads of travel. He kept to +the by-trails and the wildest regions. Instead of stealing over the +Border, he headed north. Lafe heard of him one day in a mountain hamlet; +the next at the home of a nester, in a deep valley thirty miles distant. +So with his son he followed him along the Border, up into New Mexico and +across it, over the San Andres Mountains and onward towards the Capitan +range.</p> + +<p>At the Bar W headquarters near Carrizozo he learned that a man like the +one he sought had taken dinner there and had later ridden onward into +the Malpais. Accordingly Johnson and his son followed into these bad +lands.</p> + +<p>When they started, the sun was glaring ferociously from a pale blue sky +and the dust of the flats rose like fine powder under their horses' +feet. On their one side was an expanse of baked clay, loose and flaky +like a crust of pastry, that stretched away to the base of some +foothills where were areas of green, dotted with grazing cattle. Beyond +the hills a mountain gloomed, mist-capped. In the right foreground was a +grove of trees with a red house nestling in the midst. A windmill rose +beside the house, and not far off, standing naked on the parched plain, +was an adobe structure, square, flat-roofed and with a single stove-pipe +chimney. These were the Bar W headquarters.</p> + +<p>Ahead of the two the level country terminated abruptly at a dull red +line, and beyond that was a fit abode for lost souls—twisted, gnarled +heaps of metal and rock, a torn land where nothing of life stayed +voluntarily.</p> + +<p>They had set out from the Bar W on Wednesday evening. On Thursday +afternoon Johnson and Moffatt were taking pot shots at each other from +behind heaps of lava far out in the Malpais. Near the sheriff was his +son. Lafe, Jr., lay in a fissure behind a mound of slag-iron and +endeavored conscientiously to shoot off the top of Moffatt's head as it +bobbed for the fraction of a second from behind another mound a hundred +yards away. They had abandoned their horses when they entered the +Malpais, because the footing was so treacherous that they could make as +good progress by walking. Moreover, there was nothing of sustenance for +the beasts in all the forty miles of waste. Coming upon Moffatt +unexpectedly as he was examining his jaded horse's feet, the sheriff had +not been able to carry into execution his plan of hiding Lafe, Jr., in a +position where he would be safe and could yet render assistance. So now +Lafe, Jr., flattened out in his fissure in equal danger with his father, +and exulting vastly. Of course, what the pursuers should have done, +according to the best military tactics, was to separate and come upon +the outlaw from two sides, thus exposing him to a shot. About the only +objection that could be urged to this strategy was that they couldn't do +it. Moffatt could see their every movement and they dare not budge from +their shelter. Whatever the quality of his courage, nobody could deny +that Steve was terrible with a rifle.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus4" id="illus4"></a> +<img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"So now Lafe, Jr., flattened out in his fissure in equal +danger with his father."</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"How about that one, Lafe?" the outlaw yelled, as a bullet from his +25-35 skimmed along Johnson's shoulder and back.</p> + +<p>"Two inches too high, Steve," said Lafe, without resentment.</p> + +<p>Shortly after this the two pursuers ceased firing, though maintaining a +watchful eye for any movement of the fugitive, and partook ravenously of +bread and cold beef, canned tomatoes and tepid water.</p> + +<p>Night was creeping over the Malpais. Away to their right yawned the +crater whence this monstrous flow of lava had anciently spouted. From +its base to its rim was about two hundred feet. On every side were the +distorted, grotesque knolls of melted rocks, brick-red in color, +stretching for leagues like a slag-heap from the fires of giants. Not a +moving thing had they seen in their progress through this region. A tiny +shrub clung here and there in a fissure, where an inch or two of soil +had been gathered by the winds, and once Lafe, Jr., had narrowly escaped +falling into a devil's pincushion. About three miles to the south +towered the highest point in the Malpais, a precipitous hill of scorched +rock, crowned with a blunt shaft. Atop this shaft was a dark object. +Presently it soared into the heavens. It was an eagle.</p> + +<p>Johnson scanned the western sky and the glory of the setting sun in its +halo of gold and crimson and purple. Then he pointed to where the hosts +of the storm kings were gathering above the pines just below El +Capitan's peak. From the thickest of the mass a flash of lightning +licked downward.</p> + +<p>"The cook done told me yesterday," he said to his son, "that that ol' +mountain yonder is always raising hell. If the lightning gets going +strong, there're better places to be in than these here Malpais, son."</p> + +<p>"I reckon you're right," said the boy, not without an anxious glance +upward.</p> + +<p>They exchanged shots twice with Moffatt before the dark came. With its +coming they felt a warm splash of rain upon their faces, and in a +leaping flash that illuminated the heavens, they beheld El Capitan +swiftly despatching his cloud warriors over the country.</p> + +<p>"It's getting blacker'n the wash basin at headquarters," said Lafe, Jr., +with a nervous laugh. "Moffatt will give us the slip easy in the dark, +Dad."</p> + +<p>"He won't travel far in this storm, son."</p> + +<p>Nor did he attempt it. The rain burst upon them in squalls that drove in +regular procession like waves of the sea, and back of it, urging it +forward, rode a hurricane of wind, shrieking and tearing among the +mounds. From north to south the lightning flared; they could smell it. +The detonations of the thunder rocked the earth. A great jagged spear +was hurled upon the pile where the eagle had sat his vigil, and their +starting eyes had a momentary vision of the awful impact. Lafe, Jr., +crawled close to his father. He was shivering.</p> + +<p>"Do you reckon we'll be killed, Dad? Look at the lightning."</p> + +<p>To right, to left, behind them and in front, the forked flashes played +upon the metal heaps, the splitting strokes blinding them with blue and +green glares. It was a carnival of fire. Johnson stared fascinated, his +whole being numbed. A loafer wolf, his tail between his legs, whining +dolefully, slunk past them to his den. He did not see or, seeing, did +not heed, his hereditary foes.</p> + +<p>An especially brilliant flash, followed on the instant by a shock of +thunder, brought the sheriff half-way to his feet, so close did it feel. +In their ears sounded a wild, immeasurably plaintive scream, and he +peered over the mound.</p> + +<p>"That's a horse!" he shouted close to his son's ear. "They yell +something awful when they're mortal scared. Yes, I swan there's Steve's +horse laying on its side on a rock."</p> + +<p>Lafe, Jr., was mumbling to himself, but his words were unintelligible, +although Lafe afterward assured Hetty that he heard "Now I lay me," +quite distinctly. However that may be, his son took heart and began to +grope about in the dark behind him.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Lafe?" asked his father anxiously. "Anything wrong, +boy?"</p> + +<p>"I'm looking for my slicker. I brought it along."</p> + +<p>"What do you want your slicker for? You're soaked through now. You can't +get any wetter."</p> + +<p>"I'll feel sort of safer," said the boy obstinately. "Here it is. I'm +going to put it on."</p> + +<p>He got to his knees to don the sticky, clinging coat, and as he held it +extended loosely in his hands to discover the armholes, a fierce gust of +wind whipped it from his grasp and it flew high over their heads with a +loud flapping, straight towards Moffatt's hiding-place. A shout, a shot +and maniacal laughter came to them faintly against the tempest.</p> + +<p>Peeping over their barrier, in a succession of flashes that lighted up +the wastes for miles, they made out Moffatt standing on top of his +mound with his hands raised to the sky. His hat was gone and his rifle +he had thrown away. For a full minute he was blotted from their sight. +Then, in another illumination, they say him running towards them, +laughing wildly.</p> + +<p>"It's the angel of the Lord!" he shrilled to the contending skies. "It's +the angel of the Lord. I seen him."</p> + +<p>The renegade ran a dozen steps more, whirled dizzily and toppled to the +earth. Shaking off his son's imploring hands, Johnson sprang into the +dark. Three minutes later he was back, dragging Moffatt by the arms and +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"The lightning done hit him, I reckon," he panted. "Singed down both +sides, he is. I reckon he got hit twice. He ain't dead—not him."</p> + +<p>Moffatt regained consciousness in a few minutes, but the horror of it +was still upon him, and his imagination peopled the night with avenging +spirits. He cowered down between the two and endeavored to interpose the +boy's body between him and the elements.</p> + +<p>"You won't let the ol' man kill me, will you, son?" he whimpered.</p> + +<p>"Shut up," said Lafe, Jr., coldly.</p> + +<p>"You keep quiet, Steve," said Johnson irritably. "It's bad enough +without having you blubber like that. We've got to stay here till +daylight."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll be quiet, Lafe. But you-all won't kill me, now? +Promise? Where's my gun?"</p> + +<p>"I've got it," said Lafe, Jr. "'I do believe this ol' storm is blowing +itself out."</p> + +<p>At daylight they sought their horses, Moffatt carrying his saddle over +his shoulder and staggering weakly beside the boy. He was too frightened +to remain near Lafe, and implored his son whiningly at every step to +intercede for him with his father and the Anvil men. If he only would, +he would treat him fair and teach him how to shoot.</p> + +<p>Their mounts had drifted with the gale and were nowhere in sight, and +there was nothing for them to do but toil the weary miles on foot. They +arrived at the Bar W bunkhouse at nightfall, spent with hunger and want +of sleep. They slept twelve hours, with Moffatt locked in the cook's own +bedroom.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV</h2> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + +<p>It was five days later that Mrs. Horne, emerging from the door on +hearing a horse neigh, espied a pair of riders coming up the lane. Her +mouth opened in amazement and she sped into the house, crying excitedly +for Manuel. Lafe, Jr., pulled up at the yard gate and said; "No, you +don't, Moffatt. You get down first and go in front."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I'm ready, Lafe. Better not get too reckless with that li'l gun, +boy. She's liable for to go off."</p> + +<p>They passed into the house and entered Horne's bedroom, after Lafe, Jr., +had whispered to the perturbed Manuel. Mrs. Horne was standing guard +beside the bed, her face white and accusing, as Moffatt was thrust +forward by young Johnson. The renegade would not look at the sick man, +but mumbled, and fidgeted from one foot to the other. Horne surveyed him +dully for a moment; then his eyes brightened and he turned his face +towards Lafe, Jr., with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Dad and I got him over in New Mexico," said Lafe, Jr., in answer to the +look. "We caught up with him in the Malpais. Dad, he had to stay home +this morning because mother's poorly, so he sent me with him."</p> + +<p>The boy did not state that Lafe had purposely permitted him to come +alone, for his greater triumph and the hardening of his nerve. In fact, +Lafe, Jr., did not know it.</p> + +<p>"Is he—what's wrong with him, Lafe?"</p> + +<p>"Lightning. He got burned awful bad. He's awful scared, too, Mr. Horne. +Here, you, stand up straight!"</p> + +<p>"Moffatt," said the cowman weakly, "I ought to give you up to be hanged. +You aren't worth shooting. But I reckon you're worse off alive than +dead. Turn him loose, Lafe boy. I always knew his nerve wasn't real. He +won't bother us any more."</p> + +<p>"I can go then, Mr. Horne, sir?" the prisoner quavered.</p> + +<p>"You heard what he said, didn't you?" said Lafe, Jr. "Out you go! No, +you can't have that horse. You can walk. And say—get a move on you. I'm +going to begin shooting when I've counted fifty."</p> + +<p>"Say, Lafe, you'll give me a fair count, won't you, boy? Don't be mean +and cut in on it, Lafe. Yes, yes, I'm a-going."</p> + +<p>"One, two, three, four—"</p> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Sheriff of Badger, by George B. 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Pattullo + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sheriff of Badger + A Tale of the Southwest Borderland + +Author: George B. Pattullo + +Release Date: November 11, 2010 [EBook #34281] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHERIFF OF BADGER *** + + + + +Produced by Roberta Staehlin, David Garcia, Mary Meehan +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive/American +Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + The SHERIFF OF BADGER + + _A TALE OF THE SOUTHWEST BORDERLAND_ + + BY GEORGE PATTULLO + + ILLUSTRATED + + + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + NEW YORK AND LONDON: MCMXII + + COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + + Copyright, 1909, 1911, by The Curtis Publishing Company + Copyright, 1911, 1912, by Street and Smith + Copyright, 1910, by the Pearson Publishing Company + _Published June, 1912_ + Printed in the United States of America + + Acknowledgments are due to _The Saturday Evening + Post_, _Pearson's Magazine_ and _The Popular Magazine_ + for permission to use some of the material in this book. + + + TO + A. W. BALLANTYNE + + +[Illustration: The Sheriff of Badger] + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I LAFE JOHNSON ARRIVES AT LAZY L RANCH + +II CERTAIN COMPLICATIONS RESULT + +III CONCERNING A BABY'S WAIL + +IV OUT OF A JOB + +V AN INCIPIENT LOVE AFFAIR + +VI DISCOMFITURE OF A GUNFIGHTER + +VII JOHNSON IS ELECTED SHERIFF OF BADGER + +VIII A FEUD AND WHAT CAME OF IT + +IX AN INQUEST AND A SURPRISE + +X A JOURNEY TO SATAN'S KINGDOM + +XI A WAITRESS TO THE RESCUE + +XII THE SHERIFF SETTLES A CONJUGAL DISPUTE + +XIII AND HETTY COMES TO BADGER TO LIVE + +XIV THE SHERIFF ENSNARED + +XV HOW HE WON A WIFE + +XVI THE GUNFIGHTER RETURNS AND DELAYS WEDDING + +XVII JOHNSON MEETS A FRIEND OF HETTY'S + +XVIII A SACRIFICE AND ITS PUNISHMENT + +XIX BUFFALO JIM GIVES WISE COUNSEL + +XX THE SHERIFF PURGES TOWN OF BADGER + +XXI A FIGHT IN THE DARK + +XXII CAPTURE OF MOFFATT, THE GUNMAN + +XXIII THE WEDDING + +XXIV THE BRIDE IS LOST + +XXV JOHNSON BECOMES BOSS OF THE ANVIL + +XXVI ENTERS TROUBLE + +XXVII A CLEVER WOMAN AND A MISUNDERSTANDING + +XXVIII RECONCILIATION--MRS. VINING EXPERIENCES A CHANGE OF HEART + +XXIX LAFE HELPS A DESERTER + +XXX AND DISCOVERS HETTY'S BROTHER + +XXXI GREAT EXPECTATIONS IN JOHNSON FAMILY + +XXXII BIRTH OF LAFE JOHNSON, JR. + +XXXIII JOHNSON ONCE MORE IN ROLE OF SHERIFF + +XXXIV HE ARRESTS A SUSPECT + +XXXV THE DEATH DICE + +XXXVI RESPONSIBILITY SITS HEAVILY ON LAFE + +XXXVII BUT THE BOSS AGAIN PROVES HIS METTLE + +XXXVIII HOW A MOFFATT HENCHMAN WAS OUSTED + +XXXIX NEWS FROM BUFFALO JIM + +XL HE ARRIVES TO VISIT THE JOHNSONS + +XLI A NIGHT RIDE AND DEATH OF BUFFALO JIM + +XLII MIDDLE LIFE + +XLIII MOFFATT ONCE MORE + +XLIV THE DUEL IN THE MALPAIS + +XLV THE END + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +The Sheriff of Badger + +"She and Johnson rode together every day" + +"As Lafe was coming from dinner ... a Mexican handed him a letter" + +"So now Lafe, Jr., flattened out in his fissure in equal danger with his +father" + + + + +THE SHERIFF OF BADGER + + + + +CHAPTER I + +LAFE JOHNSON ARRIVES AT THE LAZY L RANCH + + +It may come as a shock to many to learn that we have in cowland a +considerable number of full-blooded men who have never made it a +practice to step outside the door of a morning and shoot a +fellow-citizen before breakfast. This is true; vital statistics and +fiction to the contrary, notwithstanding. They are well-grown, +two-fisted men, also, and work very hard seven days in the week, and +whenever they go to town they get drunk. But in the main they are +law-abiding, and steal calves only for their employers. + +There was Lafe Johnson. This story has him for its central figure. + +"It's right queer about men," Lafe used to say, when in a reflective +mood. "A feller will knock in a friend what he'd be like to do himself. +And he'll act mean one day so he's sure ashamed of it the next. Yes, +sir; the best of 'em will. It all depends on how a man feels, I reckon, +and what shape his stomach's in. No man ain't always going to do the +right thing, and I've never met a feller yet who was all bad. What's +more, nobody thinks he's bad, or I expect he wouldn't be. Don't you +reckon? Why, a man'll be plucky one day and the next morning he'd cry if +a jackrabbit was to slap him in the face." + +Lafe started man's estate as a cowboy. What his antecedents were I don't +know and don't care, nor did anybody else in our country. We have so +many more important matters to engage us. Punching cattle happened to be +his profession. In every other respect Lafe was a normal individual--no +better than you or I, and assuredly no worse. Some thought he was worse, +and among them a Mrs. Tracey--or she pretended to--who thought that and +a few other things besides. That was why Mrs. Floyd, just before Johnson +departed the ranch, insisted that he accompany her to the Tracey home in +Rowdy Canon. + +"I'll tell her to her face what I think," she said. + +Lafe tried to pacify her. + +"I ain't much of a fighter, ma'am," he said. "You'd better go alone and +have it out. Miz Tracey, she's got me scared off the map right now." + +"You'll come, too!" Mrs. Floyd assured him, pulling on her gauntlets. + +This is what Mrs. Floyd said, sitting her horse in front of the Tracey +gate, her erstwhile friend being on the veranda: "I've heard the +stories you've been spreading about me, Tracey!" + +"Stories? Gracious, what's got into you, Sally? I never mentioned your +name! Do you reckon I've got nothing better to talk about?" + +"Don't lie," Mrs. Floyd continued, her voice rising. "You know what I +mean. And I've got Mr. Johnson with me to hear it, too. You keep your +mouth shut about me--do you hear? If you don't, I'll shut it for you. +I'm right proud and glad to know Lafe Johnson--he's a friend of my +husband, too--and--and--" + +She had much more to impart, having rehearsed it mentally on the way +over in order to be effective, but here rage and tears choked speech. +Perhaps it was as well; finical people may even find something to +deplore in what Mrs. Floyd did say. Mrs. Tracey answered, tucking her +chin into her neck, that she was very, very glad to hear it, but, for +herself, she must confess complete inability to discover any grounds for +pride in Mr. Johnson's acquaintance. Upon which she slammed the door. + +"Now, I wonder if that lady meant something?" Lafe murmured gently. + +That was forever the way. People were never indifferent to Johnson. They +either swore by him or execrated his name, which ought to be held to his +credit. A man's virtues must be negative if he make no enemies. + +Here is the story of Lafe's advent in our part of the world--merely the +facts, and not the tale Mrs. Tracey spread. No man will blame him, and +let those of her sex judge Mrs. Floyd who have never erred a hair's +breadth. We will then consider the jury. + +The Lazy L outfit was loading a train with cattle--ones and twos, graded +stuff and some bulls--when Johnson first appeared. He arrived on a +freight, presumably. It is my belief he was heading back for Texas on +the bumpers of an eastbound that passed. It stopped for water and he +dropped off when he perceived us shipping. + +Forty yearlings had been manhandled and heaved into a car, and one old +bull was added which would eventually visit eastern parts in tins. +Perhaps the range monarch had some suspicion of this, for he turned +round to walk out. They yelled, and prodded at his neck and ribs with +poles, but the bull shook his head in settled determination and started +down the chute. If he gained the crowding pen, where more yearlings and +another bull waited, there would be a fight and a lot of mussing and +long delay. The boss danced up and down, swearing like a moss-trooper. + +"Bar the chute! Bar the chute!" he yelled from the top of the corral +fence. + +Ere the poles could be thrust in, a seedy individual stepped down +directly in front of the giant Hereford and began to lash him furiously +over the face with a rope. + +"Come out of there! You'll get killed. Come out!" cried the boss. + +The bull bellowed with rage, but the sting of the blows forced his head +up. Blood trickled down his nose, and there were livid wales above the +eyes. One lurch forward and this man would be crushed, but the rope cut +fiercely and without pause, and the bull began to back. The stranger did +not let up, but drove him into the car with savage recklessness. + +"What the Sam Hill are you, anyhow?" said the boss, straddling the +fence. "A circus or a town cowboy?" + +Now, a "town cowboy" is a term of reproach among us, signifying a young +man who never did range work, but wears the clothes and does trick +roping for the delectation of visitors. Ultimately he joins a Wild West +show and instructs the rising generation. + +"I reckon you're cleverer than me," Johnson said, "but you ain't awake +to me yet. Turn over. You're on your back." + +Without concerning himself further about the boss, he clambered out on +to the platform and threw the borrowed rope to Reb. We saw that he was +tall and big of bone, and his shoulders had an indolent droop. Although +he could not have been over twenty-five, his hair was plentifully +flecked with gray. + +Presently Buffalo Jim, who was keeping tally of the cattle going through +the chute, lost count and admitted frankly that he could not say whether +there were thirty-seven or forty in the car. He tried to appear grave in +confessing this, but was unable to repress a snigger. Everything would +have gone smoothly, he contended, had he not chanced to recall a story +Uncle Hi Millet had told him the previous night. + +"If that feller could count up to fifty," said Johnson, in an aside to +the buyer, "he would be back in Texas still, a-teaching school." + +"Hello, Lafe!" the other exclaimed. "Where did you drop from? Want a +job? Seventy a month?" + +"Eighty." + +"No, sir; seventy." + +"Eighty. I got a lot of unfinished business down the line unless." + +"Have it your own way. Eighty it is. Fly at it." + +Johnson replaced Buffalo Jim and sat on a board between two posts, +dangling his legs, staring at everything but the plunging steers. Yet he +never once failed to tally. + +The boss's wife rode up to the corrals. With her was Mrs. Tracey. + +"Who's them there ladies?" Lafe whispered to a cowboy who wielded a +prodpole. + +"That pretty one's Miz Floyd. I cain't rightly see the other. Oh, yes. +Shore. She's a widow woman--owns a flock of mines way up in them +mountains." + +"The pretty one's the one I meant," said Lafe. + +We sealed the door of the last car, and a brakeman waved to the engineer +to pull forward. The buyer grabbed Lafe by the shoulder and jabbered +instructions into his ear. Then he caught the caboose rail as it sped +by, and Johnson informed the amazed Floyd that he had been commissioned +to receive the other herds when gathered. + +"And he don't even know your name? Oh, he does? All the same, that's +sure rushing it. Glad to do business with you, anyhow. I want you to be +acquainted with my wife. Shake hands with Mr. Johnson, Sally." + +Mrs. Floyd came down the platform, striding like a man. She was wearing +a divided skirt, very useful-looking spurs on her high-heeled boots, and +a man's felt hat. All the cowboys stopped work to eye her. She was only +twenty-two and had an amazingly trim figure. With that meaningless smile +of polite welcome with which a woman greets her husband's friends, Mrs. +Floyd drew off a glove to give Johnson her hand. + +"Lafe Johnson! Lafe!" she squealed. And with that she was pumping the +big fellow's arm up and down, her cheeks red with excitement. + +"Why, it's li'l Sally!" + +"I take it you two know each other," said her husband mildly. + +"Do we? Why, we were raised together, Tom. Lafe was one of my best +beaux. Weren't you, Lafe?" + +"Ain't got over it yet," said Lafe. + +The widow put in a reminder that she was on earth by a furtive pull at +Mrs. Floyd's sleeve. Lafe said, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am," very +correctly, and shook hands. After the hand shake he looked at Mrs. +Tracey again, with a new interest. The boss shouted for his horse. He +could never be idle a minute. + +"Let's go home. Reb, give Johnson your horse and double up with one of +the boys. I'm sure getting hungry." + +Laughing and indulging in horse-play, the Lazy L men set out. Mrs. +Tracey paired off with Floyd and took especial pains to lead him well in +advance. There would have been nothing in this maneuver but for her +manner of executing it. + +"What does she mean by that?" said Sally hotly. + +"Who? What?" + +"The way she went off there. Didn't you see her? You'd think we--oh, I +don't know how to say it." + +"I reckon this lady knows her way about, ma'am?" + +"She's awfully nice, Lafe. Really she is. When we're alone, I love her. +But sometimes, when men are around--well, you saw how she acted." + +"Sure," said Lafe, in his soft bass, and he grinned at her. "It ain't +what she does, but it's what she don't do. That smile she smothers, +now--" + +"Have you noticed that, too? Tom did, very first thing. He doesn't like +her." + +Johnson asked her of her marriage and how it had come about. It was five +years since he had seen her, wasn't it? Mrs. Floyd said four, and he +murmured that it seemed longer. She laughed, but was pleased, +nevertheless. As they rode, she studied him without disguise, and +remarked that the gray in his hair was an improvement. He was dressed +very poorly, and his boots were down at the heel and worn through the +soles, but she did not appear to notice their plight and he suffered no +confusion therefrom. Twice she detected him looking from her to Tom, +loping in the van. + +"What're you thinking about?" she said. + +"Nothing much. Ideas don't get much of a hold on me. There ain't nothing +to grip." + +"I know--I can see it in your face. It's mean of you, Lafe, just because +he's forty and--and--well, he's the truest and best--" + +"Hold on there. Pull up!" He was chuckling. Abruptly sober: "Sure, I'll +bet he's got a kind heart." + +She glared at him for an instant. Then they both exploded into laughter +and she shook her horse into a gallop. + +"You're just the same old Lafe. Nothing'll ever sober you," she called +over her shoulder. "Remember--I'm a married woman, Lafe Johnson." + +"I won't forget it if you don't, ma'am," he said amiably, upon which she +gave him a fearfully stern look and giggled. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CERTAIN COMPLICATIONS RESULT + + +Many authorities assert that a man's looks count for nothing in the +pursuit of women and the game of love. And they seem to have the rights +of the matter. Citations can be had in plenty. Take the case of the Lazy +L boss. Floyd was not unlike an amiable gorilla. Well over the two-score +mark in years, he rambled somewhat in his shape. In the first place, his +shoulders were too broad for his height, and his jaw and mouth were +entirely too wide. Moreover, his legs had the liveliest scorn one for +the other. The boss always compelled interest and respect, it is true; +but so does a bulldog. Yet he owned the Lazy L and all its herds; he had +the prettiest wife in the country, and there were those who said she +adored him; and he had a son and heir, two years old. All of which set +Lafe to marveling over the inscrutable contrivings of Providence. + +It was seven miles from the shipping pens to the ranch, another seven to +the Tracey home. Consequently the widow stayed to supper, though it +meant enduring Floyd's cold scrutiny for an hour of chat. The boss was +civil to her in a heavy, formal way, bestowing sidelong looks when he +was persuaded she could not see him. However, there was a full moon and +it would fall to Johnson to take her home. She was a persevering woman. + +Floyd presented himself to his wife on the second day and said, in his +usual blunt style: "Sally, better be decent to that fellow Johnson. Will +you?" + +"Why, sure, Tom. What's got into your head now?" + +"Some of this last bunch of cattle are awful poor stuff. Where the +tarnation Reb picked up these brindles and swaybacks and old, hipped +long-horns beats me. Lafe will cut 'em all back. He'll just go through +that herd like a prairie fire. So keep him in a good humor, Sally, will +you? Is it a go?" + +"Tom, you're dreadful. Do you think I'll help you cheat Mr. Horne by +flirting with Lafe? You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Tom Floyd." + +"Who asked you to flirt? I've seen you mighty handy with them eyes of +yours on other fellows, without being asked," he said good-humoredly. + +"Oh, what a lie, Tom! I won't. Remember, I won't." + +But, being a good wife, she did. + +Autumn was rattling the dry bones of summer, and she and Johnson rode +together every day. A keen southwest wind swirled the dead grass and +leaves about their horses' feet. He would listen to her chatter by the +hour, watching the pink grow in her cheeks. Lafe was very good-humored, +indeed. With the improvement in his circumstances had come a marked +improvement in appearance. He had imported what is known as a +"hand-me-down" suit at the cost of a week's pay, and he took a +pardonable pride in it, for the reason that the tailors expressly stated +in their advertising that they catered only to gentlemen of refined +tastes. Also, he had done some trafficking with Buffalo Jim, thereby +obtaining a pair of whole boots. + +[Illustration: "She and Johnson rode together every day."] + +Often he spent hours with the baby Tommy, fashioning him ridiculous +playthings, and tumbling on the ground for the child's delectation. And +Sally gloated over Mrs. Tracey, who scarcely saw Lafe at all. Mrs. Floyd +looked not an hour over eighteen. + +Twice she brought Johnson up short. + +"Now, Lafe, none of that. I won't listen." + +Let us disregard the fruits of our experience and believe that Mrs. +Floyd did not perceive what was growing in Johnson during those two +weeks of companionship, although we may be convinced that even a stupid +woman can sense it a mile off; and Mrs. Floyd was clever. But she would +not give ear to her own doubts. + +"That widow won't get him, anyhow," she said, standing in front of a +mirror. She could not resist giving her hips an approving pat, and she +smiled. + +One evening, as they sat on the veranda, Lafe put up a forefinger +languidly and touched a stray curl. She dashed his hand away. + +"It's just as black and silky as ever," he said. + +"Perhaps. But you keep your hands off! Do you hear?" Then she added: +"There's no gray in it, anyhow." + +Just for whom this shaft was meant will ever remain a profound mystery. +Both Lafe and Mrs. Tracey had gray in their hair. That night Sally was +demonstrative with Floyd, hanging over the back of his chair with her +hands locked under his chin and her face snuggling against the top of +his head. The boss blew clouds of smoke and seemed gently amused. These +manifestations of devotion had become frequent of late, but it should +not be hastily inferred that because Lafe was a spectator they were done +for his benefit. That could not be, because he took them with such +extraordinary fortitude. If he was harassed, Johnson stifled all +expression of his condition grandly. + +Floyd was much away from home. Sometimes he was in the south, buying +stock cattle. Again, he went north and east to sell of his herds. Sally +told Lafe that he left her alone too much. Lafe coughed and said +something unintelligible, and lighted a cigarette. + +"What did you say?" she asked sharply. + +"When a feller is getting old and ain't got long to live--" + +"You quit that kind of talk right now. I won't stand for it." + +It was the first time she had been really angry at any of his frequent +sallies concerning Floyd, and it put them at once on a different +footing. The safe frankness of raillery was gone. + +Alas, that Lafe could draw the line so sharply between business and the +courtesies of leisure hours. A trail herd arrived. They plied Johnson +with strong drink and worked in relays to get him drunk. He partook +sociably, but without noticeable impairment of his faculties, and he cut +the herd ruthlessly to a remnant. The boss grew dizzy figuring his +losses and departed from the roundup, unable to endure the spectacle +without interference, leaving instructions to be notified when the fool +was done. + +"I'm working for Horne," said Lafe cheerfully. "Did you think I couldn't +tell a two-year-old from a three, Floyd? Those boys tried to run a bunch +by me." + +Mrs. Tracey drove over to the Floyd headquarters twice, on matters +relating to a recipe for a cake and certain patterns, and then asked her +friend and Mr. Johnson to dinner. She invited Floyd, too, but it was +done so perfunctorily that Sally felt the stab and was furious. However, +she went. The widow was as sleek as a kitten and wore such a secretive +air that Mrs. Floyd had much ado to keep her temper during the meal. +Afterward, Mrs. Tracey excused herself for a few minutes on some pretext +and left them alone in the sitting-room. When she had to pass through on +her way upstairs, she hurried as though intruding, and said: "Oh, I beg +your pardon!" + +"The cat!" Mrs. Floyd cried, gritting her teeth. + +"There wasn't no call for her to say that?" + +"Of course there wasn't, booby. That doesn't make it any better. It +makes it worse." + +Two days later: "Now guess what?" + +"I done quit guessing," Johnson answered. + +"That Tracey woman tried to tell me this morning that my Tom was too +friendly with one of those Baptismo girls." + +"Pshaw!" said Lafe. "Pshaw! What does she want to go and tell them lies +for? What good does it do?" + +"You don't see?" + +"I reckon I'm dull." + +"Oh, you great baby!" Mrs. Floyd gurgled delightedly. + +This display of malice disturbed Lafe greatly. Such weapons were beyond +his knowledge and capacity, and he felt hotly uncomfortable when Sally +intimated that they might expect Mrs. Tracey to be talking of them +next--if, indeed, she had not done so already. She was for going to +Rowdy Canon without delay to bestow a tongue-lashing on the widow. + +"What's the use?" the cowboy said. "Her talk can't hurt nobody. They all +know you." + +"Some people will believe her." + +"Some people will do anything. Never bother with poor trash, Sally. It +don't matter what that kind thinks. Leave her be. What can you expect +from a pig but a grunt?" + +That was no way to speak of a lady, but Mrs. Floyd jumped from her chair +and cried "Goody!", greatly consoled. Just before the evening meal, she +put on a pink dress for which Lafe had professed admiration, and parted +her hair in the middle. Had there been a woman within seven miles, she +would not have done this, but Lafe liked it that way. So also did her +husband, for that matter. + +"As if I'd get jealous of Tom!" she sniffed. "Huh! you won't get Lafe +that way, my lady." + +I have said that they rode together every day. Sometimes Floyd watched +the two meditatively. His instructions were being carried out--no doubt +of that--and Johnson was good-natured. But the boss was a silent man and +opposed no objection. As for Sally, if she gave it a thought at all, she +probably found justification in a dozen reasons a woman would +appreciate, which are beyond male ken. + +Lafe helped her down from her horse late one afternoon, though she +needed no help. And he held her for just the fraction of a second. She +stiffened with an injured air, but she did not reprove him. On another +occasion--they were on the veranda and it was growing to dusk--after +staring helplessly at her for a full quarter of an hour, while she +purposely said as little as possible and toyed with the lace of her +handkerchief, her head on one side that he might get the benefit of her +profile--suddenly he seized her in his arms and tried to kiss her. He +did, in fact, obtain the merest peck at the tip of her ear. + +"You darn fool!" she said, tearing loose. + +Then she saw his face, and went hastily indoors and huddled in a chair +in a dark corner. She sat there until called to supper, striving to fix +recent happenings in proper sequence. + +After putting the baby to bed, she beckoned Lafe on to the veranda. Her +manner was hurried. + +"Lafe, you've got to go away. You've got to go to-morrow." + +"Why? I can't, Sally. There's three thousand more--" + +"You must! You must! Can't you see? You've got to go. We're--" + +"Sure, I see," he said. It was very dark and he came closer. "You care! +That's what it is. You used to, Sally, and you do now." + +"Lafe, let me go! Please--please!" + +She broke away and gained the door. She was panting. In the lighted +entrance, she looked back. + +"You've got to go to-morrow, remember," she said faintly. + +But he did not go on the morrow. Floyd was astir before dawn--he usually +fell asleep on a sofa immediately after his supper, thereby gaining a +few hours on everyone else--and rode away with ten men to bring up the +last herd of the sixteen thousand head he would ship. + +Sally was distrait and restless all day. She punished the baby for +upsetting a pitcher, and then ordered the Mexican nurse to take him and +keep him out of her sight. Johnson stayed away from the house and busied +himself at the corrals, where some newly purchased mules were being +broken to harness for his employer. He never gave an order, yet the boys +obeyed his slow-voiced suggestions with the same promptitude they gave +to the boss's crisp commands. Lafe could always get obedience without +visible exercise of authority. He knew his business and followed it +without fluster. + +At sunset, a cloud of dust whirled madly across country, with the rain +close behind it. Sally ate alone--Lafe had evidently stayed at the +bunkhouse--and she felt vaguely resentful. About nine she tucked the +child into his bed and went out on to the veranda. The wind was dying, +and the rain fell in a soft, steady murmur. + +Johnson came running along the pathway and took the steps at a jump. He +was wet, but jeered at her suggestion that he change. + +"Only got this one suit," he said. "If it gets to shrinking much more on +me, I'll have for to steal a blanket to-morrow, Sally." + +He took a chair beside her and they watched the lightning play above the +black jumble of hills to the east. Sally uttered hardly a syllable. +When she spoke at all, the words came jerkily. Lafe leaned over once to +brush some sparks of his cigarette from his coat. A delicate perfume +reached him. + +"The river," he said, clearing his throat, "the river'll be way up. +Bridge is like to go out." + +"I'm afraid so. Oh, dear! Tom promised he'd come home to-night, too." + +"Come home to-night? Why, it's thirty miles." + +"I know it. But he's never failed to keep his word yet," she said. + +"He won't come home to-night." + +A writhing fork of lightning leaped from east to north. There was no +thunder. They sat tensely quiet and the rain dripped sadly from the +roof. + +"No, he won't come home to-night," he said in a hoarse voice. "He +can't." + +"Sally!" he breathed, bending toward her. "Sally!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +CONCERNING A BABY'S WAIL + + +He was gripping both her hands and she had not moved. Her lips were +open, but she seemed powerless to speak. A loud thump startled the pair. +A shrill wail from the bedroom and Mrs. Floyd sprang up. + +The baby had fallen from the bed and was now engaged in howling himself +purple in the face. Mrs. Floyd swooped down on him in a tremor, and +gathering him in her arms, went all over his sturdy body with speed and +precision, to ascertain in just how many places bones were broken. + +"Lafe," she cried, "he's bumped his head. Oh, just look at this lump! My +own precious darling! Lafe, get the witch-hazel! Quick! No, no! In the +bathroom, on the window sill. Oh, he's holding his breath! Baby! Baby!" + +She shook Tommy until he was forced to release the air in his lungs, +which he let go with a tearing yell. Johnson brought the bottle and +stood awkwardly holding it, while she applied some of the contents to a +red spot on the baby's forehead. Sally sat in a chair, rocking back and +forward, with her lips against her child's neck and her arms holding +him close. Little Tom clutched her tightly and gradually his cries and +sobs ceased. Lafe tiptoed to the door. He remained there a few minutes +to watch, leaning against the jamb. But Sally did not appear to notice +him as she crooned to the baby, who was sinking to sleep. + +Johnson was standing at the edge of the steps, staring into the +blackness, when she came out. He threw away his cigarette on hearing her +call his name. + +"Just look at that dark, Sally, will you?" he said. "It beats all." + +At the tone of his voice, she cried: "Oh, Lafe, Lafe! I'm so glad!" + +Mrs. Floyd did not specify why she was glad, nor did Johnson ask her. +She gave him both hands without hesitation, and they stood smiling at +each other in comradely fashion in the half-light from the hall. When he +spoke, it was to his childhood's playmate. + +"Huh-huh!" she agreed. "Let's sit down and talk over old times. Do you +remember, Lafe, the grass fights we used to have? You were an awful +cheat." + +"That's a lie, ma'am! Leastways, it ain't true. You done put a lizard +down my back with a bunch of grass." + +They were in high glee when a clatter of hoofs broke in on them. It +startled Mrs. Floyd. + +"What's that? Who's that?" + +Two riders pulled up in front of the house, and Floyd stepped stiffly +out of the saddle. He gave the reins to Miguel, who disappeared toward +the corrals at a gallop. The boss was spattered with mud, and wringing +wet and dog-weary. As he came into the light, he dragged his feet, and +water ran in streams from his overalls and seeped from his boots. + +"Tom!" His wife ran to him. + +"Don't," he said. "I'm soaking." + +"How did you get here? Mercy! You're a sight. Don't let the rain drip on +the rug! Stand over here." + +"How's the bridge, Floyd?" Johnson asked. + +"The bridge is down," the boss answered. "We done swum the river." Then +he chuckled grimly. "Miguel, he was plumb scared, but I pulled a gun on +him and made him go ahead." + +He threw himself into a chair and removed his muddied spurs. + +"I never dreamed you'd get back to-night," said Sally. + +"I said I would, didn't I?" + +Johnson, resting his shoulders against the sitting-room mantel, suddenly +bethought himself and went to his room, whence he returned briskly with +a bottle of whisky. + +"This'll keep the cold out." + +"Why, you must be half dead, you poor, dear old Boy Blue!" Sally cried; +the name fitted the boss as happily as Fido would a rhinoceros. "Wait, +and I'll cook you something." + +Something in her manner or her words caused Floyd to lift his head +sharply. A slow smile twisted his features. He got up and went into the +dining-room to pour some water into his drink. Before he drained it, he +looked at his reflection in the glass above the sideboard. His eyes +showed tired but well content. + +"Come on, Lafe," he said brusquely. "Let's eat." + +"You're on," said the cheery Mr. Johnson. + +Sally hovered about them, constantly running to the kitchen for hot +coffee and toast. Lafe sat back--it being his custom to bring his mouth +down to his fork, instead of his fork up to his mouth--and surveyed the +scene with much approval. Mrs. Floyd was at that moment pressing her +husband to a second plate of scrambled eggs. + +"There's nothing like a home, after all," said the boss, with a sigh of +satisfaction. "You ought for to get married, Lafe." + +"Hell!--yes!" said Lafe, who was sometimes careless in his speech. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +OUT OF A JOB + + +Three days later Johnson left us to go north with his last load of +cattle. Floyd and his wife were at the pens to say good-by, and waved at +him until the caboose followed the rest of the train around a curve. +Even Tommy flapped his chubby fist. And in the course of time Horne paid +him off. + +That was in Kansas City. Johnson spent his earnings in something under +thirty hours and made the return in a day coach, having no money for a +berth. Indeed, his last meal, which he procured at a wayside lunch +counter in New Mexico, he was compelled to charge. It was made easier +for him to do this inasmuch as he had already eaten the meal. The +landlord, after slowly thinking it over, said he would trust Lafe. + +Now he was back in the cow country, hopeful that Horne might find +further employment for him, for that was the only work in which Lafe was +content. And he went to Badger, his credit being good there until they +should discover he had no money. It behooved him to get a job, with +winter almost on them, yet the prospect did not distress Lafe in the +least. He loitered around the Fashion, waiting for something to turn +up. + +On a November morn, Buffalo Jim rode into Badger from the Lazy L, +leading a pack-horse that carried all his worldly possessions on its +back. Buffalo was lifted up in heart and scornful of roundups, having +just sold a mine. It does not concern us what sort of mine he sold, +although a gentleman from Illinois grew very nasty over this point +subsequently. Suffice that Jim had four hundred dollars. + +He told Lafe that he was through with the Lazy L and sick cows, and +would devote his future to prospecting. Nobody would ever order him +around again; he wouldn't stand to be roused out of bed at four in the +morning by Floyd, or any man alive. A week's work in the hills, a vein +of copper--and here he was with money in his pocket, able to glean +life's pleasures. He banged his silver down on the bar and looked all +around, like a landed proprietor. Johnson agreed that it was a tempting +career, although a man had once hunted him for a month with a sawed-off +.25-35 because of a similar transaction. Buffalo scoffed at the +suggestion of the Illinois party ever finding him, and he proceeded to +do nothing. Lafe helped him. + +It is to be feared that you will regard these two as a godless pair, +which I deplore. Remember that customs create standards of behavior, and +in Johnson's world they are suspicious of a man who permits himself no +indulgences. Besides, in your circle or in mine, what earthly honor is +accorded the man so palely good that he never takes a jaunt into the +pleasant by-ways? + +So then, Lafe Johnson and Buffalo Jim proceeded to enjoy life in Badger +in the only way they knew. There was really no adequate physical reason +for Shortredge's name of Buffalo Jim. If one scrutinized him closely, +the difference could be discerned with comparative ease. Yet Shortredge +possessed traits that made the appellation peculiarly fitting. When +storms brew, a buffalo will drift into them head on, being so +constructed by the Creator. It is yet to be learned that Jim ever +permitted trouble to overtake him with his back turned. + +They were lying under a pool table in the Fashion one gusty November +dawn, lost in vague conjecture as to how they had arrived there, when +Mr. Shortredge was seized of an inspiration. He told Lafe that he would +give a dance, and Lafe readily consenting to this expenditure of his +friend's money, they sallied forth to acquaint the citizens of the +impending function, and to bid them come. + +"I want everybody to come a-runnin'," was Jim's formal invitation. "No +style, mind; but it's best to be clean." + +The ball was held in Haverty's empty feed barn and the guests presented +themselves with the commendable expedition their host had urged on them. +At an early hour in the festivities, three male persons from Nogales +sought admittance, and Lafe Johnson, not taking kindly to their looks, +a slight awkwardness resulted. This was satisfactorily adjusted between +the barn and the town limits, and Lafe and his companion returned to +their hospitable duties in that peace of mind obtainable from work well +done. + +"What do you think of that there girl with the yallow hair?" said +Johnson, in a cautious whisper that could not be heard beyond fifty +feet. + +"I don't think much of her," Jim answered. "Too loose in the j'ints for +me." + +"I reckon she looks good enough to tie to," said Lafe. + +In pursuance of this opinion, he began to haunt the vicinity of Grace +Hawes. He danced two Paul Joneses with her; followed them with a +two-step and a waltz; and by that time Miss Hawes was giggling in +half-hysterical mirth over her partner's unusual sallies. She slapped +playfully at Lafe when he leaned close to her ear to whisper. + +"Say, you've got your nerve," she said, covering her face with her hands +in an ecstasy of laughter. + +"No, I ain't. Honest I ain't. I'm sure shy as a teeny li'l' rabbit with +other girls." + +"What makes you go to say them things then?" + +"You do. You make me brighten up a heap. And I'd kind of like to learn +to talk easy like the other boys." + +"You've got 'em backed into the cactus right now," said Grace, once more +overcome. + +The two were occupying one of the wooden benches ranged against the +walls. Johnson was obliged to give her up at this point to a man from +New Mexico. His visage was expressionless as he watched her depart and +then he crossed to the door to institute inquiries as to how this +interloper had contrived to get in. + +"Let's run him off," said Jim. "That big Hick ought to be in a +cotton-patch, anyhow." + +"No-oo. She'd think I was jealous. And I'm not caring; not me. She can +blister her feet for all of me, and he's a sure a-helping her. Watch him +tromp on her toes. Say, Buf'lo, that's the third time she's danced with +that there feller." + +"What're you getting all swelled up about, Lafe?" Haverty asked, +overhearing. "Quit your roaring. You mad just because Steve done took +your girl?" + +"Mad, hell!" said Johnson. "Who is this here Steve, Haverty?" + +"He done drifted in about a month ago. Works for the Tumbling K. You've +heard of him, Lafe? Shore you have. Goes by the name of Moffatt. He done +killed Hi Waggoner and Balaam Halsell and--" + +"Now I've got you. Sure. He's the gunfighter. So that's Steve Moffatt?" + +Lafe's eyes brightened and one would have thought that this discovery +was the only thing needed to complete his satisfaction. He grinned +genially at Moffatt when they chanced to meet at Miss Hawes's side, and +exchanged polite surmises on the outlook for more rain. Said Mr. +Johnson, knowing well to the contrary: "Running sheep?" + +"Cattle," said Moffatt shortly. + +He studied Lafe with an oblique glance, not at all sure that no insult +lurked in the query. Presently he whisked Miss Hawes away. The majority +of the gentlemen at the ball held their partners with both hands around +the shoulders, and this method afforded excellent opportunity for Grace +to gaze up into Moffatt's eyes. Her own were deep blue and singularly +enticing. Steve's were brown and very, very alert and steady, and Miss +Hawes rapidly discovered that they refused to waver and grow uncertain, +as was the habit of most masculine orbs. To Johnson, this exhibition +seemed crude, even raw. He went outside where the refreshments were +cached in order to find Buffalo. + +"Say, Jim, I swan that don't seem the right way to dance," he said. "It +don't look proper, hugging a girl that away." + +"Huh! It don't, hey? You took to it smart enough. You weren't hollering. +Why, you didn't know whether you was on the floor or on the roof, when +she had you going. It sort of made me tired, Lafe, the way you done. +Better leave her be." + +An uproar broke out in the dance hall, and Johnson sped away to +ascertain the cause and to quell it. Quiet descended as his foot touched +the doorstep--a swift, ominous quiet. He discovered Moffatt standing in +the corner occupied by the Mexican orchestra. One of the three players +sprawled on the floor, rubbing his head and sobbing, and in front of the +gunfighter was an abashed puncher from the Tumbling K range. + +"What did you hit him with that there stool for?" Moffatt asked, as Lafe +approached. + +"He weren't keeping good time," said the cowboy. "I done told him so +twice." + +"Go on and dance," Moffatt ordered. "Here, you. Here's your guitar. Take +to it. And when a gen'l'man asks you to slow up again, you slow up. +Savez?" + +Miss Hawes took his arm, with a soft, prideful sigh, and they moved off. +It was glorious to be the center of all eyes, and she was very proud of +him just then. He dominated the assembly with such disdainful unconcern. +She had seen the Tumbling K boy actually shrink. Realizing quickly the +need of smoothing out the situation, Lafe created a diversion. Advancing +to the center of the floor, he shouted: "The next'll be a quadrille. Get +your partners for a quadrille. Hi, everybody! Step to it." + +Thus harmlessly did the incident pass over. Lafe was famous at calling +off a dance and soon Grace found herself wavering in her allegiance. It +is true that Moffatt was extremely handsome, but Lafe had a way. He +might be too stooped and indolent for grace of movement, but--Johnson's +voice came to her over the heads of the whirling crowd, and she forgot +to reply to a question from her partner. + +"First lady to the right, the right hand gent the right hand round. +Partner by the left as you come round. Lady in the center, all hands +round," he yelled, and there was a swirl of skirts and lifting of dust +to stamping feet. + +"Head lady and opposite gent forward and back," he chanted again. + + Give right hand half way round; + Back with left, left hand round. + Promenade the corner as you come around. + +When the dance ended, it was the conventional thing for a gentleman to +abandon the lady where they chanced to find themselves at the moment and +go on about his business. Taking advantage of this custom, Lafe +descended upon Miss Hawes and bore her off; nor did he once give her up +until the stars paled in the sky. Then he asserted his right to take her +home. + +On the way he fell silent. All his glibness of tongue deserted him +abruptly, and Grace was mightily pleased over the symptom. + +"What's the matter, Mr. Lafe?" she asked. "Why don't you say a word?" + +"I'm studying over something," said Johnson. + +After a moment he inquired, without looking at her: "You done give me +two Paul Joneses, didn't you?" + +"Sure I did. Why? Weren't they enough?" + +"Yes. And four waltzes and four two-steps. Ain't that the tally?" + +"You've got it right. But what's the matter, Mr. Lafe?" + +"And you done let me have the Home Sweet Home waltz, too?" + +"Look a-here, Mr. Lafe, what're you driving at?" + +Johnson pondered darkly for a full minute. "What'd you give that feller +Steve?" he said finally. + +"You'd like to know, wouldn't you? Say, you've got your nerve." She +tilted her chin upwards and flashed a look at him. + +"What did you let that feller have?" he said again. + +"I won't tell you: so there. Not near so much as you got, Lafe Johnson. +Now, are you satisfied?" + +"Pretty near. Leastways, for a while." + +She gave Lafe her hand at parting, and he tried to draw her to him. It +was a half-hearted impulse, wholly lacking his customary dash. Grace +hesitated, flushed warmly; then, with a tremulous laugh, pushed him +back. + +"You certainly don't lose no time, do you, Lafe Johnson?" + +"I don't aim to." His voice was shaky. + +All that passed at the ball was perceived by Buffalo, who became greatly +exercised the next day over Lafe's extraordinary behavior. Instead of +establishing himself at pitch in the Fashion's back room, Johnson mooned +about town, or stared absently at the dust of the street whilst he +leaned against a post and whittled a stick. It was not as though he had +no money, for Jim had staked him. The cowboy took counsel of friends. +Buffalo Jim was disposed to hold Miss Hawes lightly. + +"I ain't no prude," he explained. "You boys know that right well. +You-all know me. I like a girl what's got ginger. But I don't figure on +marrying a whole can of it, nor I don't calculate to see ol' Lafe get it +smeared over him that way, neither." + +"Well, what're you aiming to do?" + +"Leave it to me. I'll fix it," said Jim. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AN INCIPIENT LOVE AFFAIR + + +In the afternoon Johnson called on Miss Hawes at the Cowboys' Rest, +where she bathed dishes and did other useful tasks. She was wearing a +pink dress with the neck cut low, and looked very neat and wholesome. +Nobody but a woman would have guessed that she had expected him. + +The sight of her put the finishing touches to Lafe. Within half an hour, +he was lost in speculation as to whether he could command sixty dollars +a month if he went to work for the Lazy L. And perhaps he might be given +the Ajos camp, with its comfortable adobe house and rosebushes in the +yard? He pictured her there. Lafe could almost hear the wild doves +cooing in the scrub-oak canon. + +Grace made him sing. + + Come, all you wild rovers, pay 'tention to me + While I tell to you my sad historee. + I'm a man of experience, no favors to gain; + Love's been the ruin of many a man. + +He droned it through his nose, with sharp yelps at the end of each line, +like a coyote in the full swing of his nightly paroxysm. + +"I don't like that song," she said decidedly. "Cut it out. It's fierce." + +"I reckon it ain't true," Lafe admitted lamely, and tried another, a +plaintive ditty of Little Joe, the horse wrangler. + +Hardly had he finished than Moffatt knocked and was admitted. Steve had +on a new, yellow silk neckerchief, and Johnson cursed his want of +foresight in not purchasing some finery. To-morrow that would be +rectified: he recalled a green one he had seen in the store window. + +The gunfighter let two six-shooters slip from his waist when he entered, +depositing them carefully on a chair. Local ordinances do not permit the +carrying of firearms in Badger, and Johnson was interested. + +"You travel well heeled?" he remarked. + +"Yes," said Moffatt, "but I don't talk about it." + +"Do you know, I'm always scared to pack a gun," Lafe went on pleasantly. +"You'll never see me with one, Miss Hawes." + +"Why not? I like them. They look so cute." + +"I'm always scared somebody'll twist the sights off'n it, or take the +doggone thing away and slap me." + +"Some fellers do get hurt trying for to pack a gun," Steve said. He +added critically: "You look stout enough." + +"I'm feeling pretty tol'able fair, thanks." + +When Lafe got home that night, Jim was sitting up for him, thumping his +heels against the edge of the bed. He was so much concerned for his +friend that he did not feel like sleep. After a tentative puff or two on +a cigarette, and some coughing, he got it out. Did Lafe know that Grace +Hawes--Johnson silenced him curtly, and they lay down, back to back. But +Buffalo was undaunted by a sleepless night. His was a staunch soul, and +early next morning he repaired to the Cowboys' Rest to interview Miss +Hawes. + +"You say he's been married before?" Grace cried. "Lafe Johnson is +married now, you say?" + +"Shore," said Jim, with a friendly smile. "That's a way ol' Lafe has. He +don't mean no harm, Miss Grace. He's just naturally playful. It's sort +of a habit he's got, getting married--sort of a hobby like." + +"Hobby? I'll hobby him--hobby him good. How often has he had the habit? +How many wives has he got now, Mr. Buf'lo?" + +"Oh, not a great many. I don't rightly know, but--" + +"And these--these wives and fam'lies? Where are they?" + +"There ain't many fam'lies," Jim corrected, beginning to regret his +interference. "Not a great many fam'lies, Miss Hawes. Just a few, +scattered here and there." + +"Get out!" said Miss Hawes. "Get out, and don't you never show your face +round here again. Married? Huh, you can't go to fool me! You quit +trying to crowd into my affairs or it'll be the worse for you, Mr. +Buf'lo." + +"Certainly, ma'am. Certainly, Miss Grace," Jim said, seizing his hat. +"Excuse me, ma'am, will you, please?" + +He decided to say nothing of the visit to Lafe. + +When Johnson reached the Cowboys' Rest that evening, Moffatt was already +ensconced in the wicker rocking-chair. Lafe was momentarily cast down. A +conference had revealed that he and Buffalo had no more money. They must +go in search of work without delay. + +"Oh, Mr. Lafe," was Grace's greeting, "guess what! I've been asking +Steve about shooting, and he done promised to keep a can in the air for +five shots to-morrow." + +"That's good shooting," said Johnson, accepting a chair. + +"Ain't it wonderful? I do love a man who can shoot. When I marry, I want +a man who knows how to keep other men scared. I used to tell my sister +back in Abilene--she ain't like me. No, indeed. She's a society lady, my +sister is. I done said to her, 'Mary Lou, when--'" + +"Yes, it takes nerve to be a gunfighter," Lafe interrupted. + +"Oh, it's grand, I think." Miss Hawes clasped her hands and rolled her +eyes. + +"Yes, sir; yes, ma'am, it sure takes nerve. A gunfighter always gives +the other feller an even break. And he don't care how even it is, does +he, Moffatt?" + +"I don't take you," Moffatt said doubtfully. + +"Why, there's all kinds of nerve in this world, Miss Hawes," said Lafe. +"When a man knows he's better at a thing than the next man, he's liable +to be awful nervy. Take a bronc buster, now. He knows he can clean a +horse, and he ain't scared so you could notice it. And a gunman. If the +other feller was a mite quicker, I wonder if he'd--What do you think?" + +Said Moffatt: "I don't know what you're driving at." + +"Well, look a-here. Supposing I was to put it up to a gunfighter--to Mr. +Moffatt here, say--'Let's go into that back room with just our bare +hands and lock the door and lay the key on the table.'" + +"What for?" Miss Hawes asked breathlessly. + +"The best man to open it--I wonder now what a gunman--what Mr. Moffatt +here--would say to that?" + +"I ain't a fool," was what Moffatt had to say to that. + +"Or," Lafe resumed, "what if I put it up this way to some of them +terrible fighters? What if I said, 'Let's put two guns on a table, draw +off to opposite sides of the room, let another feller count three, and +the man who gets to 'em first, lives?'" + +None of the three moved when Johnson had finished. The alarm clock on +the flimsy, draped mantel-shelf ticked loudly. Miss Hawes's breathing +sounded strained. + +"Ol' man Haverty wanted to see you down at the Fashion, Moffatt," Lafe +said at last. + +"You coming, too?" + +"I reckon so." + +"You're on," said Moffatt. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +DISCOMFITURE OF A GUNFIGHTER + + +Grace accompanied them to the door. + +"Everybody'll know you're fighting about me," she whispered, twittering +with excitement. "Everybody is sure to know the row is over me?" + +"Yes. I'm afraid so," said Lafe, staring at her. + +"Oh. All the girls will be wild." + +There was not an instant's hesitation in Haverty's acceptance of the +mastership of ceremonies. He took Moffatt's two guns, examined them +thoroughly and removed the cartridges. The weapons were exactly alike. +Then he reloaded them and stationed the men. + +"Both your hosses is ready saddled," he announced. "So one of you kin +get over the Border." + +"That suits me," said Steve. + +They were stationed in opposite corners of the rear room in the Fashion, +a table placed accurately half-way between. On the table were two +six-shooters, the butts outward. Johnson had the ball of one foot braced +against the wall. + +"All ready?" Haverty said crisply. "One--two--three!" + +Johnson gained the middle of the room at a bound, seizing his gun and +overturning the table with one movement. It crashed against Moffatt's +chest and his hands failed to grasp the weapon. Lafe jammed the .45 +close to his ribs and pulled twice. + +"Help, boys!" Moffatt shrieked, sinking to the floor. "Help! He's +murdering me!" + +He threw an arm upward, as though to ward off the death he had meted out +to others. Johnson remained over him, the smoking gun in his hand. + +"Get up," he said. "Get up and run." + +"I can't. You got me twice. I'm done for, I reckon." + +"Pshaw!" said Haverty. "You ain't even hit. Just scorched, Moffatt. Them +was blank kattridges." + +From the floor, the gunfighter gazed stupidly at the two. He arose +slowly and dusted himself. + +Outside in the crowded bar, nobody ventured to gibe at him, for Moffatt +was always a dangerous man, and most dangerous when beaten or +humiliated. He went quickly in search of his horse. + +"You'd better go back to Grace," Johnson said, following to see him +safely out of town. + +"Not me. I'm overdue at the ranch already. She's yours. I wish you joy +of her, Lafe." + +He rode out of town at a purposely slow dogtrot. Some time afterward he +killed a Mexican vaquero in a dispute over a bridle, and fled south. + +Johnson was saddling next day, when Grace Hawes swept into the yard of +the stable and confronted him. + +"What's this I hear?" she shrilled. "What's the meaning of it, Lafe +Johnson? Where're you going?" + +"I've got to go to the ranch to-day, Grace." + +"You mean you're through with me, Lafe Johnson?" + +"I wouldn't go to put it that way, Grace. Don't take on so." + +"I will--I will! I don't care who hears. You're a villain--that's what +you are. You promised last night--you said--" + +"A man had ought to be sociable with ladies," said Lafe, busy with the +cinch. + +"You done run off a man who was worth two of you any day, Lafe Johnson. +And then you go to leave me. You leave me here to be laughed at. You ... +here, wait. Don't go, Lafe. Lafe, I didn't mean ... please, Lafe ... oh, +please ..." + +Johnson and Buffalo ambled side by side along a mesa covered with +mesquite. Jim had promise of a job from Floyd and assured Johnson of +one, also. Both planned to eschew the frivolities of city life +henceforth. Buffalo asked suddenly: "What made you draw off so sudden +that way, Lafe?" + +Johnson grinned at him. + +"It's right queer, Jim," he said. "But when she saw us off to go to +fighting, some way I begun to think of my li'l' sister. You knew my +sister Kitty, back in Texas, didn't you, Buf'lo? She's got yallow +hair." + +"I shore did," said Jim, in some confusion. + +"Well, I sort of begun to wonder what I'd think of Kitty if she served a +man like that. It was all off then. If Kitty tried a game like that, +Buf'lo, I'd sure take to her right smart with a rope end." + +"Me and you both," Jim said heartily. + +They rode onward toward the Lazy L headquarters, one whistling, the +other smiling over memories. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +JOHNSON IS ELECTED SHERIFF OF BADGER + + +For you or for me a certain embarrassment would attach to a return to +work at a place we had sworn to avoid forever. Nothing of the sort +appeared to trouble Buffalo Jim. A month previous he had left the Lazy +L, scornful of cow work, vowing that he would live like a gentleman all +his days. Now, penniless and unrepentant, he came back as a matter of +course. + +Indeed, Shortredge put his horses into the corral at headquarters as a +man might who had reached home from a long trip. And there was not a +vestige of surprise on Floyd's face when he greeted Jim. He did it +casually, and shook hands with Lafe and said that he was glad to see +him. Then he gave Buffalo certain orders for the morrow, touching the +matter of salt for the cattle, just as though Jim had never been off the +ranch. The cowboy merely said: "You stayed a week longer'n we figured +on, Buf'lo." + +So Buffalo Jim went to work at daybreak and Johnson loitered at +headquarters. Mrs. Floyd was unaffectedly glad to see him and was not +too inquisitive as to why he happened to be there. Indeed, she appeared +to take his arrival as quite natural, which spared Lafe much confusion. +He played with Tommy most of the time, and on the third day of his stay +he sounded Floyd on the subject of a job. The boss had expected it, and +surmising that Lafe was hard up, attempted to drive a hard bargain. A +prudent man, such was his practice. It may be, too, that the boss did +not especially relish the notion of Johnson being permanently on the +place. + +"Oh, no," said Lafe, "I couldn't take that." + +He was never one to accept anything handed him merely because his +situation looked desperate. That policy of compromise might befit the +weak, but Johnson was made of sterner stuff. No matter in what straits +his mistakes landed him, he forever kept his own valuation at a certain +figure. And usually other men accepted his estimate. + +"That's the best I can do," Floyd ended. "I've got a range boss already, +and a top hand ain't worth over fifty a month, Lafe." + +"All right. I'll be drifting." + +"Stick around a bit, anyhow. We might strike a trade later. Say, come up +to the house. The missus wants you to stay with us instead of down here +at the bunkhouse." + +"Thanks," said Lafe, "but your cook's been sick since that weddin'. No, +I reckon I'd best hang round with the boys down here." + +He remained at the Lazy L a week, half expecting that Horne would send +a message to bespeak his services again. In paying him off, the cowman +had intimated that he would shortly have other deals to be put through. +A message arrived, but not from the cattle buyer. The bearer came, he +said, from Turner, the storekeeper and justice of the peace of Badger. +After listening for a moment, Lafe led him behind the barn for further +converse. + +"They want me to run for Sheriff of Badger," he told Buffalo Jim that +night. + +"Go to it," said Jim. "It'll make the town a heap pleasanter for us. +We'll feel safer. The boys'll sure be pleased." + +It would appear that Johnson's bloodless defeat of Moffatt had made a +deep appeal to the citizens of Badger. They reasoned that a man who +dared make a fool of a notorious character should be able to make short +work of lesser fry. Accordingly, their message was that the law-abiding +residents of the town were desirous of securing Mr. Johnson's services; +and would he come forthwith? To this Lafe answered that he would return +to Badger in a day or two, and the messenger departed. And for two solid +days Johnson dawdled about headquarters, absolutely idle. He had an idea +that to show eagerness would be to weaken his position. This surmise +proved correct. + +Badger leaped at once to the conclusion that they could not get him. +Yes, he had seemed reluctant, said the messenger. Now, the average man +does not want a thing badly until he is persuaded he can obtain it only +by strenuous effort. And masses are like individuals, in this respect. +That was why, as Lafe approached the town, he met a small party of +horsemen headed for the Lazy L. It was a deputation of citizens, set out +to cajole him into accepting the office. Briefly and earnestly they +explained how things stood in Badger. + +"All right," said Lafe, "I'll run. But remember this--when I'm elected, +you-all look alike to me. I won't play favorites. There'll be law and +order in Badger." + +"Sure," the committee agreed. "That's the ticket, Lafe. Well, let's have +a li'l' touch, just for luck." + +Johnson's opponent in the election was simply nowhere. The tale of +Lafe's prowess grew with every telling. Tim Haverty asserted on his +hopes of heaven that Lafe could take a six-shooter and drive the nails +into the shoes of a running horse. Personally, I suspect Mr. Haverty to +have been guilty of some slight exaggeration. Still, there was ample +evidence that Johnson could handle a gun, and nobody on the Border +doubted his courage. Led by Turner, the respectable element voted for +him as a unit. The others--the hard drinkers, and the gamblers, and men +of no steady means of support--ranged with Lafe, too. They had known him +as a "good fellow," a man liberal with his money and equally liberal in +his views. Therefore they anticipated no trouble to themselves from his +election. + +In this manner was Lafe Johnson elected sheriff of Badger. When made +acquainted with the result, he took a long breath and grew very solemn. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "I thank you for your support. And I'll sure do my +duty." + +The opportunity was afforded him that same night. Some of them who had +worked most ardently for Lafe were gathered in the Cowboys' Rest, and +there was considerable drinking. A dispute arose, and in the course of +it the landlord laid out one of the disputants with a chair. A panicky +person fired a gun. That brought Lafe into the Rest at a quick run. + +"Stop it," he shouted. "The very first man who pulls a gun goes against +me. Tommy, give me that six-shooter. Now, you get out and wait for me." + +He broke Tommy's gun and motioned him outside. Then Johnson examined the +injured man on the floor. He was badly hurt. + +"You'll have to come along with me," he told the landlord. + +"Go along with you? Go along--why, Lafe, I just had to hit him." The +landlord could hardly believe his ears. Had he not repeated three times +for Lafe in the election? + +"You can explain that to the judge. Come on, now. Get moving." + +The landlord gaped a moment and then announced that he hoped to be +damned if he went. If Lafe thought he could double-cross him in that +manner, he had a few things to learn. The sheriff made a step forward +and the landlord reached under the bar for his .45. Before he could +raise it, Johnson gripped his wrist and with his free hand struck him +over the head with the butt of Tommy's gun. The landlord gave a grunt +and dropped into the sheriff's arms like a sack of meal. Five minutes +later he went before the justice of the peace very quietly, along with +Tommy. + +"Understand me"--the new sheriff faced the crowd that followed, some of +them murmuring--"I'd arrest my best friend if he broke the law. Remember +that." + +"Hell, Lafe," they protested, "this is running it over us." + +"We're going to have order here in Badger. Come on, you two," said +Johnson. + +Then he went bail for his prisoners. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A FEUD AND WHAT CAME OF IT + + +They had hanged a man in the Willows. He was swinging from a lower limb +of a tree sixteen feet in diameter--the natives call it the Mother of +Cottonwoods. The sheriff of Badger and I cut him down, and because the +time was summer and the flies were bad, we buried him with all haste in +the sand, beside a chiming stream. Then, that no prowler might despoil, +we piled rocks above, and got to horse without delay. + +"He don't look like nothing now," said Lafe, "but it's Tom Rooker. You +remember ol' Rooker? He always bummed his drinks, Tom did." + +We rode through a pleasant grove, where it was eternally twilight by +day. A squirrel chattered above us and the stream whispered here in a +sandy bed. At a bend, we came upon three cows wading belly-deep in the +current and eating of watercress. Some birds cheeped in a leafy thicket +beside the trail. The Willows was a paradise. Then a black shadow +flitted in front, as we emerged into a glade where the light was +stronger, and a bleary buzzard settled leisurely on the topmost branch +of a tree. He gazed at us with calm insolence. I looked hastily away, +remembering what we had laid out. + +After a while, the sheriff said: "I shouldn't have left town, Dan. I +shouldn't have gone." + +"You had to go." + +"They wouldn't have got away with it, if I'd been home. Poor ol' Tom--he +was awful good-natured when he was sober." + +We left the Willows behind and traversed open country, heading up the +San Pedro Valley. As we went, the sheriff talked of the hanging. He +spoke in a hushed tone, as though there were ears to hear; or, it may +be, he could not get the dead man out of his thoughts. + +"This is some of Bud Walton's work," he said. + +It did not appear probable to me. Walton could have shot Tom with much +less bother and unpleasantness. + +"Bud might not have done it himself. No, he wouldn't. But some of his +friends done it for him." Lafe slapped his thigh in passionate +determination. "I tell you, Dan, I'm a-going to put a stop to this +trouble. Fellers like them are keeping this country back. Either Bud or +Jeff have got to come to a showdown, or get out of Badger." + +"Go to it. That's what they put you in for." + +"I know," he said, with a return to gloom, "but you can't do everything +in six months. I've got to move according to law, being how I am +situated. And they've been awful careful, them two have." + +He fell to communing with himself, and we went steadily forward, the +ponies shuffling the dust in a dejected chop-trot. It was almost noon, +and the heat waves were lifting from the ground like the smoke of an oil +flame. We passed a dead tree, and the sheriff roused from reverie. + +"They done hung Dave Pearsall from there six years back," he said, with +a jerk of his head. + +I glanced around for the grave, it being the custom to inter close to +the scene of the taking-off. + +"It's over beyond. No, you can't see it, 'count of that rise. But you +get your eye on that tree. Notice? And now the Mother of Cottonwoods'll +die, too." + +"Pshaw!" said I, laughing. "You don't believe that old woman's tale, do +you?" + +"Of course, now," he said patiently, "you know better." + +Many cowmen had voiced the superstition, but the sheriff had not struck +me as of a credulous type. + +"I've knowed eight men to be strung up on eight big, sound trees," he +went on, "and I've seen eight trees that looked as if the devil had +smashed 'em. Blasted. Yes, sir; dead as a rat and deader. You wait and +see." + +Presently he began to speak of the feud which had been the bane of his +office during four of the six months of his tenure. When I proffered the +suggestion, in a spirit of hope, that there must have been a beautiful +fight before the Walton faction secured Rooker, he dismissed that +possibility with an impatient snort. It was like that Jeff Thomas had +been away, he said; probably south of the Border, on some meanness or +other. As for Tom, he had not mixed much in the trouble in town. Perhaps +they had picked on him because he was Jeff's closest friend. + +"We'll know right soon now. Gee, ain't the heat a fright? Say, Dan, if +you take my advice, you'll hit the grit out of Badger just as hard as +you can make it." + +I resolutely declined to hit the grit as proposed. Soon we came in sight +of the town. It showed uncertainly on the horizon like a lake of mist, +with a few wavering windmills swaying therein; it might have been an +impressionistic painting of a Dutch canal. A mile from the first house, +the sheriff pulled up and bade me remain where I was, whilst he entered +Badger. His instructions were that I should hold back for ten minutes +precisely, then proceed casually into town, leaving my horse at the +cattle company's corral, and meet him at dinner in the Fashion. + +"No, you can't come with me," he said. "So let that soak into your hide. +It's like some fool will start something and I don't want you on my +mind. You'd only be in the way." + +This was not flattering, but every man to his business. The sheriff made +preparations for his by looking carefully to his six-shooter. Then he +nodded and rode ahead into Badger. Ten minutes and ten seconds later, I +followed. + +Badger suggests in its exterior a woman of the street, made up carefully +as to the face and run-down at the heel. To left and to right as you +enter from the west, are the Fashion and the Cowboys' Rest, both of +frame, and pretentious structures for that region. Then there is the +Wells-Fargo express office, with a tin roof which catches all the heat +of the ages and sends it sizzling over Badger. There are a general store +and a butcher shop; two Eating Houses, one at the Fashion, the other +conducted by a Chinaman; and a broken line of one-story, two-roomed +dwellings of rough boards. Beyond that again, a few adobe huts straggle +for a full half-mile. They are the abodes of natives. The cattle +company's corral is at the extreme edge of town, and there is a stable +attached. From there one can see the habitation of Dutch Annie and her +handmaidens. Usually the tinkle of a piano greets the wayfarer, and +sometimes bursts of laughter which have no tinkle in them, nor any +musical quality whatever. + +The sheriff's horse slouched in front of the Fashion as I proceeded down +the street. Not a human being moved in sight. The express agent waved a +friendly hand at me from the interior of his darkened office, and +bestowed a sardonic grin. Then he made a fanciful gesture, as of drawing +a loop around his neck. Next, he was fighting violently for breath, and +he was still engaged in this agreeable pantomime when I passed beyond +his ken. A mongrel collie, stretched in the hot dust, retreated +sluggishly to give me right of way, and, sitting on his rump, began to +scratch for fleas. + +"Say, Dan, hell's a-poppin'," said Tim Haverty cheerfully. + +Mr. Haverty takes care of the company's corral and counts that day lost +when no fracas promises. He told me all about it now, with a most unholy +glee, although he is an old, old man, who ought to be giving thought to +heavenly things. + +His tale ran thus--the town of Badger was divided against itself. Jeff +Thomas had come up from the south, weary of Mexican chuck and sullen +from failure. He had said nothing when informed of Tom Rooker's demise +and the manner thereof, but, amply refreshed, had started a hunt for +Walton in order to fasten a row on him. It happened that Bud was away in +the mountains when his enemy made the round of his usual haunts, and +Jeff's slowly enunciated insults to Bud's adherents had not been taken +up. So, fearing an outbreak that would stain Badger's fair name, the +express agent and the general-store man, the butcher, and five other +reputable citizens had proposed a compromise, in order to preserve +peace--to wit, a division of the city of Badger. All north of the street +was to be Thomas' hunting ground; the section to the south was free to +Bud to wander in at his pleasure. Both men had been prevailed upon to +accept this arbitration--Thomas, with a show of reluctance, but real +willingness; the other, grudgingly, after persuasion. + +"If you ast me," said Old Man Haverty judicially, "if you ast me, Dan, +I'd say Bud has got it on Thomas in some ways. Yes, sir; Jeff, he's +scared of that feller, except when he's good and mad." + +Such apportionment of a town has not been uncommon in the southwest in +times past. I know of two communities similarly divided, at present +writing. The armistice makes for temporary peace, but has a decided +tendency to be irksome to citizens who would be nonpartisan, and it +usually ends by a casual trespass, or one of intent, prompted by bravado +or rye. After which the deceased gentleman's record is thoroughly +threshed out and it is agreed on all sides that he was a pretty good +fellow, "but--" + +The sheriff and I sat later at a table in the Fashion, toying with a +pile of dominoes. And we discussed these things. It is etiquette for a +visitor, on entering the city, to hand over his gun to the bartender of +the first place of call. This signifies that his designs are peaceful, +and perhaps honest, and it also keeps him out of a heap of mischief. +Besides, if he does not do that, the sheriff is apt to seek him out and +take the weapon, anyway. Therefore, the gentleman who was swabbing the +bar with a damp towel had possession of my .45 Colt. + +Night fell. Daniel Boone--fat and fifty, who claimed descent from the +great pioneer--was at a table in a corner by himself, practicing +sleight-of-hand with a pack of cards, faro being his profession. If luck +favored Daniel, some plump lamb would be delivered to his fleecing +before another dawn broke. + +Jeff Thomas came in, walked to the bar and ordered a drink. The Fashion +being on his domain, this occasioned no surprise. Then he espied the +sheriff and clanked across to our table. + +"Hello, Johnson. Say, Walton's been making threats against my life," he +said. + +"Huh-huh?" said the sheriff carelessly. "Seems to me, Jeff, him and you +both've been doing a pile of talking." + +"But he done told some fellers he'd get me inside forty-eight hours." + +"I reckon you'd better keep out of his way, then, Jeff." + +"But look here, Johnson--oh, pshaw, let's talk sense. He's made threats, +I tell you. I done got a permit from the justice of the peace to pack a +gun. Turner, he give it to me for my own protection." + +"Well?" + +"Well? WELL? What're you going to do about it? That's what I want to +know. You're sheriff, ain't you?" + +My friend lighted a cigarette from the stub of another. Afterwards he +studied the nails of his fingers with elaborate interest. A protracted +pause, and he addressed a casual remark to me as though Thomas were not +present. + +"Cut that, Johnson. I'm a-talking to you. What're you going to do about +it?" + +On this, the sheriff whirled sharply in his chair. He clipped his words, +so that each seemed to snap. + +"I'll show you what I'll do. You two yellow pups start something, and +I'll show you what I'll do." + +Daniel Boone folded his cards and stole softly out of the room. I looked +furtively for a sheltering nook. Only the shiny top of the bartender's +bald head was now visible above a beer keg. But either Thomas did not +want a row, or he could not afford one. + +"Well," he said finally, with an uncertain laugh, "that's different +again, ain't it? There's no use getting all swelled up about this thing, +Lafe. Let's have a snort." + +When the ceremony had been fitly observed, Thomas seated himself at the +third table in the saloon, in no very good humor, and removed his hat. +Shortly Daniel Boone returned, padding in like a wary cat, and resumed +his interrupted studies of faro and its uses. We settled once more to +our talk and piled the dominoes in unreckoned combinations. + +The main door opens directly from the saloon on to the street. At the +far end of the bar is another door, which leads into a dining-room that +is run as an annex to the Fashion. Jeff occupied the table nearest the +bar, sitting sideways to it so as to face the entrance. Back of him was +a doorless exit, which gave on to a dark passage. This led somewhere +into the outer back-regions and was in frequent demand when a patron +found himself overcome by the fumes of rejoicing and desired air, +without publicity. + +In the corner remote from the street Mr. Boone was established, his legs +embracing the legs of a chair, and he placidly dealt cards to an +imaginary player. The sheriff and I were in the left foreground, close +enough to the window to see through it, had a curtain not been +discreetly drawn to the height of a grown man's head. + +Tilly entered from the dining-room, patting her hair with both hands, +and tarried for an instant at the bar, talking to the man behind it. She +waited on table in the Fashion annex, and was not without charm, both of +person and mind. Indeed, her repartee would set a room to laughing, +being forceful as a clout on the head; which may have been why she was +sought after by sundry residents of those parts for wife. Whence she +came or why, nobody knew. Badger held her for an honest girl, in spite +of what Tilly's unchampioned contact with the world had done to rub off +the first blush. Leaving the bartender choking with delight, Tilly +sauntered over to Jeff's table, where she pretended to examine the +snake-skin band of his hat. We saw her speak to him, but could not catch +the words. He glanced up alertly and gave an emphatic nod. + +"Well, well," murmured the sheriff, and smiled. When she had gone back +to the dining-room--pausing to exchange a last cheerful sally with her +friend of the bottles--the sheriff said: "Dan, there's a mighty fine +girl. Or I reckon I ought to say 'woman.' If she'd only got a different +start--" + +"What about it?" + +"You can see for yourself. She's getting tougher in her talk every day. +If Tilly don't hitch up soon--why, look at the way these fellers are +running after her--" + +"But," I said, for I had faith in Tilly, "they're all crazy about her. +Don't you fret. That girl's the gamest girl I ever saw, Lafe. She can +take care of herself. Sure they run after her. They all want to marry +her." + +"Some of 'em do--yes--but--" he broke off and considered for a moment. +"Did I ever tell you how Bud Walton run it over that big Slim Terry? He +done run him out of town. Slim was awful stuck on Tilly, too." + +"What did Tilly do?" + +"What could she do? She wouldn't believe it first when Bud told her. +Then she swore most dreadful. She slapped Bud's face, too--a little +later, this was." + +A boy shoved his head inside the saloon and peered all about. It was +Turner's youngest son, an urchin of about twelve years. + +"Say, Mr. Johnson," he piped, "Sam wants you over to the express office +right away. He says he cain't leave, so for you to come." + +"All right, Tommy, boy. You run home quick and draw some water for your +ma. Drag it, now." The head withdrew. "This ain't no place for a boy to +be round. Sam ought to have more sense. Wait here, Dan. I'll be back in +a shake." + +The sheriff rose and stretched himself, with a yawn. Then he went out +and crossed the street. + +Daniel Boone was blowing through his loose, thick lips, as he sorted the +cards. The bartender read a much-thumbed letter, and I builded a fort of +my pile of dominoes. We heard a firm, swift chink of spur rowels, and +Bud Walton strode into the Fashion. + +"So," he said. "Now, I've got you." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +AN INQUEST AND A SURPRISE + + +I was looking toward Thomas at the moment. His face blanched, but his +hand sped to his breast, where a gun was secreted in a holster sewed to +the inside of his shirt bosom. Before he could draw, Walton pulled on +him once. This much I saw and then dived under the table. There came +another shot. Bud stood a second or two, with a sort of wondering, +puzzled look in his eyes. He swayed and sank gently to the floor, almost +within touch of his enemy. + +Jeff lurched to his feet and leaned over the fallen man. He fired twice +in quick succession, but his hand shook so that the bullets tore +splinters in the boarding at either side of Walton. Then he desisted and +stood waiting, the six-shooter hanging limply from his fingers. + +"There," he said, as the sheriff ran in. "You see, I've done it. I've +killed the bastard." + +The sheriff knelt beside Bud and turned him over. Walton was shot +through the forehead and must have been dead before he hit the floor. + +"Hem," said the sheriff. He got up and requested the surrender of +Jeff's gun, which was given up without question. Johnson inspected it +with care. + +"You fired three, hey, Jeff?" + +"Three," answered the other, his gaze fixed on the body. + +The sheriff was scrutinizing the six-shooter and its empty chambers. He +scratched his head. Thomas turned to the bar. His nostrils were +straining and there was an unnatural distension of the eye-balls. + +"Gimme a drink," he said. + +Daniel Boone emerged from the corner where he had thrown himself flat, +and the Fashion filled with men. They grouped in a semi-circle about the +corpse and regarded it soberly. + +"You're under arrest, Jeff," said the sheriff. + +"Sure." + +"Gentlemen, I'll have to ask you-all to leave. Clear the bar, gentlemen, +please. The inquest'll be to-morrow morning over in Bob Turner's place. +Step lively, gentlemen. I've got a pile of things to do." + +I was shoved from the saloon with the others and went only too +willingly. Shortly afterwards three men bore the remains of Walton out +of the Fashion and laid them in an empty room above Turner's store. The +proprietor was justice of the peace and would sit as coroner. + +Badger filled the court-room on the morrow. The crowd overflowed into +the street, and there was much jostling and frantic efforts at peering +over the heads of neighbors; also, requests to witnesses to speak +louder, that all might hear. Follows a rough transcript of the evidence +presented. + +Bartender.--It was ten o'clock. There was nobody in the bar except Dan +Boone--he was playing solitaire in the far corner--and Jeff Thomas, and +a fat party unknown to him. The fat party had come in with the sheriff +and sat over against the window. Jeff was alone and was monkeying with +his fingers on the table--sort of playing tunes. He, the bartender, was +reading a letter from a lady who lived in Silver City--a right nice, +respectable lady--when Bud came in on the jump. He yelled something at +Jeff and they took to shooting. That's all he saw, because he hid behind +the beer-keg immediately. Yes, he had heard shots. Four, he thought, but +he could not be sure. The bartender rubbed his bald spot and added that +there seemed to be five, but he would not swear to that--they came so +fast. + +Daniel Boone.--He had seen nothing at all, but had heard shots. No, he +could not say how many. Then, when the sheriff came back, he saw Bud +Walton lying dead and Jeff standing over him, a little to one side. + +Myself.--A boy had summoned the sheriff to the express office while he +and I were seated in the Fashion, playing dominoes. Soon afterwards a +man entered quickly--yes, it was the man whose body lay upstairs--and +yelled at Thomas that he had got him now. Thomas was alone at a table +in the center of the room. He was strumming with his fingers on the +table. The visitor fired first; then there was another shot, and he +dropped to the floor. After he fell, Thomas shot twice. He missed him +both times. + +Tommy Turner.--Bud Walton had sent him with a message to the sheriff in +the Fashion. The message was that Lafe was wanted at the express office +right away. + +Thereupon the coroner requested the survivor for his version of the +fight. + +Jeff Thomas.--He was waiting in the Fashion for one of the Lazy L boys +to come along. They had a horse trade on. Bud Walton appeared at the +door. He pulled a gun on him. Bud got the first shot in--he was positive +of that. He fired once and Walton went down. Not being certain Bud was +really done for, he pulled a couple of times more, but thought he had +missed. + +Yes, they had long been enemies. Walton was always abusing him behind +his back. He had made threats. Some of his friends had strung up Tom +Rooker, too. Tom wouldn't never harm a fly in his life. Only the day +before, Bud had told some men Jeff knew, that he would get Thomas within +forty-eight hours. So witness had asked for a permit to carry a gun. Mr. +Turner knew about this. He had given the permit. + +The coroner.--"Did you expect him last night?" + +Thomas hesitated perceptibly. "Yes, I did," he said. + +"What made you?" + +"Somebody tipped me off he might be coming. I'd rather not say who it +was." + +Coroner.--"Where did Walton's shot go?" + +"Here," said the prisoner. + +He fished in his pocket and drew out a Bible. The crowd craned their +necks and swayed toward it eagerly. + +"Why, that's mine," the coroner said. + +It was, in truth, one that Bob had carried off as a Sunday School prize, +when a boy, in Ohio. It was so stiff that the cover cracked when it was +opened; but the leather binding was ripped and torn, and the leaves were +plowed into pulp for three-fourths of its thickness. At this point the +sheriff explained that the bullet had been deflected into the solid wood +of the table. He had dug it out. + +Coroner.--"Where did you get this here book?" + +The gunfighter looked rather sheepish. + +"I'm sort of superstitious," he confessed, "and when I seen that in your +office the other day, Bob, I stuck it inside my shirt." + +A murmur swept over the court-room and beat against the walls. + +Coroner.--"You've killed six men, ain't you?" + +"No, sir; you're wrong. Only four," Thomas corrected, licking his dry +lips. + +"Gen'l'men," said the coroner, not without sternness toward Thomas, +"this hits me like so plain a case of shooting in self-defense, that I +reckon we don't need to bother no more about the evidence." + +"Hold on," the sheriff said. "Hold on, there; I'd like for to say +something." + +Being duly sworn, he started off like this: "Gentlemen, this wasn't a +killing. It was a murder." + +Everybody waited open-mouthed to hear more. Thomas turned on him a +quick, startled glance. Then someone said: "What's the matter with you, +Lafe?" + +"It's just what I done said. Murder." + +There was a stir, and a ripple of unbelieving laughter. "Order!" the +coroner cried. He was looking to Johnson for explanation. + +"I was kind of wondering," the prisoner muttered, half aloud, as though +not altogether surprised at the turn of events. + +"Yes, sir, Bud Walton was murdered. This man here didn't kill him at +all. Here's Jeff's gun. Take a look at it. It's a .45. Bud, he was +killed with a 30-30 rifle. Here's the bullet. Jeff's first shot went way +above his head into the ceiling, and the next two are in the boards." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A JOURNEY TO SATAN'S KINGDOM + + +"What're you giving us?" "Go on, Lafe." "Hush, let's hear him." "Quit +crowding there, will you?" "Say, are you looking for trouble?" "Well, +quit it." It was long before quiet could be obtained. + +The sheriff waited for absolute silence before taking up the thread of +his explanation again. Then he said, slowly scanning the faces around +him--"Mr. Coroner, if you'll adjourn this here court for two days, I'll +bring the murderer here." + +The inquest adjourned in confusion. Thomas was released, only to be +rearrested. + +"I'll learn fellers like you a lesson," the sheriff told him. "Bob, give +him thirty days for stealing that there Bible of yours." + +The justice of the peace imposed the sentence with alacrity. It had the +appearance of spite, but Jeff exhibited no resentment and left for the +county town in charge of a deputy, without a word of protest. To me, he +appeared a broken man. + +Not a word of enlightenment would the sheriff give, although all Badger +was agog with excitement and babbled questions wherever he moved. They +would cling to his arm in their eagerness, but he shook them off. At +dinner, he ordered me to fetch my horse, for he planned a hard ride. + +It was early afternoon when we set out for Satan's Kingdom. Our way took +us through the Willows, which we threaded at dusk. We were passing a +certain pile of rocks, when the sheriff pointed with his forefinger. + +"Look," he said. + +The Mother of Cottonwoods towered above the lesser trees, plain to the +sight. She was black and stark, bare as though blasted by lightning. We +jogged along mutely. + +"Look a-here," the sheriff said, as we neared the mountain village, "you +done heard that shooting. What did you hear? Tell me as near as you +can." + +I strove to focus all my faculties on the task. + +"There was a first shot--that must have been Bud's." + +"Never mind whose it was," said Johnson. + +"Then there seemed to be two very close together. I'm not sure about +that, Lafe, because it might have been one, sort of drawn out. But I was +watching Jeff's hand and it looked only half-way out of his shirt when +that second shot started." + +"Good. How did it sound?" + +"Well, she began with more of a ring to her--sharper than a +six-shooter--and she ended heavily, just like a .45." + +"Sure," he said, with great satisfaction. "That was the 30-30. It just +beat Jeff to the mark. Why didn't you tell that at the inquest?" + +"I wasn't sure," I answered lamely. "Nobody would have believed me, +anyway." + +"So you think a feller ought to tell only what he figures folks will +believe? Well, it don't matter. Don't get hot. Listen. We'll bring back +the feller who shot Bud, to-night or to-morrow. He was hiding in that +dark hall back of Thomas, just waiting for a chance. As quick as I saw +the hole in Bud's head, I said to myself, 'A .45 never made that, son.' +No, sir; I sure knew that 30-30 mark." + +"How did you know where it came from?" + +"That's easy. Bud was shot in front, wasn't he? Well, Jeff didn't do it, +so I hunted in that passage to find out who did. Sure enough, a feller +had braced himself with his hand on the wall. He was a powerful big +brute, too--more'n six feet high, easy." + +The sheriff chuckled, pleased as a boy with his own astuteness. + +"Say, Dan, it's almost funny the way things turn out. Ol' Miguel, the +lazy rascal, he done left a tin of axle grease on a shelf beside the +back door, and when this feller come in and went sneaking along the +hall, a-feeling his way so as not to make a noise, he stuck his hand +into it. Then he leaned with that hand bracing him, while he waited for +Bud. Do you get that? That was the hand he leaned on. Wouldn't that most +scare you? That gives his size away. Why couldn't his luck have made him +lean with the other hand? I tell you, it makes a man think." + +He would not talk more on the subject and evinced impatience when +pressed. We put up at Kelley's place in the Kingdom, and the sheriff had +a few words with Kelley himself before we ate a meal specially prepared +for us. + +"No, he ain't here just now," Kelley said. "He done rode off just after +supper. But he'll be here in the morning for breakfast. I hope there +ain't nothing wrong, Lafe?" + +"No-oo. We just want a talk, that's all. Don't tell him, Kelley." + +There were half a dozen persons at the table when we took our places not +long after daylight. Three were prospectors, one was a cowboy, and a +miner sat next him. Opposite me was a long, lank, youthful-appearing +man, who consumed his food with his nose very close to his plate. He had +little to say, except when he desired something. + +Now, if a man be a lusty trencherman, or if he wolf his food, either by +tearing or the process of inhalation, we never pass direct criticism. +That might hurt his feelings and the sensibilities of the other diners. +No; instead, one glances good-naturedly about the board to pick up the +eyes, and remarks in a slow, modulated tone--"Say, ol' Bill here don't +eat enough to fatten a hog, does he?" + +The sheriff watched this individual intently for a space. His scrutiny +made me uneasy, although it is true that the gentleman's table manners +were offensive. Then he leaned toward him and remarked, smilingly: "Say, +you don't eat enough to fatten a steer, do you?" + +I expected an outbreak. The long person raised his eyes and a sickly +smile overspread his face. And then I knew what manner of man we had to +deal with. Because, when a man of pluck receives a blow that hurts, he +first looks serious and perhaps thoughtful; that is followed by a +determined squaring of the jaw. At last he said, essaying a sneer: + +"I reckon you've got the world by the tail with a down-hill pull, ain't +you?" + +"Perhaps," said Johnson. "I've got you, anyhow, Slim. You're under +arrest. Finish that coffee and come on." + +"Who're you?" the other asked slowly. + +"The sheriff of Badger." + +"Well, I ain't sorry. I'll go along," was the reply. + +On the morning of the second day, another coroner's inquest sat in +Badger. Slim Terry faced it. A greenish pallor showed near his eyes and +around the corners of his mouth, but he talked composedly. + +Coroner.--"Did you shoot Bud Walton?" + +"Yes." + +"Tell us about it." + +The prisoner passed a hand over his forehead and down to his chin, as +though to clear his thoughts. + +"This feller Walton, judge, he done run me out of Badger. First, though, +he run me out of the Fashion. I ain't been in this town for six months +till the day of the shooting. Yes, I was scared of him. I ain't a +fighter, gen'l'men. I come in that day, because somebody done sent for +me." + +Coroner.--"Who sent for you?" + +Slim pondered this question. "I ain't a-going to tell that," he said. +"Well, I laid quiet at ol' Raphael's place on the aidge of town until +dark, and then I sneaked up back of the Fashion. Nobody seen me. +Somebody'd told me Bud Walton would likely do for Thomas there that +night, and I figured to get him from that back hall in the mixup. One of +us was sure to nail him." + +"Who told you this?" + +"I ain't a-going to tell. I've said that twice already, Mr. Turner, so +you needn't ask me. Well, I waited in the hall there, standing mighty +quiet. I seen Thomas at the table and a fat gen'l'man over near the +window with the sheriff here. I didn't know he was the sheriff then. By +and by a boy come in and the sheriff went out. Then all at once Bud +Walton run in at the door and pulled a gun. And then I let him have it. +I plugged him square. Couldn't miss at that distance. What'd you say, +judge? No; nobody seen me. I run out into the lot back of the Fashion +and got on my horse. I've been at the Kingdom most of the time since, +but I wasn't trying to hide out. How did you find out, Mr. Johnson?" + +The audience in the court-room listened to this recital with scant +sympathy. Their disapproval was obvious. Even the sheriff appeared a +trifle ashamed of his prisoner. + +"Did you have any other reason, Terry, for shooting this man?" asked the +coroner. + +"No, sir. He done run me off, and I was afraid he would kill me some +day, the same as he'd done to a lot of others. So I plugged him--there +in the Fashion." + +"It's a lie. He's lying, judge," cried a treble voice at the door. + +The crowd wavered and split apart, and a woman broke through and +confronted the coroner. It was Tilly, the waitress at the annex. Her +hair was disordered and hung in lank wisps about her face, but she gave +no thought to that. With her red arms bare to the elbow, and her cheeks +flabby and pale from fright, she took position squarely in front of +Turner. She tried to speak, but gasped for breath. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A WAITRESS TO THE RESCUE + + +"Order in the court!" shouted the coroner. + +"That man there--him, Slim Terry--he's lying to you, judge. Yes. He is. +He's lying. He didn't kill Bud. He's lying, judge. He is; honest." + +"Who killed him then?" said the coroner. The sheriff walked over and +stood beside the girl. + +"I did. I shot him. I--" + +"Tilly, you're crazy. Stop her, sheriff. She ain't telling the truth. +She's--" The prisoner made to shove her back. + +"Order in the court!" Turner roared. + +"Listen to me. I'm going to tell you. Yes, I am. I'm going to tell." + +"Silence, gentlemen. Let's hear what she's got to say," the sheriff +ordered. + +"I knew Bud Walton was coming to the Fashion that night to look for Jeff +Thomas." Tilly told her story gustfully, her voice shrill. "Yes, I knew +it. I told Jeff so. Why shouldn't I? Bud told me. He'd been drinking the +night before. That man sitting there was my fellow. He came to see me +that afternoon, and I had to hide him in ol' Raphael's house like any +dog. All because of Bud Walton. Yes." + +"Go on. Quiet, please." + +"Slim, he wanted to shoot Bud himself. So would you, judge, if you knew. +But I said no. Do you know why he wanted to shoot? I'll tell you. Bud +Walton was bad. Yes. He was. He was a bad man. He asked me to marry him, +and when I laughed, he said he'd take me anyhow. Yes. That is what he +said. He was bad. And I got afraid. He done run Slim out of town last +year and there was nobody--oh, don't let 'em all stare at me that way, +judge. I'm telling the truth. Before God, I am." + +"Go on," said Turner huskily. + +"I was in the hall with Slim. I let him in at the door. Yes, I did. It +was locked. We had a rifle and we stood there. I had often shot at +prairie-dogs with the rifle when me and Slim would go riding together. +Slim, he couldn't never hit a barn door. No wonder he was scared of Bud. +It's true--true as gospel, judge. He couldn't have killed him. No. I +made him put both hands against the wall and then I rested the gun on +his shoulder. Yes. I did. Bud Walton was bad. He was a bad man. When I +saw him, I pulled quick. And then I shut my eyes. And then--I don't +rightly remember after that. That's the truth. It's all true, every +word. Yes. It is. Slim, he went away--and now--oh, oh, oh." + +She rocked on her feet, her hands over her eyes. + +"Order in the court! Order in the court!" the coroner bawled, though you +could have heard a man gulp. + +The sheriff took Tilly by the arm and led her away. He permitted Slim to +come with them. + +"Gen'l'men," said Turner, clearing his throat as he rose from his chair, +"this court stands adjourned. Bud, he just died. That's good enough for +him." + +The next morning the sheriff called on Tilly at the Fashion and told her +to don her best bib and tucker with all speed. + +"I'd a heap rather go to this here Slim party's funeral, Tilly," he +said, "but I suppose you've got to have him. So get a move on. I reckon +Badger can stake you to a wedding." + +Naught cared Tilly for this genial slight on her lover. She had +him--that was sufficient for her. A woman does not need to respect a man +in order to love him devotedly. Moist of face, but radiant, she +presented herself before Lafe within an hour. + +And to what a wedding did Badger stake the waitress! The entire town +seemed to regard it as a public event in which every citizen had a +personal interest and a duty to perform; and they did it nobly. Tilly +was deluged with gifts, ranging from a Book of Common Prayer to a heifer +calf, which the donor assured her would one day develop into a fine +milch cow and feed all the little Terrys. + +Lafe took upon himself the conduct of the proceedings. And in the course +of them he became so wrought up that he made a speech, a faculty for +which had hitherto been unsuspected in the sheriff. He started off by +saying it would not be much of a speech, and he was correct. Yet such +was his fervor that Tilly cried for the fifth time that day, and her +husband gulped until his Adam's apple threatened to jump out of his +throat, as he gripped Johnson's hand. + +A strict adherence to facts compels the admission that there was a very +considerable consumption of liquor on this day. You see, nothing is ever +consummated in Badger, from a sale of steers or a horse trade, to a +wedding in the season, without a certain indulgence of this nature. + +For, in the course of human events and in pursuit of that liberty and +happiness which constitute the inalienable right of every citizen, a man +is apt, from time to time, to get drunk. Nobody in Badger ever held it +against him--far from it. Let that then be the excuse for sundry +estimable gentlemen who felt badly the morning after Tilly's marriage. +Let that explain the presence of the justice of the peace and the +sheriff of Badger and Dr. Armstrong, when they foregathered in the +Fashion before breakfast, to compare symptoms and to contrive means by +which they might last through another sun. Indeed, convivial relaxation +was regarded in Badger as incidental to male existence, however rarely +these "benders," as they were termed in local parlance, might be +tempered by discretion. + +Yet there have always been certain unwritten rules governing bouts with +Care, and if a man broke them in Badger, he became either a social +outcast or an inmate of the calaboose, which was worse. The calaboose +was once a livery stable and has never entirely got over it. + +This qualifying statement is by way of leading up to happenings that +wrought a regeneration in Lafe Johnson and changed the whole course of +his life. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE SHERIFF SETTLES A CONJUGAL DISPUTE + + +About a year after the killing of Bud Walton, the sheriff was engaged +one day in a game of pitch in the Fashion. Order in Badger had been +excellent of late. This had not been accomplished by moral suasion, +although that had been a factor, but by stern and often fearless +performance of duty in quelling disorders. Johnson's reputation had +grown apace. He always knew the precise moment to strike, which +effectually nipped many threatening feuds. + +On this day, Sellers Hardin stopped his stage in front of the Fashion +and inquired for the sheriff. + +"Say, Lafe," he said, "there's a guy over to the Cowboys' Rest bawling +his wife out powerful strong. I'd sure have smeared the road with that +gen'l'man, only it weren't my business. Hey? Yes, I left 'em over there. +They come off that El Paso train, the two of 'em." + +"I'll step across," said the sheriff. + +He threw down his cards and walked over to the rival saloon. The +landlord, who had long forgiven the blow on the head and was now a +staunch Johnson man, nodded at him and paused in his work of polishing +glasses to point to the door of a rear room with the towel. Inside, a +loud voice was raised in maudlin harangue. + +"You come along now. I'll show you. You bet we'll stay here. What? I'll +learn you who's boss right now. Didn't I send you your fare? Huh? And +you done come ahead on the jump. But you're too good for me now all of a +sudden, ain't you? I'll--" + +Lafe found a man denouncing a young woman. She sat near the window, and +showed no fear as she watched him storm up and down the floor, pouring +out reproaches and abuse. She was pale, but perfectly collected, and she +rested her chin in her palm, regarding her companion with a species of +impersonal speculation. He was a florid, youthful person of very baggy +clothes and with his hair parted in the middle. The shoulders of his +coat projected beyond his real shoulders to an astonishing width, and he +wore peg-top trousers; also, his shoes had beautiful sloping heels and +flowing bows. An intense, nervous irritability kept his arms jerking +about. She listened placidly. + +"If you don't quit your fooling and come along with me--" he was saying, +when she cautioned: "There's somebody behind you." He wheeled and beheld +the sheriff. + +"What's the trouble here?" Lafe asked. + +"None of your business. That's what. When we want any help in a fam'ly +dispute, we'll send for you." + +The sheriff, by way of answer, selected a chair and placed his hat +carefully on the floor. + +"You're drunk," he said, with the utmost good-nature. "Let's be +friendly, now, and get this thing settled." + +Beyond a faint curiosity, the girl exhibited no interest in his arrival, +but her companion planted himself in front of Johnson, with his feet +wide apart, and made a strong effort to look threatening. + +"Well, I'll be doggoned," he said. "Who're you, anyway? What do you +think you're doing, butting into my private affairs this way? Ain't a +man boss of his own wife? Ain't I got any rights? You get out now, +before I throw you out." + +"This here party," Lafe said to her in a confidential aside, "is fixing +to throw me into the road. He sure will, too. You can see that sticking +out all over him. What do you want that I should do?" + +"You don't look very scared." + +"No, ma'am. I always try to hide my feelings. Do you reckon you can +handle him yourself, or will I take him along?" + +"Say, you! You pay attention to--" + +"Where'll you take him?" she asked. + +"Look a-here, you two--" + +"We've got a nice, peaceful lockup, where the rats is friendly," +answered the sheriff. "He won't be lonely. There's a Mexican there +right now, drunker'n he is." + +She shrugged her shoulders and looked out of the window. "Suit +yourself," she said. + +"Say," cried the gentleman of the peg-tops, "ain't I got anything to say +in this? You're getting too gay, you two. Do you hear? Ain't a man got +any rights in this country? I can run my wife alone, can't I?" + +"Does this here party belong to you, ma'am? Are you his wife?" + +"No." + +"What? You ain't? You sit there and say you ain't my wife? Why--" + +"I married him, but I'm not his wife." + +"Sure," said the sheriff, "I see. I don't blame you, ma'am." He put on +his hat. The other was watching him doubtfully. + +"You come along with me," said Lafe. + +"Come along, my foot. What do you think you are, anyway?" + +"That's all right. I'm sheriff here. And if I wasn't, I'd take you +along. It's one of the rules of this here town that a man can't talk to +his wife like you done. Understand? Get a-going, now. I'm liable to get +peevish directly." + +Still he hesitated. Lafe was growing angry. His rage always seemed +sudden, but this was by design. In reality it was the release of +long-pent and controlled passion. + +Said the sheriff: "Hurry up, Harris." + +"My name ain't Harris. It's Jackson." + +"Jackson or Harris, it's all the same to me. You were Harris when me and +Buf'lo Jim done run you out of Cananea. I reckon you ain't forgot that, +have you?" + +A quick glimmer of recognition showed that Mr. Harris had not. He +sobered with amazing celerity. + +"Where're we going?" he asked. + +"You get moving first," said the sheriff, "and then we'll figure on +that." + +"I won't go," was the emphatic rejoinder. "No, sir; not me. Tell him to +leave us alone, Hetty. I'm within my rights. And you're framing up +something. I can tell." + +"Say, Harris, you're fixing to get hurt awful bad." The sheriff's air +was regretful. He stepped to the door and held it open, nodding at +Jackson. That young man gave him a swift look and banged his hat down +over his curling bang. Without even a word to the girl, who was +regarding the tableau much as a spectator from a seat in the stalls, he +walked out. The sheriff followed. Within a minute he stuck his head +inside again to say: "I'll be back right away." She made no response. + +The two walked out to the residence of Dutch Annie, Johnson a yard in +advance. + +Dutch Annie said: "Don't you bring that rat in here, Mr. Johnson." + +She was a forceful woman, of startling precision of speech. Annie would +not open the door, but surveyed the abject Harris through a crack about +two inches wide. The sheriff kept the toe of his boot inside, to prevent +Dutch Annie slamming it against them. + +"I'm not here to make trouble for you, Annie," he hastened to say, "but +just take a look at this feller. Ain't you seen him before?" + +"Huh! I reckon so. He done married Sarah last year and run off and left +her on my hands. Hush--best to get away quiet. If she hears he's here, +there'll be no holding of Sarah." + +"That's all," said Lafe, and the door banged in their faces. + +"Now," he said to Harris, "you hit for foreign shores. I start shooting +at forty. Quick." + +This does not pretend to be an exact reproduction of the sheriff's +speech, because he had an honest man's loathing and contempt for this +kind of male. But it is the gist of his words. The procurer made the +first hundred yards in fifteen seconds flat, so the sheriff speeded his +count, lest he get out of range. The satisfaction was accorded him of +dusting Jackson's heels as he ran, and Lafe repaired to the Cowboys' +Rest in a better frame of mind. + +"She ain't here," the landlord told him. "She's done gone." + +The sheriff found her at the Fashion. "You reckon you're a married +woman, I take it, ma'am?'" he inquired cheerily. + +"I married him in El Paso. Yes, I had to. He'd paid my fare. Yes, I do." + +"Well, you ain't," said Lafe. "He's got one wife already that I know of, +that fine gen'l'man, and probably bunches more, besides." + +She thought this over for a minute. There was no surprise; neither was +there any of the joy he had anticipated; and no sign of reaction or +tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +AND HETTY COMES TO BADGER TO LIVE + + +"Where is she?" she asked. + +"Who? This wife? Oh, over beyond. Not so very far from here. You won't +never see her," was the careless reply. + +Again she appeared to ponder what he said. A slight shiver was quickly +repressed. At last: "So that's what he is? You reckon--" + +"Where's your outfit, ma'am?" the sheriff interrupted. + +"My trunk? It's here. I've taken a room." + +They were in the parlor of the Fashion, one flight above the street. It +was sumptuously furnished, the proprietor taking pride in his +establishment--a red plush sofa, a table, three chairs, and a +cottage-organ. On the wall was a chromo lithograph of a girl clinging to +a wave-swept pillar of stone. This was entitled "Rock of Ages." + +Thereupon she told him her story. Of course Lafe did not believe half of +what she said, although he gave ear gravely to her direct manner of +replying to his questions. The girl's self-possession and cool disregard +of the extremity to which she was reduced, suggested only one +explanation to his mind--ripe experience. He had never encountered these +traits among ladies of domestic virtues. + +Her name was Hetty Ferrier, and Miss Ferrier had exactly eleven dollars +and seventy cents. She had lived in Eau Claire, but went to Chicago to +make a fortune and to marry a rich, handsome youth, as girls starting +out in the world invariably do. There she got a job in a department +store, where they paid her four dollars and a half a week to keep soul +and body together, though subsequently little consideration was shown +for her soul. When she parried the assistant manager's attentions she +was removed from the lace counter to the hardware department, but she +did not care. Then she fell ill; for breakfast foods, wetted with watery +milk and eaten in a room opening on hot, slate roofs, are not a +sustaining diet when one stands all day on one's feet. So she was sent +back home from the hospital. And her parents were miserably poor. Her +father had borrowed the money to bring her home. She began reading +advertisements again, and finally answered one of the matrimonial +variety. + +That was all. This man Jackson replied to her, and his letters were very +nice--those of a perfect gentleman, Miss Ferrier assured the sheriff. +Then he sent the money, and she journeyed to El Paso. He was not what +she had expected, but he treated her decently when he met her at the +train. Furthermore, he could be very amusing and "splendid company," she +said; so she went through a ceremony with him. After that he went away +to get tickets, and when he came back, he was drunk. She was frightened +and sat up all night in a day coach, and he went to sleep in a Pullman, +waking up sometimes to order the porter to tell her to go to sleep at +once. When they got out, he said they would take the stage to Badger, +where he had some business to transact, and then go on to Nogales. + +The sheriff pressed for fuller information. Had she no friends while +working in the city? Yes, she knew some of the girls, but they were +always scheming for a good time, and she never had any money. The nicest +ones lived at home, but not all of them. Several young men had been kind +to her and had taken her to theaters. But they usually tried to get +fresh, said Miss Ferrier. Some appeared to have heaps of money, but +others worked for it as she did, only they spent it with princely +recklessness on pay night. + +There was one--she came to a full stop. Yes, she would tell him about +that one, too. He was very poor. Indeed, he dressed so shabbily that the +girls tittered when he called to meet her at the employes' entrance. No; +he treated her all right and was always respectful. She liked him +because he was very good, and different. He was a student and was +working his way through college by waiting in a dining-hall. They had +hoped to marry some day. Then she got sick and went home. It would have +taken years, anyway. She seemed never to have regarded the prospect +with much hope. + +"Uh-huh!" said the sheriff, when she had finished. "And what do you aim +to do now?" + +"I don't know. What can I do? Get a job as waitress, I guess." + +She appeared undistressed by the prospect, but it was the apathy of +countless failures and physical exhaustion. + +"No," he said with decision. "You're a heap too pretty for that." + +"You think so?" she asked indifferently. + +"You bet I do." It was Lafe Johnson who was talking now, and not the +sheriff of Badger. They were alone in the parlor. He watched her for a +moment. Her profile was turned to him and her attitude was one of tired +acquiescence with the stress of her situation. He hitched his chair +forward close to hers. + +"Say," he said, lowering his voice, "you forget this here Harris and all +that, and throw in with me. I'll treat you good." + +"How--throw in with you?" + +"Why, you know. I'll take you over to a li'l' place I've got beyond the +Willows. It's right pretty. We'll--" + +"I wonder," said Miss Ferrier, without a trace of resentment, "I wonder +if there's more than one man on earth who isn't a brute?" + +"I don't take you, ma'am." + +"What difference is there between you and the others? How're you better +than this fellow you ran off--this Jackson?" she demanded, with her +first display of animation. "You've got nothing on him." + +"Say, you quit that. Quit that right now. I don't make my living--" + +"And neither do I, Mr. Johnson. So put that in your pipe and smoke it." + +She jumped to her feet and went out before he could prevent her. Johnson +heard the bolt of her room jerked into place, and then he went +downstairs, whistling a casual air. The barkeeper brought a tried +judgment to bear on these symptoms and furtively closed one eye at the +proprietor. + +"Humph," said Lafe, when he was outside and walking toward the cattle +company's corral. "She can give any woman I ever done met up with, cards +and spades at a bluff." + +Yet he was seized of qualms. It was the first time in his tenure of +office that the man had triumphed over the official in any respect +whatsoever. He had done his work with a single eye to duty, and without +prejudice; and he had done it well. Nor was he given to pursuit of this +nature. The girl made a tremendous physical appeal to him, and of course +all that about the assistant manager and those other fellows was pure +fiction. Lafe knew women of her stamp better than that. + +He was low in spirits all afternoon, and about sunset invaded the bar of +the Cowboys' Rest. + +"I'm going to get pickled," he announced, "not real drunk, you +understand. Nothing vulgar, but just nice and quiet. Here's my gun. I +reckon Badger'll run itself for a day or two." + +"It's sure a-coming to you, Lafe," said the landlord. "You've been sober +for a right smart spell." + +In the morning he felt very rocky, for the refreshment they provide in +Badger would stagger the oldest man in the world; and he could hear +bands playing in unlooked-for places. So he gave over in disgust all +thought of further carnival and went to the Fashion for breakfast, +knowing of old that a hearty meal would set him right. + +Miss Ferrier waited on him. So she had secured the job! The barkeeper +told Lafe that she got it so quick it made his hair curl, and she was +sure a waitress. + +"She's got the rollers under the ol' man," he said. "He'll eat out of +her hand. Say, business ought to pick up. Don't you reckon?" + +Assuredly it did. All the unattached men of Badger developed a taste for +the corncakes served at the Fashion. One of the Anvil boys happened to +ride into town for a new pair of boots, and took dinner there. What he +narrated on his return kept an entire outfit sleepless far into the +night, planning methods of getting a day off, and it is on record that +twenty-seven extra meals were served in as many days to gentlemen who +smelled healthily of horse and walked to a merry jingle of spurs. Hetty +treated all alike and was a paragon of waitresses. All aspired to be +admirers. The majority were shy and ill at ease, given to staring at the +menu with glassy, uncomprehending eyes; but there did not lack doughty +ones. They lost their courage completely, however, when it came to +finishing what they began, in face of her calmly amused smile. + +Yet she did not come off scatheless. They were lavish in their +invitations, and horses were thrust at her as gifts, like so many boxes +of chocolates. She was anxious to learn to bestride a horse, and when +she had acquired the knack, Hetty readily accepted several proposals for +rides up the valley. Then she abruptly discontinued them; for, fired by +what they had heard, her escorts grew bold. Two she repulsed +successfully, and followed that up with lashings of a quirt, but the +third achieved her waist and lips. He got small satisfaction for his +trouble. Her chilling surrender to his kiss when she felt herself +helpless, took all the eagerness of the conqueror out of him. The cowboy +was miserably penitent on the way home and later announced that he would +bet everything he had, inclusive of socks, that Miss Ferrier was the +finest girl in town and could lay it over any lady of his acquaintance. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE SHERIFF ENSNARED + + +Evidently the feminine portion of the population did not agree with him. +One was openly hostile--a Mrs. Garland. But she may not have been +unprejudiced, for her maiden name had been Grace Hawes. For some +reason--not unconnected with her manner of arrival in Badger--the +married women fought shy of Hetty and kept their daughters rigidly +aloof. She perceived this quickly enough--long before the men remarked +it--and accepted it as she did everything else, with a species of +passive disdain. + +"What for do you let these here fellers get off them bum jokes?" said +Lafe suddenly, one day at dinner. He was in high dudgeon. The sheriff +was a regular boarder at the Fashion now, but seldom did he offer a word +to the waitress, or she one to him. + +"If it amuses them, let 'em do it. It don't hurt me," she said, +unruffled. + +"Yes it does, too, hurt you. Say, you'd ought to wear a high collar." + +"You mind your own business," Hetty cried hotly and flushed to the tips +of her ears. + +The white, white column of her neck was always bare, for she knew its +beauty full as well as did anybody else and wore her dress cut low +accordingly; and Mr. Johnson had noted with consuming rage that it held +the rapt gaze of the diners. Indeed, she was a strapping, fine woman. +Black hair, heavy black eye-brows, blue eyes and a dazzling skin--they +made an unusual combination. Hetty carried herself fearlessly erect. Her +figure was full but supple, and she walked as if her body held +inexhaustible reserves of strength. + +He said no more then, but later broke out with the stunning declaration +that waiting on table was no fit job for a lady--not with a lot of lazy +loafers round, especially. His proposition was that she get out of the +Fashion and go to live with the Widow Brown, who was a nice, respectable +woman, and would be company for her. And the sheriff would see that she +got a job of some sort. Or perhaps she would like to go on a visit to +Mrs. Floyd, whose husband owned the Lazy L range. He would secure her an +invitation. + +"You're awful kind, aren't you?" she said. "You make me think of Bessie +and her fellow, you do." + +Lafe intimated that these individuals were unknown to him, but he fain +would hear more. + +"Why, this fellow of Bessie's--Bess worked next to me at the store--he +wanted to reform her, he said--Bess was really too fly." + +"Well? Why shouldn't he?" + +"Huh! Reform her!" said Miss Ferrier. "He only wanted to keep everybody +else away." + +"She's tough." Lafe assured himself of this again and again as he went +home. "She's mighty tough; yes, sir. Else she couldn't talk that away. +And them friends of hers. A city's a rotten place." + +Of course, he, too, asked her to go riding. She thanked him, but +refused. + +"I'll treat you proper," he said. + +"You can bank on it you will. But I won't go. No, thanks." + +A silver heart he purchased for her, together with an enormously long +chain, was returned without a syllable of explanation, although the gift +was dispatched anonymously. The sheriff was much chagrined. Hetty did +her task above criticism when he was at table, but all efforts to +establish a friendlier footing met with rebuffs. + +"I'll be doggoned if you ain't nicer to these here other fellers than +you are to me," said Lafe, after a fortnight of this. + +"Why shouldn't I be?" + +"Why shouldn't--? I swan I don't know." + +The admission was wrung from him slowly, and he appeared to be deep in +thought during the remainder of the meal. His manner thenceforward took +on a grave, distant politeness that Hetty found peculiarly galling. +Meanwhile, the world wagged on about as usual. + +One day he listened with a very bad grace to certain compliments paid by +a puncher to Hetty. He considered them to be in execrable taste, +probably because her badinage in reply lacked its usual sting. He +frowned sullenly, and Mr. Johnson's reputation was such that this surly +demeanor greatly disconcerted her admirer, much to Hetty's annoyance. +The sheriff lingered after the others had risen from the table. + +"I'll find out right now," he said determinedly. + +Hetty happened to lean over his shoulder to remove some dishes. With a +dexterous twist, he pinioned her arms and kissed her full on the mouth. +She was quite passive under it, gazing steadily into his eyes when he +paused. + +"Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself," was all she said. + +"I ain't complaining," he answered thickly. Yet he released her. + +A bad week followed for Lafe. He was irascible, quick to snap up a word, +which was foreign to him. So insulting was his behavior that the +landlord of the Fashion feared he would have to shoot Lafe some day when +he caught him without a gun. + +The sheriff occupied a two-roomed frame shack on the edge of town. It +was a cheerless hole of a place. His barn, where he kept his three +horses, was inviting by comparison. Often of nights he paced the bare +floor of the bedroom, and more than once the faint dawn was whitening +the windows, and the cocks of all Badger were lustily heralding the +sun, before he threw himself down to sleep. One evening he deposited his +lantern on a chair and sat down in another beside it, and in that +half-light tried to reason out the whole problem. About midnight he +threw away his cigarette and prepared for bed. + +"Well," he said, ruffling the sheet with his toes, "I give in. She may +be worse'n ol' Dutch Annie, but I've got to have her. That's all there +is to that." + +He sought Hetty next evening after her work was done at the Fashion. She +was standing in the rear doorway of the annex. + +"I want you to marry me," he began. + +"You do, do you? I suppose you think you're doing something mighty fine +to ask me, don't you?" A slight color rose in her cheeks. + +"Never mind what I think. I can't do without you. It must be love, I +reckon, though it ain't what I thought that was. But I want you to marry +me, anyhow. Will you?" + +"No, I won't," she said. + +"Yes, you will, too." + +"I wouldn't marry you, Lafe Johnson, if you were the last man on top of +earth." She turned indoors. + +The sheriff went home, very quiet indeed. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +HOW HE WON A WIFE + + +Three days passed, and they were much the same as before. Then, on a +sunshiny morning, the sheriff strolled back from the bar of the Fashion +to glance into the dining-room, minded to seek another interview. Hetty +was sitting by a window. Her face was red and streaked with tears. She +was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. He tiptoed out of the place. + +At dinner Lafe was very brusque and stated his wants with sharpness. +After the diners had departed: "It's a wonder"--pausing to strike a +match--"it's a wonder that there fine young feller of yours don't come +after you. Why don't you write to him?" + +"What fine fellow of mine?" + +"That stoodent feller. If he thought such a heap about you, he ought for +to show it. Ain't you written to him?" + +"Shut up," said Hetty. + +"No, but honest--" + +"Do you think I could write to him after going away without a word +to--to marry a man I'd never set eyes on? You make me sick." + +"I don't think much of him, anyhow," he said stubbornly. + +"I guess he'll be able to live that down," said Hetty. + +"Where does this here party live? A stoodent, you said he was?" + +"Sure"--using her handkerchief again. "He's studying at a dental school +in Chicago. Here's his address." + +The sheriff did not question her further, but eyed the card she +produced, for a long time. That afternoon he spent three sweating hours +over some sheets of blue, ruled paper, with very meager results. Here +they are: + + _Mr. Abner Fish, Chicago, Ill._ + + DEAR SIR: I write to say there's a young lady here as seems to + be in need of friends from home leastways she's powerful lonely + now this here town ain't never had its teeth tended to right + chief reason they never wash them I guess. Ha ha. + + Say if you ain't laid out any plans better come ahead and start + right in here to fix them good. You can come all the way by + train except sixty miles by stage the going is good unless + Sellers happens to get drunk and runs his mules over the rocks + and I'll be pleased to meet you at the terminus, being as I am + sheriff I enclose eighty dollars for expenses which is sort of + coming to you from the town and you can pay it back when you + make it. Well I'll cut this out now it is very hot here. + + Yours respectfully, + + LAFE JOHNSON. + + P. S. The lady's name it is Miss Hetty Ferrier. + +The letter mailed, Johnson took horse and crossed the Border into +Sonora. He did not return for ten days and then went straight to his +house. The Fashion saw him not. He ate at the Cowboys' Rest, but Hetty +knew of his coming an hour after he rode down the street. + +When three meals had been served and eaten without Lafe appearing, she +put on her hat and went boldly to his house. It was afternoon, and +Badger lay in a still, dead torpor under a cruel sky. + +"Well?" said Lafe, standing abashed on the threshold. + +"Abner Fish is coming," she announced, and that was all she could say. + +"Well, I swan. That's a right good thing. He can fix teeth pretty good, +can't he?" + +"Yes--no--that is--he says you sent for him. Oh, Lafe." + +This was a vastly different woman from the one he had known. Hetty would +not look at him, but kept her gaze timidly on a knot in the door and +twiddled a ribbon flaring garishly from her waist. + +"Pshaw!" said the sheriff, "it's most time Badger done woke up. The +doggone rascals, they never take no care of their teeth. I've been +reading some about them things, Miss Ferrier, and it's most scandalous +how sick people'll get if they don't watch out for their teeth. This +book says--" + +"Oh, Lafe." + +"Do you mean to say you don't want him to come?" he asked. His hand, +resting against the doorjamb, began to quiver and jerk. + +"No-oo." + +"God!" + +Hetty was beginning to weep, which was a ridiculous thing to do under +the circumstances. The proceedings subsequent to this wholly reverent +ejaculation of Lafe's were too utterly idiotic for sober recital. When +she had calmed, they stood behind the door, safely out of sight, and the +bosom and shoulder of the sheriff's shirt were moist. + +"No, I can't," Miss Ferrier was saying, in the weakest voice imaginable. +"Everybody knows what a fool I was to come out here to Jackson, and +they'll laugh at you. I couldn't bear that, Lafe." + +"Now, that'd be horrible, wouldn't it?" he said. Then, very quietly: "I +reckon I can take care of my wife, Hetty." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE GUNFIGHTER RETURNS AND DELAYS WEDDING + + +They were to be married in a fortnight. Hetty's preparations were of the +simplest sort. + +"I'll fix my hair the way you like it," she said, laughing. "That's +about all I can do." + +On his part, Lafe wrote to the Floyds and obtained their promise to +come. Mrs. Floyd did not seem to resent this usurpation of the sheriff's +affection, which establishes her rarity beyond question. Then he ordered +some furniture. It was of an inexpensive kind, because he had saved +nothing and had only a month's pay owing to him. The sheriff would not +run into debt, having had a surfeit of its effects when a cowboy. + +Of course he went to call on Hetty every night at the Widow Brown's. +Occasionally he found opportunity to drop around during the day, too. +Hetty had resigned as waitress, and her admirers faded away, for it is +foolish to meddle with another man's girl, when that other is such an +one as Lafe Johnson. And ten or eleven days sped by. + +Then, about eight o'clock on an evening when the sheriff was talking to +Hetty on the Widow Brown's porch, Steve Moffatt ambled into town. He +dismounted quietly in front of the Fashion, walked across to the express +office and stuck a six-shooter under the agent's nose. That official +reasoned swiftly and decided to let him take what he could find. He was +not without pluck, but he was also a very sensible man. There was only +ninety dollars in the safe, and having soundly berated the agent on this +account, Moffatt put it in his pocket and rode out of Badger. He left +the agent bound to a chair and securely gagged. + +"Tell Lafe Johnson good-by for me," Moffatt said at departure. "Give him +and his girl my regards." + +"Thanks," said Lafe politely, when he received them. + +He saddled his horse and put a rifle in the holster. His .45 was always +at his hip, concealed in a leather-lined pocket. + +"I reckon we'll have to put the wedding off a few days, Hetty," he said, +as he bade her good-by. "I've got to leave on the jump. There's no +saying when I'll get back, either." + +It was nearly midnight and very dark. Hetty toyed with his horse's mane. +She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. + +"All right," she said. "Take care of yourself, Lafe." + +The sheriff kissed her and set out. He entered Mexico and struck +southwest. No United States officer had a right to invade Mexican +territory for a criminal, nor to arrest him on Mexican soil, but Johnson +was determined to catch his man first and argue this legal phase of it +afterwards, with Steve safe in the calaboose at Badger. So he opened a +line gate unobserved and galloped through the soft night in pursuit of +Moffatt. + +The days sped by and Hetty received a wire from Lafe, who was now in +Cananea. + +"No luck," it ran. "He's doubled back on me. Hope to pick up trail +here." + +But what transpired in Cananea deserves a place to itself. Even now +Hetty does not like to hear any reference to the subject, and Lafe will +eye her uneasily if it be mentioned. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +JOHNSON MEETS A FRIEND OF HETTY'S + + +Should a man clutch at an imaginary wire that eludes him up the wall +beside his bed, and take to raving and prayer, it raises a doubt as to +recent conduct and habits. Hughie MacFarlane, rancher, age thirty-seven +years, did all this and many other disagreeable things, and then died. + +A considerable number of his acquaintances wagged their heads and +remarked that the world would survive the loss--it was noticeable that +those who had partaken most freely of Hughie's bounty were foremost in +this line of epitaph. Others declaimed the platitude of the +mealy-mouthed, that MacFarlane had been a big-hearted fellow, his own +worst enemy. Within a week after the funeral, nobody in Cananea thought +much about him one way or the other, and certain lapses in his notions +of enjoyment were forgotten, for where there is no jury of public +opinion, men grow tolerant of human frailty, and then lax. That is our +way on the Border. + +So everybody promptly forgot Hughie--all except a flame-headed girl at +the Hotel Carmen, who sniffed a great deal when she leaned over your +shoulder to put the steak and vegetables on the table, and whose voice +was wet when she inquired whether you preferred your eggs straight up or +over. She was not one to tempt a man to boldness, and none had ever +found her desirable; but once, on his way from the bar to the +dining-room, Hughie had given her a rough, laughing embrace. That was +all, on my honor; but Molly remembered and worshiped the unregenerate +creature, according to her nature. Finally she became such a nuisance, +with her red eyes and general dampness of face, that the proprietor +discharged Molly. + +"Hughie was a fine feller when he first came here," Lafe Johnson +remarked, in reference to this episode, "but he got to talking Mexican +too good." + +With which dark assertion he reared his feet to the rail of the Hotel +Carmen veranda and lazily watched the hacks careen past down the hill. +Three weeks had elapsed since he started on the bandit's trail and he +was apparently farther behind him than on the night Moffatt fled. After +two days of close pursuit, during which Moffatt had twice doubled back, +the sheriff had been able to obtain nothing better than rumors. These he +followed up obstinately, and at last they led him to Cananea, where he +rested, awaiting developments. + +It was Sunday, and the cabs were doing a rushing business. Gentlemen of +white skin, gentlemen of olive and brown, crowded into them and departed +with an air of elation. Presently two cabs moved by at a parade pace. +Both were loaded to the axles with bull-fighters in tawdry velvet +trappings. The matador, a person who perspired like a pat of butter on a +warm day, doffed his hat unceasingly to admiring friends on the +sidewalk. It was very hot and the time was noon. + +"I hope that fat one gets horned," said Johnson, comfortably, to his +neighbor. "What? You going to the fight? I can't stand to see them ol' +hosses ripped. Say, it beats me how white women can go there and sit +through it. They chew gum all over the grand stand, too, them women do. +If my girl--if I had a woman--" + +Incoming guests cut Mr. Johnson off. They arrived off the 10.10 +train--two drummers, and a lank individual, very tanned, and stiff in +his clothes, who proved to be a mining engineer about to start on a +prospecting trip, and a woman. She was plump and had brown hair, and her +dress was of deepest mourning. That much Lafe noted as she stepped from +the cab, and he took his feet down and removed the cigar from his mouth. +She rustled up the steps and hurried inside without bestowing more than +a flurried glance on the loungers. + +Johnson was still resting there an hour later, meditating, when the +landlord came out and held the screen open with a fine show of courtesy. + +"Say, Lafe, I want you to shake hands with Mrs. MacFarlane," said the +Hotel Carmen man. "This here lady's Hughie's wife. She wants to go out +to the ranch. Mr. Johnson's sheriff of Badger, ma'am. It's like you've +heard of him." + +"I'll be right glad to look after you, ma'am," Johnson said soberly, +shoving his chair forward. + +Mrs. MacFarlane smiled in a manner curiously shy for a widow of thirty, +and murmured something to the effect that she knew Mr. Johnson had been +a friend of her Hugh's. This was not strictly true, but Lafe would not +have denied it to her for a herd of graded stuff. He leaned against the +railing and waited patiently to learn her wishes. She had come to claim +Hughie's estate and to make certain that his--grave--here she started to +cry soundlessly into a handkerchief--received proper care. All this was +very painful and Johnson stirred restlessly. Whenever Mrs. MacFarlane +made reference to her late husband, it was always as her "boy," and the +tone was one of such restrained adoration that Lafe experienced a +sinking feeling beneath his vest. Listening to her--she was decently +reserved and her talk escaped in snatches--he gathered that Hughie had +been a great and noble man, which was an estimate of Hughie that never +would have occurred to any of his acquaintances. + +"The feller must have had a heap of good in him somewhere, Buf'lo," he +told Shortredge that night. Jim was now engaged in the slaughtering +business in Cananea. "A man can't make a woman like her care that a-way +else." + +"I don't know about that, Lafe. I don't know about that. I ain't so +shore," said his friend. "It's most amazing how they kin forget +everything when he's gone. They only remember li'l' things he done for +'em; things what a feller might do for a yallow dawg." + +The trip across the mountains was a full day's drive, and Johnson was to +call for Mrs. MacFarlane at dawn with a buckboard and a mule team. She +kept him waiting forty minutes, but he passed the time patiently, +recalling that a certain female in Badger was wont to do the same thing. +This recollection brought a grin to his countenance, and may have been +responsible for the solicitous manner with which he seated Mrs. +MacFarlane in the vehicle. They set out at the sober gait suited to a +wearing drive. The landlord, after watching them for a while, remarked +thoughtfully to the barkeeper that he hoped they would find everything +all right. + +"Hughie ought for to have told us he was married," he said slowly. "Yes. +He ought. I sure hope they'll find everything all right. She's an +almighty fine woman." + +The almighty fine woman settled back against the stiff leather seat and +looked at the bleak wastes they were threading. Johnson eased his mules +down the slopes, taking rare heed of the going. Ordinarily she would +have been in terror of the perils of this climb-and-drop road, but the +driver appeared to entertain no doubts and merely clucked at the +hybrids or abused them in emotionless harangues. It must have begotten +confidence, for she gave no more than the tiniest squeak when they shot +abruptly from a shelf of rock and sped downward at a gallop, the +buckboard leaping off rocks and ruts and banging at the mules' legs. +There was a sharp curve at the bottom of the descent, and for a wild +moment Mrs. MacFarlane wondered if it were possible he perceived this. + +"The brake's done bust," said Lafe, as though the matter were scarcely +worth mention. + +They took the curve on two wheels, sending sand and pebbles in all +directions, and he pulled the team to a halt. Then he got out, handing +the reins to her, for which she beamed on him. Johnson repaired the +brakes with a bit of wood and some rope, and they went forward again. + +"I done told ol' Biggerstaff that this brake was no good," he said. + +"I'd mention it to him again," Mrs. MacFarlane suggested mildly. + +He was very grateful, too, because she forbore to grab at the reins more +than once in dangerous spots. The sparkling air and the stern beauty of +the mountain country they entered seemed to soothe her. Soon she was +chatting vivaciously, but when the sun climbed to his strength, her lids +drooped. The talk became broken and lazily intimate. Suddenly Mrs. +MacFarlane sat up with a gasp. + +"Why, I've just remembered. How on earth did I ever forget it? Hetty +Ferrier!" + +The widow pronounced Hetty's name as a magician would a talisman. Lafe +went very red in the face and asked in a constrained voice whether she +knew that lady. + +"Know her? I guess I do. Why, Hetty and my young sister were playmates. +She used to live where I come from. We heard from her and she told us--" + +Mrs. MacFarlane did not state what Hetty had told them, but settled +herself to study Lafe, with the privileged frankness conferred by her +information. He bore the scrutiny well, giving all his attention to the +mules, but he was thankful for the bumps that distracted the widow and +made her clutch his elbow to avoid being thrown out. + +"Isn't it funny I shouldn't have thought about you and her before? It's +a small world, isn't it? Of course she told me you were sheriff of +Badger. You're a very lucky man, Mr. Johnson," she said. + +Lafe could find no words for the moment. At last: "You see, ma'am, her +and me are fixing to get married." + +"Huh!" said the widow. "Did you think I didn't know that? How is Hetty?" + +"She's fine, thanks." + +"I don't need to ask if she's happy?" + +"Happy as the dealer in a big jackpot," said the sheriff, much pleased. +The widow appeared to comprehend. + +They drew near the ranch in late afternoon. The light is of a peculiar, +velvety yellow then, and the mountains grow purple along their bases; +farther up there are deep blue blurs; and the ragged rims show black +against a glow. The widow exclaimed in rapture; then, apparently +remembering her bereavement, assumed a look of sadness; and she made the +last few miles of the journey in a gentle melancholy. + +Nobody appeared to welcome them. A tipsy Mexican lolled in a chair on +the veranda, and another was making music for him on a guitar. From time +to time the man in the rocker would nod approval and command a fresh +tune. Near the corrals, about twenty natives were hi-yi-ing at the +breaking of a horse. + +When the majordomo perceived the buckboard, he put down his cup +reluctantly, placed the bottle beside the leg of the chair and came to +meet them. Lafe saw at once that a fortnight of authority and freedom +from restraint had played havoc with the man. Nevertheless, he greeted +them suavely, and when he learned who the passenger was, cried an order +over his shoulder. Three or four men ran to take the mules. + +"Aren't there any whites on the place?" asked Mrs. MacFarlane uneasily. + +"Hughie, he done fired them all. Pete Harris used to be boss here, but +him and Hughie had words over something, and Pete got his time." + +Johnson did not consider it necessary to add that the veteran Pete's +antipathy to all-native labor had been responsible for this rupture with +MacFarlane, and that the vaquero playing the guitar still held his job, +although Pete had incontinently discharged him months before. Nor did he +mention that the man with the guitar had a sister. As to that, he had +heard nothing but rumors, and he was never inclined to believe half of +what he heard. + +Hughie's old servant, Salazar, waited on the two at supper. He had a +shrewd notion that Lafe was the lady's admirer, with an eye to the +property; but what booted it? All through the meal he watched Mrs. +MacFarlane stolidly and addressed her as "Senorita," which was a brainy +proceeding. However, he told Paula in the kitchen that she was Hughie's +wife and a ravishingly beautiful woman. The girl received the +intelligence with somber calm. + +Twice she came out on to the veranda where they sat afterwards--once to +fill the water bag; again, to draw from it. Mrs. MacFarlane asked who +she was, her age, and where her mother was. She obtained evasive +answers, but was too abstracted to give thought to what might have +troubled her at any other time. + +"She's so pretty--so awfully pretty. Are they all as beautiful as that?" + +"No-oo. I should say not. Paula, she's got most of 'em hiding out in +the long grass," said Lafe, without enthusiasm. + +There is a quality about a southwest night that saddens, or elevates +above all petty trouble, according to temperament and conditions of +health. Moreover, it can make everyday worries seem trivial, which +surely is a God-given thing. As the languid dust thickened, Mrs. +MacFarlane grew depressed. The silence became longer and her replies +punctilious. Soon she bade him good-night. The drive had made her very +sleepy, she said. Johnson started down to the Mexican quarters. A dance +was in progress there, and it was impossible to say to what lengths the +revelers might go unless convinced that authority slept under +headquarters' roof. + +As he stepped down, he became aware that someone leaned against a +shade-tree in the yard. It was Paula, and she was watching Mrs. +MacFarlane's lighted window. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A SACRIFICE AND ITS PUNISHMENT + + +Salazar was not on hand at breakfast, having contracted a sickness in +the head during a dispute at the ball. Paula brought in the dishes. She +fixed her solemn, round eyes on Mrs. MacFarlane and Johnson could read a +questioning in their limpid steadiness. Once she spoke sharply. He gave +a curt answer and appeared perturbed. + +"What does she want?" asked Hughie's widow. + +"Nothing, ma'am. It ain't anything." + +"She looks angry," Mrs. MacFarlane persisted. + +"No-oo. She says the toast is burned. That's all." + +"Nonsense. The toast's delicious," said the widow. + +They went on with the meal. Hanging above the sideboard was a portrait +of Hughie. It was a wretched thing in crayon, framed in wide gilt of +sumptuous design, but the drawing had been a gift to MacFarlane from a +friend in the cow business, and accordingly he had allotted it a place +of honor. The widow saw this at breakfast for the first time. Hughie's +face wore a simper, but the likeness must have recalled him in tender +moods, for two large tears gathered on her cheeks and slid slowly +downward. + +Paula, entering with fried eggs, noted the direction of her gaze and +saw, also, the tears splash on the widow's plate. Mrs. MacFarlane was +extracting a handkerchief from her sleeve and she smiled wanly at the +girl to intimate that the matter of the toast really did not weigh in +the least. It was kindly meant, but Paula failed altogether to +understand. She dropped the platter and began to jabber. It is of no +importance what she said. At her first words Johnson jumped up, but she +pushed him back into his seat and cried names at Hughie's widow it was +lucky that good lady knew not the meaning of. She crooked her fingers +under Mrs. MacFarlane's nose, and when the widow tried, in her +astonishment and indignation, to rise from the table, Paula seized a +plate. Lafe pinned her arms. There was a tremendous to-do for a few +minutes, with Paula shrilling and tugging. + +After the first shock, the widow regarded the girl's struggles without +apprehension. Lafe contrived to drag Paula from the room. In the +kitchen, her access of rage evaporated swiftly, and she sobbed, her face +buried in her arms against the wall. Johnson returned, panting. + +"Now," Mrs. MacFarlane said steadily, "I want to know what this means." + +This was natural enough, and Lafe had been thinking faster than he had +ever thought in his life. He began an elaborate dissertation on +standards along the Border--how different they were to those back east. +It was in his mind to persuade the widow that men were apt to depart +from the charted paths when removed from the compelling force of an +established moral sentiment. That would give him a chance to lead up to +Hughie's backsliding by easy stages. + +Such was his plan. It might have worked smoothly with any other woman, +or done by a man of readier wit. But as he looked into Mrs. MacFarlane's +face, the affair assumed a different aspect to Lafe. He could not tear +down the image of Hughie she had builded and kneeled to during eleven +years. There came a tremor in his voice and his speech trailed off into +weak incoherencies. He paused, braced himself and started again. + +"That's better," said Mrs. MacFarlane, very white, and deadly quiet. +"That sounds more manly." + +Once squared away to his task, Johnson did it well. He showed an amazing +aptitude for lying. Looking the outraged widow straight in the eye, he +lied--lied gloriously--so that, as she heard him, Mrs. MacFarlane +gradually shrank back. She appeared to expand and grow taller in her +contempt--to Lafe she seemed to fill the room--but when he deftly added +a picturesque touch about Paula deluding herself with the suspicion that +Mrs. MacFarlane and himself were much too friendly--he told her this +with a savage zest--the widow exclaimed, "The very idea! Oh, the +creature!" + +"And you were Hughie's friend?" she remarked when he had ended. Of +course, that was the monstrous side of this affair. + +"Well, you see, ma'am, him and me--" + +"And Hetty Ferrier!" + +Now, Lafe had forgotten Hetty in all this. Had Mrs. MacFarlane been a +wiser woman, she might have read a different story from his eyes in that +instant. + +"It's my duty to tell her, Mr. Johnson," Mrs. MacFarlane went on, +sustained by that sense of moral obligation which overtakes us all in +dealing with our friends' private affairs. + +"It ain't right, ma'am," said Lafe. "It ain't proper that a girl should +hear such things." + +"Ho, indeed!" the widow sniffed. "It isn't, hey? We'll see about that. I +suppose Hetty's a baby? And let a sweet girl like her marry a man like +you?" + +"You aim to tell her, Miz MacFarlane?" + +"I certainly shall." + +"Wait. Hold on a minute," he begged. + +"There's nothing you can say, Mr. Johnson. I won't listen. Good-by. It +won't be necessary for you to drive me back. I will get Salazar. No, I +don't want to hear anything more. I won't listen. I've heard too much +already. That will do, please. Let me by." + +She swept past him as though marching on a citadel, and Johnson +withdrew, limp and wretched. Indeed, he looked and felt, at the moment, +the thing Mrs. MacFarlane thought he was. There obtains a notion that an +innocent man's innocence will shine from his face like the sun breaking +through clouds. It is a comfortable thought. The facts, however, are +that he is very likely to show much bewilderment under sudden +accusation, whereas the hardy scoundrel will summon up the most +blighting wrath when brought face to face with his misdoings. + +Hughie's widow retired to her room, where, with a photograph of Hughie +on the table in front of her, she had a long cry. Then she sat down and +wrote to Hetty Ferrier, lest she be swerved from her high purpose by +subsequent happenings, or neglect it through bad memory. Salazar +received orders to hitch the team to take her back to town, and the +majordomo promised that Paula would be sent back to her mother, who +lived on the far side of Tepitate. Her conscience serene, Mrs. +MacFarlane gave the majordomo some money for the girl, which the +majordomo pocketed against a holiday in the city. As he intended to +marry Paula some day, it may be that he regarded this as dowry and +consequently his own. Then the widow drove back to the Hotel Carmen, and +a week later boarded the train for the homeward journey. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +BUFFALO JIM GIVES WISE COUNSEL + + +Johnson departed the ranch like a sneak-thief, keeping well off the +trail for fear he should be overtaken by Mrs. MacFarlane and further +humiliated by a blank stare. He wanted to take counsel of Buffalo Jim, +who now lived in Cananea, as I have said, among drying hides and the +fresh carcasses of steers. If you follow a road out of this city--the +wood haulers use it, for the most part, with their laden burros--you +will descend a mesa by wide sweeps and run slap against a slaughter +house. There are corrals and stables also, and a thousand carrion crows +will acknowledge your coming by a reluctant lifting of wings. Here +Lafe's friend resided and slew thirty head daily for beef. Perhaps his +occupation contributed to the study of human problems--killing things is +a serious business--at any rate, Buffalo really knew all that a man may +know in this life. + +He took an extremely pessimistic view of Johnson's prospects. Of course, +the girl would believe Mrs. MacFarlane. That was only natural. A woman +might stick to a man through every crime in the calendar against his +fellow men, and still hold faith in him; but when another woman entered +into the plot, it was time for a new deal; he was as good as done for, +then. Thus spake Buffalo Jim. He advised Lafe, however, to write Hetty +without delay. By so doing, he might forestall the widow and prepare the +young lady. + +"It'll sort of give the widow woman your dust," he explained, "and then +she's liable to make a bad throw." + +Accordingly, Johnson went to the Hotel Carmen and sat himself down at a +desk in a corner. He chose some neatly ruled paper and dipped the pen; +everything in due order. After that he coughed and consumed some minutes +in staring fixedly at the blank sheets. He had no heart for this task. +Resolute in all the crises of his man's life, this was beyond him. + +Then he began to write, the pen scratching and sputtering over the page. +The sentences opened with firmness and precision, but gradually slanted +towards the lower corner. First his spurs bothered him, and he took them +off. Next, his neckerchief became sticky and he untied it and left his +shirt collar open. + +"If you keep a-writing much more, Lafe, you'll be naked," said the +landlord critically. + +Some cowboys passed through and invited Johnson to join them, but he +shook them off. At last it was finished. + + _Dear Friend:_ + + How are you? + + I am sitting in a room it is a big room and a lot of loafers + keep coming and going but genrally coming. + + This is to say I am well and doing fine I hope you are well + and doing fine. Say a lady met up with me here a few days ago + who said she knew you ain't that a hot one to spring on me + sudden. She is a right nice lady though she don't care a heap + what I think I reckon she as good as toald me I was a bad egg. + Perhaps I am a bad egg how about it. + + She said she was going to write to you. I done the best that I + could and it don't seem fair it ain't right that you should + hear what she said she was going to write to you and besides it + was all a stall and wasn't true but you musn't tell that to + Mrs. MacFarlane because it would make her feel bad. Hughie he + was a friend of mine but Hughie wasn't of no account in some + ways for he spoke Mex too good now when a man gets that twist + on his r's and begins to hang around with the natives its time + to take a new hand all round because he ain't satisfied with + his color no more. No sirree it don't do to talk the lingo to + good and I make them speak my language which will improve their + morals if they only had some to improve that was what ailed + Hughie but she must not know and so you be careful. I hope I + have made it all clear. + + The heat is fierce to-day I am going to take a little drink + when this is finished I don't take them often only a few with + Buffalo Jim and some of the boys. Do you remember the call down + you done give me about that. Ha ha that was sure a dandy. + + How is it back there in Badger Old Lee is there likely ain't + he. Give him my regards the Widow Brown must be there too give + her my regards. Fred Hall and I used to be thicker than thieves + give him my regards. Say tell him to smoke up and let out a + roar of some kind. + + There is not much round here to tell you about Cal and Tim + tangled and Tim is under doc's care he's pretty sore. I done + told you about them before. Jerry's wife done run off and Jerry + is scared to death she'll come back but perhaps she wont. I + told him to hope for the best because he cant do nothing more + than that. + + Say you'll think I'm trying for to write you a book but I + wanted to get this thing about Mrs. Mac straight so you'd + understand. There's a lot a feller would like to say that he + don't like to say you know how that is and a lot of loafers + hanging round trying to guy you. But a feller thinks a lot + sometimes. + + Cattle in good shape and prices right but we need rain bad. I + got to go south to find Steve Moffatt right soon perhaps he + ain't where I think he is but will take a chance. + + Well you must have laid down for a sleep by this time and + wonder when I'm going to cut this out I have written so much. + Don't you pay no attention to what Mrs. MacFarlane says though + she is a right nice lady and I ain't got no hard feelings one + way or the other. Well its about time I quit this well + good-bye. I'd like mighty well to hear how you are. I'll bet + you're looking fine. + + Yours truly, + + LAFE JOHNSON. + +Lafe was master of a loose and flowing hand, which had served him +faithfully on cattle tallies--he was not called upon to make written +reports as sheriff--but made a bulky letter. He dropped this missive, +with many misgivings, into a box, and then took horse for the south. We +will not follow him, because ten days of fourteen hours in the saddle +and a steady diet of beans and tortillas and coffee will grow monotonous +to a refined taste. Moreover, tracking down a thief cannot be of any +interest to us of larger effort. + +In good time the sheriff returned, but of Moffatt he had found no trace. +Immediately upon arrival, he inquired at the telegraph office for +messages, expecting that Haverty would have wired him further +information from Badger. The man behind the counter listened with a +far-away expression and then assured him sadly that there was nothing. +Lafe went away in doubt and returned next morning, insisting that the +telegrapher had made a mistake; a letter received from Haverty spoke of +a wire sent the day of his departure. The official shrugged his +shoulders at this display of bull-headed persistence, so typically +American, and asked him once again for his name. Then, still pensive, he +thumbed over a pile of flimsy. + +"Johnsing, you said?" + +"Sure. Johnson. That's me. I done told you that a thousand times." + +"Ah, yes. Here are two," said the telegrapher, and very deliberately he +smoothed out the messages and delivered them. + +The first dealt with dates of Moffatt's appearances on the Border, so +far as Haverty had been able to learn them. They were nothing but +unconfirmed rumors, and Lafe skimmed over it. The other was unsigned and +he read it several times, the copper hue of his face deepening. + + "Don't worry. Nobody can lie to me about you." + +He thrust this message into his shirt pocket and forgot all about the +reproof he had rehearsed for the telegrapher's benefit. Very jauntily he +exhibited the slip to Buffalo Jim at the slaughter house. That worthy +butcher eyed it gravely, and grunted. + +"She's a daisy," he said, after mature consideration, vaguely aware that +Lafe expected him to say something appropriate. + +"You're damn whistlin'," said Lafe. "What'd I tell you, Buf'lo? She'd +never believe nothing against me." + +"Yes, sir, she's a daisy," Buffalo repeated. "It's like she just tore +up that widow woman's letter and was as sarcastic as hell." + +As Jim said this, he winked at one of the wagon horses. Then he went +leisurely to work again on a piece of harness he was patching. + +"All the same, Lafe," he admonished, "you'd better figure on her +throwing that up to you again. The woman never breathed that wouldn't. +Hey? You mark my words--the first row you have, Hetty'll hand you one +about Paula, first crack out of the box." + +"You don't know her." + +"No, I don't," said Buffalo Jim, "but I've knowed a heap of others." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE SHERIFF PURGES TOWN OF BADGER + + +The sheriff, rather crestfallen, was obliged to return to Badger without +Moffatt. Having lost all trace of him, he was suspicious that the +gunfighter would strike unexpectedly from another direction; perhaps in +Badger itself, relying on Johnson's absence. His acquaintance with +Moffatt had been short, but sufficient to persuade Lafe that he was most +to be feared when nobody knew his whereabouts. + +Arrived in town and refreshed, Lafe went straight to Dutch Annie. Nobody +in the community was especially predisposed toward Moffatt except a few +hangers-on at the Fashion who had enjoyed his largess, and a lady known +as Picnic Kate. Picnic Kate lived with Dutch Annie. Her name suffices to +describe her, and as persons who have no nice friends are unworthy our +consideration, I will let her case rest there. However, the sheriff had +a shrewd notion that if anybody knew, or was apt to learn, anything +concerning Moffatt, Picnic was the individual. + +"I ain't saw him since him and you had that run-in up at the Fashion," +said Kate. + +The sheriff was convinced she was lying, but merely nodded. + +Hetty welcomed him back with some shyness. It puzzled Johnson until he +recalled the date, and then he looked troubled. + +"Hetty," said he, "we've got to put off the wedding again. We can't be +married yet." + +"Why not?" + +The sheriff gave a short laugh. "I don't want you a widow as soon as +you're a wife." + +"What's the matter, Lafe? What do you talk that way for? A widow?" + +"Moffatt's somewhere around here, I'll swear," said the sheriff. "Jeff +Thomas sent me a letter to-day--here, look. He says Steve swears he'll +get me." + +"Well?" + +They were standing in the front room of the Widow Brown's. Lafe sat down +and tried to talk naturally, preferring not to take cognizance of the +probing of Hetty's eyes. + +"You see, hon, Steve is the last of the ol' tough bunch. I'll get him. +It'll only take a few days--something's sure to break right away--don't +look so scared, hon--we'll be married in a month, I bet you." + +Hetty looked down at him like a queen of tragedy in a ten-twenty-thirty +tent show performance. She said slowly: "No, we won't. I've got a +feeling we won't ever be married." + +"Pshaw!" said Johnson. "Don't talk like that." + +"But I feel like that." + +"Women always get ideas like that of yours in their heads. If somebody +looks cross at a feller, they can see a funeral with all his friends +sending Gates Ajar wreaths. No, ma'am. I ain't ready for mine yet +awhile." + +"Why don't you throw it all up?" she asked abruptly. + +"You mean my job? Resign? Quit being sheriff?" + +"Yes, I do. Oh, you're bound to get killed some day. And for heaven's +sake, what is there in it? If things go right--well, that's what they're +supposed to do, anyhow. But if things go wrong, you get blamed." Hetty +spun around to the window when she saw Lafe's expression of amazement. +She gazed out at the ugly, huddled nakedness of Badger, and there was +loathing in her eyes. + +"The place ain't fit for a human to live in." + +"You won't have to stay here long, hon," the sheriff reminded her. + +"But anything's apt to happen before that. We've put it off twice +already." + +"Once," Lafe corrected. + +He rose and stood before her. She kept her face averted, but did not +withdraw her hand when he took it. At last he said: "You'd have me quit? +You'd have me back down when they--all these here people--done put me in +just because they thought I was the best man to clean up this here +place? I don't believe it. Not for a minute, Hetty. It ain't like you." + +"Gunmen aren't the only toughs in this town," she said darkly. + +"I don't take you, ma'am. Oh, you mean--them?" He pointed to the +outskirts of Badger, to the red, tinned roof of Dutch Annie's abode. + +"Yes, I do," said Hetty, flushing. + +The subject was dropped for the time and they fell to discussing +furniture for the house in Hope Canon. Then, as he bade her good-night, +Lafe remarked in a casual voice, as though the step were routine: "I'll +do that, too." + +"Do what?" + +"Clear out that crowd. There'll be an awful howl all around town, but +I'll do it." + +He had gone a hundred yards when she called him back. + +"Oh, Lafe." + +"What is it?" he asked, returning. + +"That poor creature--Sarah--you remember Jackson?" + +"I thought we agreed not to say nothing about that feller." + +"Yes, but--well, I might--you'll look after her, won't you, Lafe?" + +"Sure. They'll be all right. Don't you worry. Good-night." + +He was very serious as he took his way homeward. What he planned to do +amounted to a moral revolution in Badger, and there would assuredly be +an outcry and a tremendous to-do. True, the town had been purged before. +Once, in the hottest of the hot weather, driven to frenzy by Brother +Ducey's exhortations--he was a genius in choosing the purgatorial months +for his vivid pictures of a living hell--a crowd of citizens had rushed +from the meeting, and, surging across the sand-flats to the +establishment of Dutch Annie's predecessor, had ousted the merry sisters +in the dark of the night. But, as is usual in such cases, reaction from +their zeal was swift and far-reaching. Dutch Annie came and flourished; +and when the citizens of Badger elected Johnson sheriff, no mention of +this cancer in the body social was made in the program of reform. + +Lafe now reflected on these things from a new view-point. His conclusion +was: "It ain't decent. Hetty's got the rights of this, I reckon." + +To many aspects of their Border life, he had given scant thought. Where +much that ought to be viewed with horror is tolerated as an established +factor in communal life by law-abiding people, a man tends to become +complaisant of laxity. Many evils existing in Badger had never struck +the sheriff as such, simply because they had always been; but he was +learning. Little glimpses of Hetty's healthy outlook on things shook his +own code of conduct to its spine and filled him with a species of awe. + +"Let 'em roar," he said firmly. "It'll be a mighty fine wedding present +for her. Besides, it'll make Steve wild." + +The sheriff was an execrable politician, else he would have proceeded +differently. Had he possessed the sagacity of a ward leader, how he +would have corralled the reform vote by going at his task with beating +of drums and a fanfare of announcements. Lafe took quite another method. +He paid a call, in a spirit approaching friendliness, and after some +vehement protests, he departed with a promise extracted. + +Dutch Annie was as good as her word. Next day a little company of +pilgrims boarded the stage, bound for the railway. They looked sadly +worn in the glare of sunlight, in spite of extravagant efforts with the +rouge pot and the powder rag, but they put a brave face on the situation +and exchanged badinage with a few choice spirits gathered to witness the +departure. + +"Well, so long, Lafe," said Dutch Annie, who was a just woman, according +to her lights. "It was right mean, but I reckon you had to do it. And +you've acted the gen'l'man, which is more'n I can say for a lot of +loafers in this here town." + +Sellers cracked his long whip, the mules lurched against their collars +and the stage rattled away. This was the last that Badger ever saw of +Dutch Annie. + +So quietly had the feat been accomplished that the town really did not +awake to the fact until they had gone. Then criticism broke out. + +"I suppose you'd call it the right thing, looked at in a large way, +Lafe," ventured the landlord of the Cowboys' Rest in mild protest. "It's +more religious, in course. But you'd ought to have thunk of some of the +boys." + +Others assumed a violent tone, but these excoriations were delivered +where the sheriff did not hear them. Consequently they hurt neither him +nor those who made them. They held that he had exceeded his duties and +powers; his job was to do what was bidden in the by-laws to preserve +order, not to regulate the private morals of everybody in the town. Man +alive, first thing one knew, Johnson would be breaking up card play, and +it wouldn't be safe for a man to shake dice with a barkeep for the +drinks. Jake Taylor, who had once been a miner, and who had now joined +the leisure classes through inclination rather than fortune, talked +freely of the referendum and recall. + +The sheriff was fully aware of what was being said. Yet it gave him a +new sense of power to feel, also, back of his act, the support of the +better element. They arrayed themselves with him unostentatiously, for +fear of ruptures that might work harm to business. Nevertheless, he knew +their support could be counted on. Indeed, Turner and other substantial +men of the place hastened to assure the sheriff that he had done a brave +thing. Not a word of it did he breathe to Hetty, but when he called for +her to go walking the following night, she was waiting for him at the +gate, and when Johnson saw her smile of understanding and confidence, he +knew he would not repent, whatever might befall. + +"No news of Steve yet," he told her. + +"Oh, Lafe, do be careful. They tell such dreadful things about him. Mrs. +Brown says he could hit a two-bit piece at a hundred yards." + +"Don't. Let's be cheerful," said the sheriff, and laughed. "It'll only +be a few days, hon. I'll get him all right." + +"Well," said Hetty, with a sigh of content, clinging to his arm, +"there's one comfort. If anything ever did happen to you, I'd know it, +if you were in Jericho." + +"How?" he asked, much diverted. + +"Why, you booby, I could feel it. Isn't it strange, Lafe? I feel as if +we'd known each other all our lives. We must have been made for each +other." + +"That's right queer," said the sheriff solemnly. "I often get that +feeling myself." + +As I have a suspicion that other loving young people have talked like +this before, enough of it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A FIGHT IN THE DARK + + +As Lafe was coming from dinner at the Fashion annex next noon, a Mexican +handed him a letter. It was undated and without beginning. + +[Illustration: "As Lafe was coming from dinner ... a Mexican handed him +a letter."] + + Steve's sore. Look out for him. + + ANNIE. + +The sheriff had received so many warnings in his time that he had grown +callous and seldom attached any significance to them, but he knew that +Dutch Annie was not given to foolish alarm. So he tore her note into +minute particles and saw to the oiling of his six-shooter. That was the +only preparation against trouble that Johnson was wont to make. + +The sheriff's two-roomed frame shack was somewhat removed from its +neighbors. It was a full half mile from the Widow's house, where Hetty +lodged. His housekeeping had a fine touch of simplicity. If all things +were favorable, and he had nothing else to do, Lafe would make the bed +once in a while. To do him justice, he had been known to sweep the +place, also. That was not a particularly arduous task, because the +furniture consisted of the bed aforesaid, one chair, one table with +three legs, which stood propped against the wall, and a packing case for +a washstand. + +About seven o'clock that evening he led a spare horse to the Widow's +house and took Hetty for a ride. They talked of the future--soberly, +almost as a staid married couple. She never indulged in coquetry, and +their courtship had not been of the kind to make jealousy of others +expedient or a desirable weapon for her use. After she had dismounted at +the gate: + +"I wish you weren't going. I'm sort of nervous to-night." + +The sheriff smiled down at her. "I reckon you'd best get a glass case to +keep me in, hon." + +"I know it's silly--but you'll be awful careful, won't you, Lafe?" + +"Sure," he said. "There ain't a native in ten counties that likes +getting hurt less'n I do." + +He put the horses up and repaired to the Fashion, for he had it in mind +to ascertain the latest gossip of Moffatt. It was not to be supposed +that a man of the outlaw's temper would take the expulsion of Picnic +Kate from Badger in a spirit of decorous humility. + +The proprietor had it on excellent authority that Steve was far down on +the Baccanochi range, endeavoring to cheat the natives out of a herd of +stock cattle. The sheriff stood at the bar and conversed for a space. + +"You got a new gun, Lafe?" asked the Fashion man, pointing to his belt. + +"No-oo. Just been cleaning this up some." + +The other held out a languid hand and Johnson passed him the gun. It was +a workmanlike .45 Colt, single action, and the hammer rested on an empty +chamber for safety. The Fashion proprietor turned it over with the ease +and appreciation of an expert. He pulled back the hammer and twirled the +chambers. + +"She's a beaut," said he. + +"Yes, that's a right good gun," Lafe agreed. He received it back +carelessly, and slipped it into the holster. They chatted indifferently +for a moment, and Lafe drank a nightcap and started home. + +The night was thick and sticky. Back of the mountains thunder was +muttering. The air clung about him like a soft blanket. Some bull-bats +wheeled above his head. Lafe glanced at the dirty sky and wondered +whether those hurrying wracks of clouds would shed rain. They had a +pitiless habit of holding out hope, only to blow over, leaving the +country gasping. + +His door was shut. It struck him as odd, because he never locked his +house, having nothing of value to safeguard. Inside, it was so black +that the darkness seemed to rise up and buffet him in the face. He +crossed the empty outer room and felt his way to the table against the +far wall. On it stood always an empty bottle, a candle crammed into the +neck. This was the sheriff's light system. + +His hands groped over the rough surface, but he could not find the +candle, nor the matches usually piled close beside. He fumbled in his +pocket--nothing there but some keys and loose silver. + +"Pshaw!" he muttered. "Well, it don't matter. I can undress in the +dark." + +He moved towards the bed. Then he halted and his stomach muscles +contracted. Slowly his head turned to see what was behind. There was +somebody in the room. He stared until his eyes smarted, but could see +nothing. He listened, but could catch no sound. Yet, somewhere close to +him, a living thing moved; he was positive of that. Nobody had ever +questioned Johnson's courage, but now he experienced a peculiar gripping +of the throat and a pringling over all his skin. + +"Who's there?" he asked, and waited. + +"Who's there, I say?" + +Surely there was a faint stirring in the corner, the merest pinpoint of +a sound. The sheriff whipped out his gun. He could descry nothing, but +pointing his forefinger along the barrel to where he thought an object +crouched, he thumbed the hammer. It fell with a click on an empty +chamber. Before he could pull again, a body hurled itself through the +dark on Johnson. + +Instantly he grappled it. A knife thrust was the danger now, and he +locked his arms about his assailant and heaved sideways, driving his hip +against the opposing hip to give momentum to the throw. The other lost +his feet and Lafe swung with all his weight, but they crashed against +the wall, which brought them upstanding. While one could count ten, the +two stood breast to breast, panting. + +The sheriff suddenly brought his right knee upward with force, desirous +of driving it into his opponent's stomach, but the blow was caught on +the thigh, and again they went lurching about the room, gasping for +breath, but voiceless. As he strove to pin the jerking arms, Johnson's +mind ran automatically on the empty chamber. How had the hammer happened +on that? Sure--the Fashion man had done it. + +The discovery gave him new strength. In swift rage he tried for a lower +hold, feeling his enemy weaken. The momentary release of his grip was +enough. The other wrenched one arm free and swung it. Lafe was dimly +conscious of a crash and the tinkle of broken glass. He felt no pain. It +seemed to him that trains were rushing by at high speed, and he was +beset with the idea that he had something to do that he was powerless to +perform. He crumpled up and slid to the floor, his fingers scratching +the boards for the handle of his six-shooter, but all the strength +seemed gone from them. And now, mingling with the roar of the train and +the harsh screaming of brakes, was the rattle of a horse's hoofs. The +sheriff stretched out on his back and sighed. + +The patter of rain on the roof was the first sound that aroused Johnson. +Assuredly the house leaked, for there were warm drops falling on his +face, too. Next, he heard somebody strike a match, and he began to +speculate in a sort of languid wonder as to what a woman was doing there +and what made her cry. Then a shooting pain above the right ear wrung an +exclamation from him and he tried to sit up. + +"Don't. Don't. You must lie still." + +"Hetty," he said. + +She knelt beside him and held a wet handkerchief to the wound. + +"You're hurt bad, Lafe. Don't talk," she whispered. + +"Steve Moffatt--" + +"Yes, I know, dear. Lie still." + +Splinters of a bottle strewed the floor around him. So Moffatt had got +away. The sheriff looked weakly at Hetty. + +"How did you get here?" + +"Hush. You mustn't talk. Keep still and I'll go for Dr. Armstrong." + +"How--?" + +"I heard you calling me," she said. + +"Calling you?" the sheriff repeated. "Why, hon, I never said a word." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CAPTURE OF MOFFATT, THE GUNMAN + + +For more than a month, the sheriff lay sick. Armstrong feared concussion +of the brain, but his diagnosis proved incorrect. And Hetty nursed him +as never a man was nursed before, in that country of rough methods. +Indeed, her devotion was so pronounced that the entire sentiment of +Badger underwent a change. The married ladies came to the tardy +conclusion that Miss Ferrier belonged to the sisterhood of good women; +none of the males had ever doubted it; the whole town paid tribute to +her conduct, and their indignation against the sheriff's assailant waxed +correspondingly. + +At the beginning of the first week of convalescence, the Floyds arrived +in Badger from the Lazy L. Mrs. Floyd was hampered by no scruples on the +score of false modesty; if her husband did not object--if her Tom +understood--what mattered it about the rest of the world? So, straight +to Lafe's bedside she went. + +"Lafe! Dear old Lafe," she exclaimed, when she saw the unnatural pallor +of his face. + +Hetty was standing at the other side of the bed. She tried bravely not +to stiffen towards their visitor when she saw her kneel and take Lafe's +hand, but some subtle sense of divination--or perhaps it was that Mrs. +Floyd was so pretty--made her reception frigid. Mrs. Floyd glanced +quickly into her face, then seized her impetuously, crying: "Don't. Oh, +please don't. Lafe and I were babies together." + +Whereupon the amazed patient beheld Hetty clasp the smaller woman in her +arms, and the two took to weeping. + +This must have been excellent for his complaint, because the sheriff +mended rapidly from that date. It was not long before he went about as +usual, although a long strip of plaster adorned one ear. His first care +was to talk with the proprietor of the Fashion, who said: "The hammer +was on the wrong chamber? Why, Lafe, surely you don't think--" + +That was exactly what the sheriff thought. It ended in the saloonkeeper +leaving town in haste. Then the sheriff set quietly to work to ascertain +whither Moffatt had flown for refuge. It would be so warm for him along +the Border now, that a haven would be difficult. + +"We'd best to wait a mite yet, Hetty," he told his fiancee again. +"Supposing he was to get me? No, no. It's either me or him. So let's +just keep the wedding off a while, hon, and then this'll all be +straightened out." + +"Oh--all right." + +"You see, hon, I want to have a clean slate," he went on rather lamely. +"Don't you understand? Before we get married, I aim to throw up this job +of sheriff and take to running cattle with ol' Horne." + +"Huh-huh." + +"Don't look that way, hon. Steve, he's the last. I'll go get him and +then I'll have done what they put me in for." + +"Oh, of course, if you think more of the people who elected you than you +do of me," said Hetty. + +For a moment he seemed taken aback. Then his face cleared and he swept +Hetty into his arms. + +He did not have long to wait for news of the outlaw. A telegram came +from Floyd of the Lazy L. + + Steve Moffatt in Lost Springs mountains. Heading for the Jug. + Killed Pablo Jiminez to-day while running off bunch of horses. + Horne and I offer five hundred reward for him. + +It was because of this wire that the sheriff rode up a canon in Lost +Springs on a cool October afternoon. The wind played through the +live-oaks and scrub-cedar and went whistling upward to be lost among the +solemn peaks. Some cattle were watering at a shallow hole. A ground +squirrel scurried across his front. From all about came the soft, +mournful cooing of wild doves. + +All morning he had been climbing. Sometimes he traveled three miles to +gain a mile of distance; winding upward to high mesas, skirting them and +descending into another canon nearer the summits toward which Moffatt +was heading. + +Presently he was confronted by a wall of rock. It was a sheer thirty +feet in height and water oozed down its face into a small pool. There +seemed no way out and Lafe scanned the cliffs in search of the trail. +While he lolled thus in the saddle, there came a shot from above his +head and his horse winced. Without hesitation he fell to the ground and +scrambled on hands and knees to the shelter of a tree. + +"I near got you that time, Johnson," a clear voice called to him. + +It came from behind the crags above the pool. Then he thought he heard +the ring of a horse's shoe on stone, but he was too cautious to expose +himself at once. For fully an hour he waited, listening for evidence of +his enemy and occasionally sighting along the barrel of his 30-30. Then, +persuaded Moffatt had seized the chance to increase his lead, he +remounted and continued the pursuit. A wale along his mount's shoulder +was the only injury. + +"He's scared, or he could have got me then," said Lafe, examining this +with much satisfaction. + +In late afternoon he threaded a broad canon and entered on a stretch of +brakes, perhaps six miles in length and one in width. The top of its +numberless bald hills overlooked the canon's sides. The track he +followed ran along a narrow plateau. At intervals, chalky cliffs dropped +sheer away on his right hand to a depth of two hundred feet, and there +were gaping cavities into which a mountain could have been dumped, +resembling in their formation the craters of extinct volcanoes. Giant +fissures showed in the mounds of salmon-colored clay, and, close beside +him, a yawning void threatened, whence a hundred thousand tons of shale +had slid. Of vegetation there was none here, save a tangle of +prickly-pear at the mouth of a gulch. + +"There he goes now," said the sheriff, pricking his horse. + +Moffatt was nearly a mile ahead and moving leisurely, as though he had +no fear. He topped a rise and waved his hand at Johnson before dipping +out of sight. + +This confidence was partially explained when the sheriff eased his horse +down the declivity that had shut him from view and discovered a break in +the trail. At this point it ended at a huge rock, and split. One part +ran along the base of the rock and then turned back in the direction he +had come. At least it so looked, but he could not see its ultimate +destination because of the broken nature of the country. The other path +made a slight detour and went on, past the rock. + +"Huh-huh," said Johnson, pulling up. "Sure. He's back of me again, the +rascal." + +In spite of an effort by Moffatt to disguise his imprint at the +junction, the trail lay plain to Lafe. It was too old a game for him to +be deceived; had he not once, on a previous hunt, detected Moffatt's +ruse in changing his horse's shoes so that the corks were in front? +Suddenly he uttered an exclamation and got down in the dust on his +hands and knees. There was a second trail, and it was following +Moffatt's. + +It came from beyond the rock, and then changed direction and now +overlapped the outlaw's. Had the two met? It was probable that Moffatt +had come upon a confederate, for this was the region of the Jug, the +rendezvous for fugitives. But why, then, had the two not come to meet +him? + +"That ain't Steve's way," Johnson reflected. "It's like they're laying +for me up the trail a piece." + +Neither did this solution satisfy him. One thing alone about the look of +the two tracks seemed to make the notion of two confederates riding +peacefully in single file untenable. The last rider was going faster +than the other. Then he must be in pursuit. + +Debating these possibilities, the sheriff advanced with caution. +Limestone cliffs soon hemmed him in. He came upon a steer as he crossed +a tiny mountain stream. The animal dashed away, wild as an antelope. +Just before he made the next turn, Johnson glanced back. The steer had +stopped to gaze after him. It would not willingly leave the vicinity of +the water it had come six miles to get. + +The going became so rough that his horse faltered and the sheriff feared +that he might maim himself any moment on the rocks. The way was nothing +but a succession of narrow gorges, leading one into the other and +cluttered with bowlders; ever ascending, the light became more subdued +as the canon's walls grew steeper and higher. He calculated that he +must be nearing the summits of Lost Springs. + +A shot reverberated among the cliffs in front of him; then another. The +echoes rolled and multiplied. The abrupt detonations startled his mount, +which sprang under the quick, nervous grasp of the knee. A stone gave +under foot, and down came horse and rider with a jolt like a trunk being +dumped from a baggage car. + +The sheriff instantly cheeked his horse, holding his head down by main +strength lest the beast rise and trample him. His foot hung in the +stirrup and the spur was caught in the blanket. There was no need for +this precaution. The poor brute lay where he fell, nostrils quivering +and his breath coming in tearing gasps. Instantly realizing that he was +seriously hurt, Lafe began to extricate himself. He slowly drew his leg +from the boot; free, leaped upward and pinned the horse's head with his +knee. One look at the right foreleg was sufficient. Johnson stuck his +gun to the white star on its forehead and pulled the trigger. + +He was now thoroughly angry. + +"Doggone that scoundrel. I'll go get him if I have to walk barefoot from +here to the Jug," he declared wrathfully. + +A good horse gone, and Moffatt still ahead! Yet he had much to be +thankful for. He was unhurt except for a severe shaking, and a bruise to +his ankle. The sheriff wasted no time on his predicament, but removed +saddle, bridle and blanket from the body and hid them in a hole high up +among rocks. + +The boot came with the saddle, and having tied his handkerchief about +the injured ankle, he went forward again, carrying the rifle in one +hand, the boot in the other. + +He entered a wider gorge, well wooded with post-oak. The ground rose +steeply and the canon narrowed half a mile ahead to an oval opening +between cliffs. Beyond this towered a solid peak. This was the Jug, the +fastness to which the Border bandits retreated in times of stress. Lafe +peered hard up the canon and halted to spy out surroundings. From behind +that opening, one determined man could hold off a regiment. + +"I swan," he ejaculated. + +A dead horse, saddled, lay near a fallen tree not twenty yards distant. +It was still bleeding from a wound in the neck. The trappings were old +and patched and repaired with rope, after the fashion of the natives. +This, then, accounted for one of the shots. The sheriff gazed, and +stepped hastily behind a post-oak. + +Something had risen from the ground about a hundred yards beyond. +Peeping round his shelter, he saw that it was another horse, whose +forequarters flopped helplessly as it strove to rise. Instantly he +recognized the markings of the "paint" on which Moffatt had fled. + +"Somebody has beaten me to him," he muttered; then sprang from behind +his tree with ready gun and yelled: "Hi!" + +Close to the far horse two men were struggling on the ground. As he +looked, one rolled uppermost and, wrenching a hand loose, struck with a +knife. A stifled cry came from the man underneath, and the sheriff ran +forward at top speed. + +A Mexican was straddling Moffatt, one hand about his throat. The outlaw +was vainly endeavoring to break the grip with his fingers. The knife was +raised for a second blow, when the native heard the crunch of the +sheriff's boot and turned his head. His expression of raging hate +changed to a look of such absolute amazement that it was almost +ludicrous. Next instant he released Moffatt and scurried away like a +cottontail, zigzagging among the trees as he headed for the Jug. It +would have been an easy matter to bring him down, and for the fraction +of a second Johnson was so inclined. Then: "Pshaw, I ain't looking for +him," he said, and hurried to Moffatt's side. + +"Hello," said Steve weakly, opening his eyes. + +"Are you hurt, Moffatt? Hurt bad?" + +"Pretty bad, I reckon," said the injured man. "He done got me here." + +He placed a hand over his right breast. There was a knife wound high up, +which was bleeding generously, but not enough to cause alarm. Johnson +unfastened the shirt and inspected the cut. It was deep, but the +Mexican's thrust had been diverted and had gone high, toward the +shoulder. Lafe did not think that the lung had been pierced or that +there was internal hemorrhage. He removed the bandage from his ankle, +found some water dripping from crevices in the cliff, bathed and bound +the wound. + +Said Moffatt: "Gee, I wish I had a drink." + +Johnson caught some in his hat, and cooled his face when he had drunk. +The outlaw seemed grateful. + +"You ain't got anything to eat, have you?" he inquired. + +"I reckon you're feeling better? What'd you like? A steak with onions?" + +Moffatt grinned, made a wry face and sat up painfully. + +"Where did that fool Mexican go to?" he asked. + +Lafe pointed to the Jug and opined that they would have to leave him +there. The Jug was too formidable for assault, unless they had urgent +need of him. + +"Pshaw!" exclaimed Moffatt. "He ain't there now. I'll bet he's sneaked +out the back way and is drifting right now. His gun went wrong, or it's +like he'd have got me. No, sir, ol' Jiminez has beat it while the going +was good, you can bet." + +"Jiminez?" the sheriff repeated. "Pablo Jiminez?" + +"His brother," answered Moffatt, and became sullen. + +Johnson said nothing more just then. All was now explained. The Mexican +had cut across country over unfrequented trails to intercept Moffatt at +the Jug, as soon as he had learned of the killing of his brother. They +had been companions on more than one ranch raid for horses, and he had +guessed where Moffatt would seek refuge. + +"Whose horse was shot first?" Lafe demanded, after an interval of +silence, during which he gathered wood for a fire. + +"Mine. Then I got his before he could shoot again. And when he done +fell, he smashed his ol' gun. That was sure some luck." + +"But why," Johnson said, much amazed, "why didn't you get him then? It +ought to have been easy." + +"No kattridges," said Moffatt briefly. + +Shortly afterwards, night coming on, he proposed that Lafe go ahead into +the Jug and make certain Jiminez was not there. If the place were empty, +they could find shelter therein for the night; likewise flour and bacon +and beans, and pots to cook them in. Save for weakness, part of which +was the result of hunger, the outlaw did not appear greatly distressed +from his wound, which had stopped bleeding. + +Accordingly the sheriff approached the oval opening, exercising nice +circumspection. It looked sufficiently peaceful. An acute, carefully +developed instinct for danger told Johnson that none lurked there. + +"Go on," Moffatt called after him. "He can't shoot, anyhow. No gun. +We'll take a chance." + +"_We_ will? This is me. Not you," answered Johnson. + +Then he cried in Mexican a friendly greeting, to be on the safe side in +the event of Jiminez being in hiding, and strode into the Jug. The +opening led into a high and deep cave. It was deserted. In front was a +shallow open space, and here were the ashes of fires and some empty +bottles and old cans. In a remote corner of the cave, under some dirty +sacks, were flour and bacon. + +"Come on," he said, returning. "Let's go. It'll be dark in a minute." + +Propping Moffatt with his shoulder, and an arm about his waist, Lafe +reentered the Jug. There they spent the night. + +Before the early coyotes had got into full swing in their morning songs, +they were astir and made what breakfast they could. The sheriff was +eager to be gone. Who could say at what moment a pair of desperadoes, +with prior claims on the Jug, might not ride up the trail? In that +event, he knew that Moffatt might be relied upon to act against him, and +Johnson was feeling in no humor for further combat. His prisoner's +shoulder was very stiff and caused him exquisite pain when he moved; +also, he had a slight fever; but these things are borne as visitations +of their profession by such men, and Moffatt never questioned the +sheriff's demand that they start at once. He pursed his lips and +whistled when the darting pains in his shoulder began, but went readily +enough. + +There was a slender ribbon of trail leading from the mouth of the Jug +around the mountain peak and down the other side into a wide draw. By +following it, said Moffatt, they could hit a road which ran south. + +"It's eleven miles to it, though, and--wow--what a country. Say, Lafe, +what're you going to do with me?" + +"You're coming to Badger," replied the sheriff. + +The outlaw gave him a sidelong look. "Oh, well," he said, "if you're set +on it, all right." + +When they had entered the draw after a terrible, sliding descent of the +back trail--during which Lafe often bore his prisoner's entire +weight--Moffatt spoke up again. + +"Got any bread?" said he. + +"You bet. Why?" + +"Well, there's a big ol' mule we turned out here. I done found him last +year down in Zacaton Bottom. He was like to of died, that mule. But I +fixed him up good and packed some bedding and chuck on him way up here. +He's sure been useful, too. You keep your eye skinned and if you see +him, just give him bread. Ridin's cheaper'n walkin'." + +"It sure is. Let's go--easy--that's it." + +The two had covered another mile of the draw, when, behind a tangle of +mesquite, sounded a snort of suspicion. + +"Good boy. Good ol' boy," said Johnson soothingly, advancing with the +bread extended. + +The mule jumped sidewise, hampered by a hobble. He sniffed and the +sheriff followed, with endearing words and blandishments. Would he never +stand still? It was a gaunt animal, with an especially large head. +Probably it smelled the delicacy so rarely enjoyed, because it came +blowing at Lafe's hand. Whilst it munched on the crust, Johnson removed +the hobble and tied the rope around its neck. Then, with a fervent +prayer that the evil latent in every mule might be appeased, he hoisted +Moffatt to his back and clambered up behind him. They headed out of the +draw. + +The sun was three hours high when they struck the road and paused at a +wallow to give their mount a sip of water. Outside the draw he had +obstinately refused to proceed faster than a walk and Lafe's sense of +security was not sufficient to dispute the pace with him. As he lifted +his massive head from drinking, a pair of mules shoved their noses above +a rise and a wagon came into view. A white man was driving. Johnson +waved his hat and shouted a frantic greeting. + +The stage was already descending and the driver could not stop it, +although he laid himself back on the reins in the attempt. The sheriff +regarded him in amazement. Was he gone crazy? When almost opposite, he +let out a whoop and, running out on the pole, cut at the team with his +whip. They went by at a gallop in a cloud of sand. Lafe caught a +fleeting glimpse of the driver's white face and wavering eyes. Then +their mount was seized of the devil; down went his head and he pitched +as only a mule can. Moffatt went off at the first jump; at the third, +Lafe scattered the waters of the wallow. + +The opposite ascent was of soft sand, and before they reached the top, +fatigue compelled the stage team to drop to a walk. The driver looked +back, apprehension showing even in the bend of his neck. The gray mule +had disappeared. Seeing Johnson on foot, helping Moffatt from the +ground, the man threw on the brake and the stage came to a halt. The +sheriff toiled painfully up the hill, holding the suffering outlaw +around the waist. + +"Here," said the driver in a dry voice. "Get in. Get in." + +Together they lifted Steve in. The driver released the brakes and +whipped his mules to a gallop. + +"I swan. I swan," he kept repeating. + +"Why the hell didn't you stop? Hey? What do you mean by running by that +way?" said the sheriff angrily. + +"Runnin' by? Runnin'--why, man alive," croaked the driver, "that doggone +ol' mule you rode used to pull this stage. And he's been daid over a +year." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE WEDDING + + +When in a discursive mood, Badger was wont to say, with the aggressive +local pride common to new communities, that the world had produced three +great men--Julius Caesar, Theodore Roosevelt and Lafe Johnson. They +accorded this ranking to Julius rather reluctantly, he having been a +"foreigner." Imagine, then, their feelings of helpless amazement when +they learned that Lafe was about to leave them. + +"You don't need no sheriff here now," said he. "Things have got so +peaceful that what you want is a dog-catcher and a pound-man. I ain't a +candidate for that job. Go ahead and elect a city marshal, and let him +do the chores when he ain't busy on anything else." + +He was obdurate in this resolution. To his intimates he confessed that +the hazards and journeyings of the office made it unfit for occupancy by +a married man. And, now that Moffatt was safely in jail and the country +cleared of its worst element, he proposed to become a married man. It +was Hetty who steeled him in this resolve, when the pleadings of his +friends and fellow-townsmen appeared to have him wavering. She had her +eyes fixed on Lafe's place beyond the Willows as on a haven of rest, and +the Widow Brown gathered from her conversation that Hetty's notion of a +respectable and happy citizen was a farmer with one hundred and sixty +acres and a flock of children. She mentioned this to Hetty, who grew +crimson and requested her to talk sense. + +So Lafe resigned as sheriff of Badger, and they presented him with a +large watch which ticked so loudly that he could not sleep with it under +his pillow; and several staid, responsible property holders got very +drunk indeed. + +The wedding was fixed for the day following that on which he laid down +the cares of office. He and Hetty were talking over final arrangements +on the eve. + +"I've got a surprise for you," said Lafe. + +"What is it?" + +"Ol' man Horne has bought the Anvil range. He's made me boss, too. A +hundred a month." + +Hetty exclaimed in delight as Johnson proudly exhibited a letter +received quite three weeks before, which he had been holding back in +order to cap his resignation. That made everything smooth and safe for +them. They would have their home in Hope Canon beyond the Willows, and +good fresh beef and butter and milk. Assuredly Lafe would himself become +a rich cowman some day. Hetty was sure of it. + +Their wedding-morn broke, sullen and muttering like a man heavy with +sleep. Badger kicked off the blankets, sat up to ascertain just what +head it had contracted, and asked hoarsely for an eye-opener. An +eye-opener is a drink of undiluted whisky, gulped down before breakfast. +Then it stepped out into the road, cocked an eye aloft and opined that +the weather looked bad for the sheriff's wedding. They will always call +him "sheriff" in Badger. + +Turner, the storekeeper, announced at a very early hour that it was mere +folly trying to work, and nobody need expect him to attend to business +that day or for several to come, perhaps. Thereupon he shut up shop and +carried a graphophone on to the front porch. It played "In the Shade of +the Old Apple Tree" eleven times, while the express agent's dog squatted +in the road, with its nose tilted back, and howled dismally. + +About noon, nine of the Anvil boys rode into town to grace the occasion. +They had on clean shirts, and their boots were greased and odorous. +Following them came Mr. and Mrs. Horne in a buckboard. The couple had +driven forty miles to do honor to the new range boss, and Mrs. Horne +lost no time in repairing to the Widow Brown's to assist in attiring the +bride. She found that young woman aggravatingly cool--almost placid. +Next there arrived the Floyds, with their son Tommy, now grown to +overalls and boastful talk. + +All the male population of Badger was gathered in the Fashion and in +the Cowboys' Rest across the street. Thither hastened Horne and Floyd to +hearten the sheriff, but they discovered only their own men and a crowd +of merry-makers. Escaping from them in good time, the two sought Turner, +who, as justice of the peace, was to perform the ceremony. The +storekeeper was found crouched behind some goods in the back portion of +his place. He was perspiring profusely. Some fiend in human form had +warned Bob not to mix the burial service with the marriage ceremony, as +he had done on another occasion best forgotten, and the justice of the +peace could not get the fearful idea out of his head. He was therefore +trying to commit as much as possible of the service to memory. + +"You're looking pretty slick, Bob. Where's Lafe?" asked Horne. + +"He's upstairs. I hid him out in that empty room where we keep the +stiffs," said Turner, hastily secreting the book. By "stiffs" he +referred to the custom of holding the bodies of gentlemen who met +violent deaths, until a coroner's jury pronounced on them. + +"That's a good place for him," said Floyd. + +They started upstairs. "Wait," cried Turner. "I'll take him his dinner." + +The trio found Lafe sitting on a stool. He had on a new suit and his +hair was plastered down over his forehead, but despite this brave show, +he was wretched, gazing miserably out of the window into the street, +where numbers of his friends were surging up and down and across. As +they entered, a cowboy topped an outlaw mule and the frenzied shrieks of +encouragement to the rider drew Horne and Floyd and Turner to look. Then +his employer obtained a close view of the sheriff's face. + +"You sick?" he demanded. + +"No-oo. Why?" + +"Then, man alive, brace up. You ain't going to be hung." + +Lafe smiled in ghastly fashion and essayed to eat of the steak and +vegetables which the justice had brought. It was a vain pretense. His +throat was dry and he could not swallow without straining. After +watching him a while, Horne suggested that they all take a drink. + +"I find a touch of rye helps me a heap when I'm poorly," said he. + +To this proposal nobody objected. + +"Got the ring?" said Horne. + +Again the sheriff gave a sickly grin and stuck his forefinger into a +waistcoat pocket. Instantly his face turned a pea-green shade. + +"Why," he exclaimed, "I done put it there not five--" He started going +through every pocket with shaking hands. + +"Jumpin' Jupiter!" said Turner. "You done give me that ring to keep for +you an hour ago, Lafe. He kept taking it out so often to look at it, I +was scared he'd wear it out, Horne." + +In any report of a wedding, it is proper to itemize the plunder. We will +therefore leave the bridegroom and his three tried friends to pass the +remaining hours playing "cold hands" with cards, whilst we take a peep +into the Widow Brown's abode. Hetty is dressing by the aid of Mrs. Horne +and Mrs. Floyd, and no peeping is permissible there. Out upon the +thought! Suffice that she wore that day certain fine linen and fluffy +creations, the like of which the ladies of Badger had never seen and of +whose existence in wardrobes the male residents had no suspicion. Mrs. +Horne was vastly gratified. + +The presents were laid out in the parlor--all but one. That one was +given by the express agent, and was hidden deep in the barn, but rest +assured that it will ultimately be taken to the house in Hope Canon. +Ever a facetious and far-sighted man, the express agent had sent a +go-cart. + +A piano lamp under a pink glass shade with green bead fringe centered +the display. The fact that it was made for gas--and they would be lucky, +indeed, always to have oil in the Canon--did not diminish its value in +Hetty's eyes at all. Moreover, there was not a piano in Badger. Somebody +had sent Lafe a silver-plated six-shooter; another, a chromo lithograph +of the prophet Elijah caught up in a chariot of fire. To Hetty had come +shawls and cruetstands, coffee pots and tidies and chair scarfs; also, +plated cake dishes, cutlery and rugs. An erstwhile admirer from the Lazy +L, who had partaken of many meals at the Fashion on her account, sent a +milch cow, and for Lafe came a black saddler from Floyd. This was the +horse that had carried the Lazy L boss across a swollen river on a +certain occasion in which Johnson had figured, and he had often admired +the beast. A very serviceable gift was that from Horne--a check for +fifty dollars. + +"Wilt thou have this woman to--" + +They were standing side by side in the parlor of the Widow Brown's, +under a wedding-bell made of cedar boughs, which was suspended from the +ceiling by a wire. All Lafe's nervousness was gone. His face was stern, +but there was a peaceful light in the eyes that was good to see. +Evidently Mrs. Horne thought so, for she and the Widow Brown cried +softly and without ceasing. The bride was rather pale, but entirely +composed. Only Turner and Horne fidgeted, the latter because his collar +chafed him. Turner skimmed over the words and paused twice to whisper in +an aside that he hoped to the Lord Lafe hadn't forgotten the ring. + +"Wilt thou have this woman to--" + +There was an inward surge, then a break in the ranks of the guests +grouped behind the pair and at the door, and Turner paused with his hand +raised. + +"Hold on there! Hold on," cried a falsetto voice. + +An enormously fat woman lurched through the company and confronted the +groom. A felt hat with a red plume wagged rakishly on top of her head. +She had on a blue calico skirt, and her feet were large and bulbous. +They could not discern her features because of a veil. + +"What's this?" said she in a high-pitched voice. "What's this, Lafe +Johnson?" + +"Ma'am?" said the sheriff. + +"What does this mean? Who is this lady?" + +"I don't take you, ma'am. This lady and me, we're just fixing to get +married. What's the matter?" + +"Matter? Matter?" shrieked the intruder. "You do fine to ask, don't you, +Lafe Johnson? What about me that you left in Abilene, back in Texas? +Hey? How about li'l' Charlie and James, that's the dead image of you? +He's been a-cryin' for you, Lafe. Just after he got over the +measles--oh, you wretch!" + +"Abilene?" repeated the sheriff dully. "Abilene? Charlie and James? Why, +I was never in Abilene longer than half an hour in my life, ma'am. You +can see for yourself--" + +Hetty, who had shrunk back with a startled air at the entrance of the +fat woman, now moved suddenly and pulled up the veil, disclosing the +round, shining visage of the Anvil cook. + +"Why!" said Horne. "If it ain't old Dave!" + +Instead of throwing him into the street or into jail, as he deserved, +the company permitted Dave to retire with honor to the outer circle, +where he divested himself of skirt, waist and plumed hat, and was heard +to entreat one of the boys to help loosen the belt with which he had +painfully compressed his figure for the event. They could hear him +squeal, pretending to be tickled. All agreed that his portrayal of +feminine behavior was a marvel of similitude. + +Neither Lafe nor the bride took the interruption in ill part. The +justice of the peace only appeared chagrined--Turner was in an agony of +fear lest he lose his place--but even he managed to join in the laugh. +The two faced him again. Three minutes later they were man and wife. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE BRIDE IS LOST + + +For reasons of economy there was to be no wedding trip, except the drive +to their home in the Canon. Later, perhaps, they would journey to some +railroad town to shop, and--come a good year--Lafe would take her to a +Middle West city--"to the East," they called it in Badger. + +A buckboard was in waiting, a pair of spirited young bays straining +against the men who held them. Sheltering Hetty with his body from a +shower of rice and old shoes, the sheriff and his bride sped down the +path from the Widow Brown's. He lifted her into the buckboard and picked +up the reins. Then a cloud of dust swept down on them, and out of the +cloud came a rattle of hoofs. A rope sped, and the sheriff was jerked +off the seat. + +"Help, Horne!" he cried. "They've got me." + +The treacherous Horne gave succor by grinning while the cowboys bound +the groom. Hetty had disappeared, whisked away in the turmoil. A man was +driving the buckboard toward the company's corrals, but of the bride +there was not a trace. Stealing her from her lord's arms is one of the +merriest jests we have. + +"Well," said Lafe good-naturedly, "I reckon it's one on me. Turn me +loose. I buy." + +An hour went by, and he endeavored to escape from his friends that he +might rejoin his wife. They would not hear of it. When Lafe insisted and +left despite them, he was unable to find Hetty. For another hour he kept +patient, dawdling in Turner's place and giving as good as he got in the +way of badinage. Everybody in town seized the opportunity to rally him +while he waited. The sheriff sat on the counter, kicking his heels +against the boards, and never once lost countenance. + +About five o'clock Mrs. Horne ran in hot haste to her husband. + +"Hetty," she panted, "where is she?" + +"How should I know?" said Horne. "You had her last. Didn't you and Mrs. +Brown hide her out?" + +"We locked her in Mrs. Turner's house. She's gone. She isn't there. Oh, +what shall I do? She's gone." + +"Pshaw!" the cowman said. "She's all right. She's just given you the +slip to go find Lafe." + +Still wringing her hands, Mrs. Horne returned to her ally, the Widow, +and they hunted the house and Mrs. Turner's house all over again. Hetty +was not to be found. + +"Boys, a joke's a joke and I can take mine with the rest," said +Lafe--in proof whereof he gave vent to a hollow "ha, ha"--"but this has +gone further. I want my wife. I want Hetty. Where is she?" + +It was the supper hour and they were collected at the Fashion, and still +no sign of the bride. Even Horne began to look anxious. His wife and the +Widow melted into tears, bitterly bewailing their share in this +unfortunate practical joking. Lafe indulged in no reproaches when the +situation was explained to him, but started on a systematic raking of +Badger. Search parties were instantly formed and not a corner of the +town was overlooked. + +One of the Lazy L outfit--he who had given the milch cow--became a +trifle too acrimonious in his denunciation of the manner in which the +Anvil men had behaved. They had stepped beyond the bounds of gentlemanly +comportment, he contended. There were high words, but the men separated. +Later they met again in the Cowboys' Rest and a shooting was imminent. A +boy summoned the sheriff. + +"Don't, boys," said Lafe, entering hastily. "Put up the gun, Dave. No +shooting now. Be good boys. If anything happened--if anybody got +hurt--Hetty, it'd break her all up." + +The combatants reluctantly surrendered their weapons and as reluctantly +shook hands. Each was hurriedly impressed into a search party and they +were led in opposite directions. + +Night found the citizens of Badger beating the bushes and peering into +fence corners and yelling Hetty's name. Despairing of finding her in +town, the sheriff and Horne made a circuit of the place. It had to be +done slowly, as the ground was rough and one was apt to fall over mounds +of tin cans and other debris. + +They were about a quarter of a mile beyond Badger's limits, when Lafe +halted suddenly. + +"She's somewhere near," said he. + +"Why, how do you figure it? I can't see my hand in front of my face." + +"Figure it?" said the sheriff, who was trembling. "Man, I can feel it." + +He cupped his hands and shouted--"Hetty! Oh--Hetty!" + +"Here I am," said a drowsy voice. "Is that you, Lafe? Gracious, what's +happened? It's dark." + +There was the bride, sitting beside a mesquite bush and rubbing her +eyes. They ran to her. She got up and limped a few steps. + +"My foot's gone to sleep," she exclaimed. + +With Lafe holding her on one side and Horne pacing austerely on the +other, she walked into town. Why had she run away? She had run away from +Mrs. Horne and the Widow because she perceived what they planned to do. +For an hour or two she waited for Lafe outside the town and then grew +very sleepy. So she lay down beside the bush. + +"I knew you would find me," said she. + +Horne began to whistle, not caring to hear the sheriff's assurance that +he would find her at the ends of the world--wherever those be. + +"What time is it? Lafe, dear, I'm so hungry. I feel like a steak," said +Hetty. + +While she was partaking of this with a very unbridelike appetite, and +Lafe was doing his best opposite her, a messenger brought the sheriff an +envelope. It was unaddressed, but there was a note inside-- + + Here's wishing you'll be happy. Adios. I won't bother you till + after the honeymoon. + + STEVE. + +While he was puzzling over it, Hetty asked what was the matter. He +passed her the paper. + +"Wrote it in jail, I reckon," he said. + +"Oh, Lafe," said Turner, sticking his head inside the door, "here's a +telegram for you." + +It was from the county seat. + + Steve Moffatt broke jail here yesterday. Gone over the Border. + +This, also, Lafe handed to his wife. + +"Doggone his fat head," he said. "Why couldn't he wait? Let somebody +else catch him. My successor can do that." + +"Of course," she answered, sighing happily. "You'll never be bothered +with him again." + +"Never no more," said the sheriff, not knowing what the years would +bring. + +Although it was ten o'clock when they finished their meal, both insisted +on setting out for their new home in Hope Canon. + +"Don't go to-night. You can stay with me," said the Widow Brown. +"There's lots of room. Or wait--I'll move out. You'll be more +comfortable all alone." + +"No, thank you, ma'am," answered the sheriff. "I know the trail like I +do the path from your front gate. We'll be there in two hours." + +So they set out through the languorous dark. Lafe drove easily with one +hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +JOHNSON BECOMES BOSS OF THE ANVIL + + +The Johnsons went to live at Lafe's place beyond the Willows, in Hope +Canon. And there they occupied a frame house on the crest of a knoll. It +was an ideal locality for a bridal couple, privacy being its most +pronounced feature. For nobody else lived in the Canon and their nearest +neighbors were the citizens of Badger, fourteen miles distant, beyond a +swelling valley and a fringe of hills. + +Hetty was so busy making habitable the three bare rooms of the home, +that the days were as minutes to her and the weeks took wings. It was +absolutely amazing what she achieved with two tables, a packing case, +six chairs, a bureau and some mats and window curtains--all these +freighted from Badger in a wagon. No room of the three gave the +appearance of having been slighted. In lieu of pictures, she contrived +to bestow brightness to the walls by tacking up covers from magazines, +and solid comfort was afforded by bunks built in corners of two of the +rooms. They were draped with Navajo blankets and Hetty had constructed +them herself of substantial oak, Lafe being an indifferent carpenter and +immensely impatient of it. After the manner of his kind he hated any +task that could not be done on horseback. That Hetty had a taste for +show cannot be denied, because the bed in her room was hung with +mosquito netting in the shape of a canopy, and there was a wondrous blue +coverlet. Indeed, it was fit for a royal couch. + +To a bachelor of long standing, adjustment to married life brings with +it certain brain shocks and sudden vistas. It is constantly unfolding +surprises that burst on his vision as wonders. So many shifts of their +household arrangements struck Lafe as unique that he could not forbear +mention of them to his friends in Badger--with the air of a discoverer, +confident that nothing like this had ever been done or attempted before +in history. Whereupon they would emit merry jeers and the older men +would assure him that he would soon be harness-broken. + +But the greatest change was in his outlook on life, in the new +perspective and the new responsibilities that the married state opened +to him. A year before, the sheriff would have chafed at any restraint +which prohibited enjoyment with his friends after the fashion of the +country. Now, he willingly abandoned all his former boon companions whom +he chanced to meet, and did not do it with a sense of righteousness for +having lived up to his duty, but cheerfully, gladly, because their +companionship seemed now stale and flat and purposeless. And he was +always anxious to get home. + +"Don't you lose none of them parcels, sheriff," they would chaff, +standing on the sidewalk to watch Johnson tie his purchases to the +saddle. + +"Has she done begun to cut your hair yet, Lafe?" another inquired. + +Johnson would grin comfortably, and with an "Adios, you fellers," ride +off towards Hope Canon. Invariably he brought a present for Hetty. +Everything pretty that he saw struck him as a possible gift for her, so +that their home waxed in comfort. + +In his blighted days of singleness, Lafe had often taken hearty +amusement out of the simple fact that some among his married friends +were obliged to rise at unearthly hours in order to light fires and do +household chores which he considered to be within the feminine province. +On the first mornings of their residence in the new home, he performed +these tasks as a loving attention. Of course, ever after he had to do +them as a duty. Once a man does a thing, he establishes a precedent +which a conscientious individual finds it hard to break--but, bless you, +Lafe would never have permitted Hetty to do jobs of this sort, that were +within his own powers of performance. So he helped cheerily as +dishwasher and assistant housemaid, this gunfighting sheriff of Badger. + +Yet Lafe did not emerge wholly scatheless from the ill customs of a +lifetime. On a day, old man Horne sent him to Badger in company of a +cattle buyer, with whom Horne was making a deal that ran into hundreds +of thousands of dollars. And his orders were that Johnson was to get the +buyer drunk and keep him in that enviable condition as long as he could. +This is considered legitimate in the cow country and "good business." + +Lafe did so. And in the course of his enthusiastic labors, he took on a +cargo which he found some difficulty in storing. The night of his +return, Johnson, as he rode up Hope Canon, sang a ditty which were best +forgotten by a respectable married man. + +The house was in darkness, and when he would have entered their bedroom, +he found the door locked. + +"This ain't no time to get mad," Lafe said warily, winking into the +dark, and went to sleep on one of the bunks. + +Next morning his appetite for breakfast was far below normal, but he +kept Hetty busy boiling coffee. + +"What was the trouble last night?" he had the brazenness to ask. + +"I knew there was something the matter when I saw that note you sent +from town by the boy," said Hetty, "and I didn't want to see you. What I +don't know won't hurt me much, I reckon." + +Lafe was feeling very shaky, and looked up at her from his plate with +marked shamefacedness. + +"It won't never happen again," he promised, and Hetty came around behind +his chair and put her arms about his neck. + +"You've been a pretty good boy," she whispered, "but, oh, Lafe, I just +couldn't bear to see you. That's why I locked the door." + +Johnson took to his cow work with much zest. The Anvil range was a huge +domain, a kingdom in itself. The bawling of Horne's calves sounded from +the 108th to the 111th meridian of longitude and the Anvil steers grazed +a thousand hills. Much of this land was free range, the property of the +American people; but Horne controlled it by owning all the water-holes, +and defended his rights by the iron hand. In addition to the free grass, +he had some hundreds of thousands of acres under fence, which was his by +purchase of Spanish grants--a portion of it on the other side of the +Border. + +To be boss of the Anvil, then, meant something. Directly and indirectly, +Lafe had two hundred men under him. Fifty of these were cowboys; the +others were employed as windmill hands, as farmers to grow feed for the +cattle in winter, and as laborers to put up new fences, corrals and +division camps, for Horne was laying out the range on his own lines. + +Johnson chose his outfit with considerable shrewdness. He was a keen +judge of men and knew cattle from horn to hoof and beyond to the stock +yards. Therefore the Anvil riders were famed in the land as expert +cowmen. Ability to ride or dexterity with the rope did not win a cowboy +a place with the Anvil. He took those who best understood the science of +the range. Most of them were Texans, and men of mature years. + +"The northern boys make better busters," he told Horne. "Take 'em all in +all and they can beat our boys riding. But they don't know cattle like +these longhorn Texans do. No, sir; it takes our southern boys to know +how to handle cattle." + +Thus did Lafe make a propitious start and win respect. And the months +went by, and the two in Hope Canon were ridiculously happy. + +Unruffled happiness cannot endure for long. Perhaps it would pall if it +did. A thing, to be deemed precious, must have contrasts to establish +its value. So there entered into the wedded life of the Johnsons its +first severe jar. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +ENTERS TROUBLE + + +"You'll know her because she has yellow hair and gray, gray eyes and her +clothes fit," said Mrs. Horne. "Besides, nobody else will get off." + +"How'll we know they fit her?" Lafe asked. "Suppose they shouldn't +happen to fit her right snug, ma'am, we'll leave her at The Tanks?" + +"She'll be on the last car," said Mrs. Horn "Remember--yellow hair and +gray eyes. Judith walks like this." + +With these directions, Mrs. Horn sent Johnson to The Tanks to meet the +Burro express. It was called that by the sparse population of the region +in a spirit of levity: a burro will pause to graze on the least excuse +and takes joy in lying down with his pack. + +It was twenty-seven miles from the ranch to The Tanks, and Manuel would +follow with a buckboard and mule team, since it was manifestly absurd to +expect Mrs. Vining to make the journey horseback. Lafe was much elated +to be chosen for this mission and invited me to accompany him. + +"Miz Horne," said he, "wouldn't send a greenhorn. No, sir; she wants +somebody who'll look like something in decent company. Say, if I get any +stronger with ol' Horne, he'd ought to raise me. Don't you reckon?" + +Cheered by the prospect, he began a monologue to his horse, a habit Mr. +Johnson had acquired in lonely places. "Doggone your fat head, why can't +you lift your feet? Hey? Hold still, can't you, till I light this +cigarette? Oh, you needn't look back. You know I'm here all right." + +In early afternoon we crossed a canon on the far side of The Hatter and +turned to the left along a mesa. Lafe puckered his eyes, squinted +carefully and said: "Well, I swan. Do you see that?" + +A man was sitting on the skull of a horse and he was counting the tops +of the hills. It struck me as a profitless form of endeavor. As we +neared him: "No," he remarked, "that's not right. I made it two thousand +and three before." + +"Off in your tally, pardner?" Lafe inquired civilly. + +He proceeded, unheeding, with his simple addition. "One thousand and +seventy-six, and those five little fellows make--what do they make, +now?" He broke off to scratch his head in vexation. He looked at Johnson +briefly and then stared at me. + +"That fellow there," he said, with a nod at Lafe, "that fellow's crazy. +Everybody's crazy out here--all but me." + +He was not an old man, but his hair was grizzled and fell in dirty +disorder to his shoulders. We could see portions of him through his +clothes, and a sleeve of his shirt was not. Yet I began to marvel, for +he spoke with the accent of culture. + +"There used to be three thousand four hundred and eight scrub-cedars on +that big mountain yonder," he confided to me. "I've lost count a bit +lately, though. What do you make 'em?" + +"You're short six. Four hundred and fourteen--not four hundred and +eight." + +He thanked me and considered this for some minutes. "Perhaps you're +right," he said. "Sometimes when these old rocks take to hopping up and +down, it keeps a man on the move not to lose track of 'em." + +"It must be right hard doing that 'rithmetic all day long?" Johnson +ventured. + +"Oh, yes. I get hungry frequently. Have you boys got anything to eat? +Well, if you haven't, you'd best be on your way." + +Complying with the suggestion, Lafe turned his horse. "It's that ol' +prospector who lives up on the shoulder of The Hatter," he told me. + +It did not seem right to leave him thus. The man was deranged and unfit +to be at large. But when I proposed that he accompany us to The Tanks, +our acquaintance returned a vehement refusal. We could not fool him, he +said. The last man who gave him a ride had tried to put him on board a +train, and he had been compelled to knock the fellow on the head with a +stick of wood. So we left him sitting on the skull, counting the tops of +the hills. He mentioned carelessly that he would probably see us again. + +There was no mistaking the lady we had come to escort. + +"There she is. Wouldn't she knock you cold?" Lafe whispered. + +Her hair was yellow, and she gave the impression of having been melted +and poured into her pink muslin. Assuredly she was not of our world, and +most certainly her clothes fitted. The conductor, a large individual of +red hair and an aloof expression, closed his left eye slowly at Lafe and +stepped aboard. The Burro express crawled away up the valley and we set +out for the ranch, Johnson riding close to the buckboard, the better to +converse with Mrs. Vining. + +She began to question about the country and cow work. Everything was +"astonishing" or "delightful, really," of course; and no matter what she +said, there was injected into her speech an indefinable note that seemed +to place the listener on a confidential footing, to the exclusion of all +others. Some women have this faculty. The two ignored me utterly. I +coughed once or twice as a faint reminder to Lafe that he was a newly +married man and that I was prepared to do the civil thing myself, but he +took no notice. + +We had forgotten all about our friend of the mathematical propensities, +when he appeared suddenly beside the trail. + +"Hello," he cried, "back already?" + +Mrs. Vining regarded the unkempt figure with composure. + +"Why don't we drive on?" she said. "Drive on, please." + +"Who's that? Who's that, I say?" The prospector advanced on the +buckboard at a shambling trot. + +"Please, please drive on," Mrs. Vining entreated faintly. + +Instead of obeying, the Mexican waited. The prospector came to the wheel +of the buckboard and peered hard at Mrs. Vining. She met his gaze in a +sort of horrified fascination for a moment and then turned completely +about in her seat, so that her shoulders were to him. Before we could +intervene, he seized her by the arm and commenced to drag her out. He +was mumbling as he did so. + +"No, I won't go," she screamed. "It wasn't my fault. I won't go. Help! +Help me!" + +Lafe spurred almost on top of the fellow and cut at him with a quirt. He +released his hold and dodged, and Mrs. Vining sank back into the +buckboard. + +"Hi, you--drive on," Johnson commanded. + +He made no attempt to chastise the prospector. A demented man is not +responsible and is protected of God. Such is the creed of primitive +peoples and to it Lafe held strongly. Manuel whipped the mules and we +went by the mountain prowler amid a shower of sand and pebbles. He +remained in the trail, staring after us. He shouted something and +whirled his arms at a great rate, but when Lafe cantered back, he +scurried off among the mesquite like a scared rabbit. + +"What an extraordinary person," said Mrs. Vining, when Johnson overtook +us. Her lips were open in a fixed smile and her skin faded yellow under +its powder. + +"He's harmless, ma'am," Lafe assured her. "Don't you be scared. He's +just a bit locoed. We'll go fetch him to-morrow or next day, if you say +so." + +"No, no," she begged. "Leave the poor creature alone." + +I could see her hands tremble in her lap. She seemed distrait all the +way home and as soon as Mrs. Horne had done embracing her, she retired. +Next morning, however, she was sitting on the porch and called Lafe to +her side. They talked there for an hour or two and we could hear +Johnson's soft bass laugh. When he joined me in the corrals to catch the +horses, he was looking very pleased with himself. + +Mrs. Vining spent the next three days in minute probing of range life. +At least, that is what Lafe told me she found to talk to him about. +Apparently Mrs. Horne had little sympathy for this seeking after +knowledge, for she laughed a trifle impatiently and remarked to me that +men were idiots the world over and it was none of her business. + +She made it her business on the third day. + +"Why don't you leave Lafe alone?" she demanded. + +"Why, my dear Martha, I'm not running after Mr. Johnson." + +"Well, then, what do you find to talk about all the time? It's shameful, +Judy." + +"There you go again. One can't be civil to any sort of a man, but that +Puritanical conscience of yours--" + +"Oh, darn," said Mrs. Horne. + +We were treated on succeeding days to the spectacle of Lafe hovering +about Mrs. Vining like a fly above molasses paper--he knows he ought not +to be there at all, but cannot keep away. I am persuaded that a third +party could have heard all they said without embarrassment; but still, +there was Hetty. And it interfered with his work, just when he was new +to it and should have applied himself whole-heartedly. The entire +superintendence of the Anvil range fell to him, but Lafe now gave up +long trips. When he did go out, Mrs. Vining went with him on the pretext +of familiarizing herself with the country. Lafe began to assume a hint +of bravado in his bearing and was evidently flattered that he could +attract a woman of Mrs. Vining's world. + +"Judith," said Mrs. Horne, "if you don't let up on Lafe Johnson, I'll +tell his wife, or get Bob to give him his time." + +"His time? What's that?" she asked in amaze. She had just got out of bed +and was brushing her yellow hair. They could hear Johnson whistling +"Turkey in the Straw" as he went past the house. + +"Fire him." Her friend faced Mrs. Vining squarely. She was intensely +angry. "What do you mean by taking him out on the porch as you did last +night?" + +"Martha, how dare you say such a thing? You're horribly rude and--and +unkind. Why, I never thought--" + +"Of course you didn't," Mrs. Horne went on in a level voice. "You never +do. And you're going to tell me all that nonsense? Remember, I'm a +woman, Judy, and the woman was never born who wouldn't lie about some +things." + +"We're nothing but the most casual friends," said Mrs. Vining warmly. + +Mrs. Horne stopped her with a gesture of passionate impatience. "Who +said you were anything else? Will nothing sober you? I would have +thought that Harry--" + +"You're cruel, Martha. Yes, you are. Will you leave me alone to dress?" + +"Oh, darn!" Mrs. Horne exclaimed. + +From that interview she came straight to me. A party of friends was +coming from the mining town for a few days, she said, and I was to meet +them at The Tanks. Among them would be Mr. Mortimer Peck, a bachelor who +managed a large copper mine. Also, on my way over, I could go around by +Hope Canon and leave a letter for Mrs. Johnson. Perhaps I grinned. At +any rate, Mrs. Horne said: "Now, don't try to be clever, but keep your +thoughts to yourself." + +To my everlasting credit, be it said, I did not read that letter, +although it was unsealed. Whatever was in it, Hetty seemed dumbfounded. +For a moment I feared she would faint. She was not that sort, however. +Before I left she was bristling with energy and told me that she would +be at the ranch on my return. There was a red spot in each cheek and the +light of battle in her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +A CLEVER WOMAN AND A MISUNDERSTANDING + + +I met the train at The Tanks and drove the party to the ranch. There +were Mr. and Mrs. Prouty, a colorless pair, and the young man Peck +aforementioned. I think Prouty had once been Horne's financial backer. +When we arrived at headquarters, everybody was on the steps to welcome +them, with the big hospitality of cowland. Hetty was there, too, more +radiant than I had ever seen her. + +It is true that her dress suffered considerably by comparison with Mrs. +Vining's, but she had advantages which that expert lady would have given +all her aids to possess. Young Peck looked in Hetty's direction just +once, and gravitated there as by natural laws. He had met many women +like Mrs. Vining. She tried all her wiles on him and he responded gaily, +with a poise equal to her own, and then went on about his business. This +business appeared to concern Hetty. + +Shame on the graceless woman!--she had not been married five months and +here she was giving open encouragement to a man who had seen too many +sides of life for anybody's good. Yet Mrs. Horne did not chide her. +Indeed, she watched the progress of events with undisguised pleasure. + +The same cannot be said for Lafe. First he seemed at a loss, then dazed. +After that he sulked. It was noticeable that he was absentminded now +when Mrs. Vining cooed to him, and appeared to give ear more to what +Hetty was saying to the mining man at the other side of the room. Peck's +manner was joyous and eager. There was much merriment in their corner. + +The boss was very gloomy as he helped me at the stables that night. It +would appear that Mrs. Horne planned a ride to the Wolf place on the +morrow and he grumbled that he supposed it would be just his luck to +draw Mrs. Vining for the entire day. It was not for me to remind him he +had seemed sufficiently satisfied with this arrangement on other +occasions. + +By dint of maneuvering her horse next morning, Mrs. Vining enticed Peck +to her assistance. However, on perceiving that Hetty was riding off with +me, Mr. Peck utilized his privileges of guest to call out to Lafe: "I +say, Johnson, you know more about these things than I do? Will you fix +this girth for Mrs. Vining?" Upon which he loped away after Hetty. + +Throughout that ride I kept far ahead of the procession, driving a +pack-mule that carried our provisions. The brute was stubborn and gave +trouble, persisting in efforts to scrape off its burden under every +tree; but they were troubles more easily handled than those I suspected +Mr. Johnson to have laid up for himself. + +The Wolf place is a heavenly retreat in a brown, stern land. The day was +warm, and old man Horne, who thought a good deal of his comfort, +proposed that we wait until sundown before starting for home. Everybody +was agreeable except, perhaps, Lafe, and he said nothing. He spent the +entire afternoon in wake of Mrs. Vining--such a very evident victim, +though, that she gave up in disgust and went to sit beside Mrs. Horne +and the Proutys. Lafe affected not to watch Hetty and Peck, who were +gathering wild flowers and behaving like two children released from +school. + +It was dark when we went home. As before, I was assigned to the mule. +Next came old man Horne and Mrs. Prouty, his wife and Mr. Prouty; then +Mrs. Vining and Lafe; and last--very far behind--rode the mining +engineer and Hetty. We had gone about five miles when Lafe mumbled some +excuse to Mrs. Vining and went back. + +It happened that Peck had just reached out to take a flower from Hetty's +hand. They had been tossing them about all evening. I grant you there +was no occasion for this move, but these are the facts. Let us assume +that Hetty never divined his purpose. He seized her wrist and was +drawing her towards him when Lafe arrived. Hetty jerked free. Peck +laughed. + +"Go ahead with Miz Horne," Lafe ordered. It was the primal man speaking +to the woman who belonged to him. "You wait here, Peck. We'll settle +this thing right now." + +"Don't be an ass--" + +"Lafe!" Hetty protested. She was flurried and much frightened, for never +before had she seen him really angry. She brought her horse against his, +so that they could see each other plainly. There must have been signs of +weakening in him, for she suddenly flicked her reins upon his riding +boot and said: "Perhaps this'll teach you." + +"Teach me what?" asked Lafe uncertainly. + +"Never mind. You ask Mrs. Horne. She'll tell you all about it." + +Peck had drawn near. He entertained fears for Mrs. Johnson, but none for +himself. When he heard this, he laughed. He was disappointed, but he had +seen a lot of the world. + +"So that's it," said Peck. "You little rascal." + +He pinched Hetty lightly on the cheek, but Lafe did not object. Instead, +he looked rather sheepish and drew alongside his wife in proper +humility. At a word from her they galloped to the front, passed the +others of the party, and took charge of the pack-animal. Peck lighted a +cigar and joined Prouty. He was smiling and seemed not at all put out. + +I fell back to ride with old man Horne. Hetty and Lafe were far in the +lead, going at a long lope and beating the mule joyously with a rope-end +when it lagged in its pace. She threw a flower at him and he caught it +and stuck it inside the bosom of his shirt. + +Old man Horne departed at dawn on some cow business, and when his wife +went to bed that night, she left injunctions that she was on no account +to be disturbed before eleven in the morning. Yet at midnight she was +wakened by a knock at her door. + +"Wha-what--who's there?" she cried. + +Mrs. Vining padded into the room in her bare feet and crawled into bed +beside her friend, snuggling against her shoulder. It was black in the +room and the older woman winked solemnly at the wall. She waited with +patience for the other to speak her mind. + +"I couldn't sleep," said Mrs. Vining. + +"I could." + +"Martha, I've been so catty." + +"Yes, you have," said Mrs. Horne stoutly. + +"Well, you needn't tell me like that. I'm sure there was nothing to make +all this--" + +"Don't let's go over all that again, Judy. Why did you do it? That's +what I want to know. The whole thing was ridiculous." + +"Because I did--that's why. And one has to have _some_ amusement out +here." + +"Well! that _is_ nice." + +"You know I didn't mean it that way, Martha." + +There was silence, so long that Mrs. Horne thought her friend must be +sleeping. Gradually she became aware that she was crying. + +"Judy, what's the matter, dear?" She drew the younger woman closer and +patted her in motherly fashion. + +"No-nothing. She's--she's so pretty and I'm getting--getting old. +Martha, it's lonely. I can't stand it. I'm only thirty-four and all +alone. I'm afraid to look ahead. Think of all the dreadful years. You +can't blame me for--sometimes I think I'll--" + +Mrs. Horne comforted her as she would have comforted a daughter. She was +thinking intently as she soothed. Presently she asked: "Judy, have you +ever heard from Harry?" + +"Never." + +"Don't you know where he is?" + +She felt Mrs. Vining's body stiffen. + +"No--that is--no, I'm not sure. I don't know." + +Mrs. Horne cleared her throat and offered the sort of consolation we are +apt to accord our friends. + +"You know, Judy, dear, what everybody said when Harry left. Of course, I +knew it was all his own fault and his drinking. I never did believe what +people said--" + +"No, of course you didn't," said Mrs. Vining, with a trace of +bitterness. + +They fell silent again. At last Mrs. Vining moved. + +"She's so sweet," she murmured. Shortly afterwards she kissed Mrs. Horne +and rose to go to her own room. + +"Stay here, Judy. You won't bother me." + +"No, but you'll bother me. You snore dreadfully." + +"Judy, that's a lie," Mrs. Horne cried after her. + +By Hetty's orders, Lafe accompanied us to The Tanks when Mrs. Vining +departed. A truly womanly stab, this, in victory. And the Burro express +bore Mrs. Vining away, the conductor winking at Lafe from the platform +of the last car, his countenance sad and composed. We watched him take +his cap off in order to mop his brow and Mrs. Vining waved her glove at +us. Then we turned our horses about. Mrs. Horne shed a few tears and +instructed Manuel to whip the team, lest she be late home for supper. + +The Burro express crawled away up the valley. At a point six miles from +The Tanks, an unkempt man with matted hair flung a stone through the +window of the last car. Later I came on him on a mesa and he was +counting the tops of the hills. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +RECONCILIATION--MRS. VINING EXPERIENCES A CHANGE OF HEART + + +We were to see more of our mathematician who haunted The Hatter. + +On a day, the rider who brought our mail twice weekly, delivered a fat +letter to Mrs. Horne. She read it with open mouth and called her husband +into consultation behind closed doors. Shortly afterwards they summoned +Lafe, and in about an hour, he sent for me. + +"I've got to go fetch that locoed prospector," he confided. "Will you +help?" + +"Why not get some of the boys to round him up?" I objected, for the mail +had brought some personal business that required thought. + +"They might be rough with him. No, sir; we've got to bring him in +gentle, Dan. It's the queerest story I ever done heard. Say, don't women +do queer things? I swan, I can't figure 'em." + +All of the afternoon and next morning we rode the slopes of The Hatter. +Then suddenly we saw him. The prospector was catching grasshoppers. He +made to run as we approached, but Lafe spurred his horse and headed him +off. Seeing escape barred, he stood still and waited, not without +dignity--if a man who is clutching a fist-full of grasshoppers can +possess dignity. + +"What do you want?" he demanded. + +"Say, you speak French, don't you?" + +"I can speak five languages, sir," said the prospector pompously. And he +began to patter German. + +"Well," Lafe resumed--and I could see he was impressed--"well, sir, +there's a guy at the ranch who can't speak English very good. We want +somebody to tell him what the ol' man wants--ol' Horne of the Anvil. If +you'll come down--" + +"I shall be very pleased." + +"Good," Johnson said in surprise. "We've got some right good liquor +there and I thought--" + +The prospector laughed and looked at him cunningly. He would not mount +behind either of us, being suspicious even of the offer, but trudged +between, occasionally breaking into rambling discourses on natural +history and associated topics--such as the edible qualities of +grasshoppers, if properly stewed. It took us five hours to reach the +ranch, and our guest was then so tired that he readily acceded to the +suggestion that we eat and sleep before meeting the gentleman who spoke +only French. + +Next morning, by dint of impressing on him the importance of the +transaction and the high social status of the man he was to converse +with, Lafe persuaded the prospector to bathe and don new clothes. They +belonged to Horne and sagged all over his emaciated body, but he seemed +rather proud of his appearance. Also, once started, he consented to let +Dave, the cook, cut his hair and beard. + +At noon I was on the porch when a buckboard drove up, and a man and a +woman got out. The woman was heavily veiled. Both were hurried inside by +Mrs. Horne and I was sent down to the bunkhouse to carry word to Lafe +and his captive. + +"That feller who just come in is a specialist," Lafe whispered on the +way to the house. "They come off the Burro express this morning." + +The prospector was ushered into Horne's office, a bare room facing the +corrals. There a well-groomed man of affable manners met us and +courteously addressed him in French. They talked for a moment. The +prospector never let his gaze wander from the other's face. + +"I say," he broke out abruptly in English, "isn't your name Toole?" + +"It is." + +"Harvard '87?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"That was my class." + +The other affected to search his memory. He wrinkled his brow and pursed +up his mouth. + +"I remember you now perfectly. You're Vining." + +They shook hands. Then Vining drew back as though assailed by a +suspicion, and his glance flickered from one to the other of us like +that of an animal at bay. + +"They said you couldn't speak--what does this mean, anyway? You're +trying--" + +"Steady, old man," said the doctor. + +The door to the sitting-room off the office opened, and Mrs. Vining came +in. She went straight to the prospector, with her hands out pleadingly. +Had she wavered, heaven knows what might not have happened. + +"Harry!" she said. + +What transpired after that I cannot say. Lafe and I found ourselves +outside, and there the doctor joined us. + +Not long after sunrise, Johnson himself drove a light, covered wagon in +front of the porch steps, with me on the seat beside him. Our orders +were to catch the Burro express with our guests. + +Mrs. Vining came first, the prospector holding fast to her arm. His eyes +were steady and he appeared perfectly rational, but uneasy and nervous, +and he still shambled in his walk. Just behind them was the specialist, +brisk and confident. He smiled on us triumphantly. + +Before Mrs. Vining got into the vehicle, Mrs. Horne surged down the +steps impulsively and threw her arms about her neck and kissed her. + +"Judy, I'm so--you've made me feel so--you're such a good--" + +"Hush," whispered the woman of the yellow hair, and all the gay +affectation was gone from her. "Let us be thankful he's all right. If +he'll only stay--good-by, dear--we can only hope and pray God." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +LAFE HELPS A DESERTER + + +After this experience, Johnson settled to hard work for Horne, and hard +work on a range means unremitting toil. When everything moved smoothly, +he would act as Horne's trail boss. At this time the cowman was buying +large herds in Mexico, principally yearling steers and cows and calves. +He would throw these cattle across the line and pasture them until a +rising market offered the profits he had set his mind on. Success had so +puffed up Horne that nothing less than sixty per cent would tempt his +investment. + +At the setting-in of winter again, Lafe took his outfit far down below +Arizpe and purchased a herd of nine hundred head. Then the American +authorities declared a quarantine and the cattle could not be brought up +until it was lifted. Johnson started back. His party camped on the San +Pedro, and just before they crawled under the blankets, they were joined +by a native outfit. Of course the Mexicans had no beef or anything to +eat. The boss gave them a quarter from the yearling they had killed that +evening. + +Five of them began to shoot dice on a saddle blanket in a decent, +gentlemanly manner--two of the cowboys, the Chinese cook, a Yaqui +vaquero and a Mexican horse thief from the Cuitaca valley. The boss +smoked and watched the game. Another man lay under the wagon with his +collar bone broken and at times his plaints became a nuisance. + +"Come a eight," the Celestial invoked. "Heap bum thlow. Me ketchum soon. +You wait." + +Presently they became aware that somebody was ministering to their +injured companion. His moans ceased. "Feel any better, now?" a voice +asked. There followed murmurings and a movement as if the newcomer were +easing the sufferer's position. + +"Well," he said, "if you can swear that way, you shouldn't ought to be +dying. Keep it up. You're doing fine." + +A tall man walked into the group around the lantern. He surveyed each +face in turn. The Yaqui was blowing on the dice to bring luck and was +fearfully disgusted at the interruption. Addressing himself to Johnson, +as though somebody had told him that he was the leader, the stranger +said: "Hello! Got anything to eat?" + +"Sure," Lafe answered readily. "Here, you, Charlie--go get this +gentleman some cold beef and bread. Drag it now; ketchum quick. Fly at +it, pardner." + +The visitor was ravenous and bolted the beef in hunks. Lafe judged that +he had walked into camp, but refrained from asking why, although the +man is poor indeed who cannot obtain a horse to ride in that country. +Bedding was scarce, for they were traveling light, and the best that +Johnson could offer was that he should double up with the Chinaman. +Their guest appeared no whit abashed by the prospect. + +"Well, me for the hay," he said at once. "I'm all in. Lordy, hark to my +joints creak. I bet I've footed it a million miles through the sand, Mr. +Johnson. Your name's Johnson, ain't it? Mine's Wilkins. Say, if this +here Chink snores, you'll be burying a cook in the morning, sure as +you're alive." + +They headed for the Border at daybreak. It was a long thirty miles, and +Lafe impressed a horse and the injured man's saddle for Wilkins' use. He +noted that Wilkins' overalls and shirt were trying to forsake him and +that his toes were taking the air, so when he perceived Charlie +measuring him with a comparative eye, in which lurked a gleam of +satisfaction, he sent the cook sharply about his business. Lafe held +that superiority of race should ever be maintained. + +For the most part they rode in silence, as men do at the beginning of +day. Their eyes were heavy with sleep. Wilkins seemed sullen and gave no +explanation of his presence in that region. He sat stiffly erect in the +saddle with his right arm hanging straight at his side. A cowboy or a +native westerner crooks his elbows and lets them jog. + +"He's a soldier," Lafe concluded, and because he entertained an +undefined contempt for soldiers, he trotted ten yards ahead of his guest +throughout the morning. + +The sun was high when they sighted a white stone monument on a ridge +below the Huachucas. A wire fence ran past it. They could see it stretch +for miles and miles in a straight line. On their side of the fence was +Mexico. Beyond lay the United States. + +They reached a gate. Johnson got down and held it open for his men to +pass through. Wilkins stopped and remained a dozen yards within the +Mexican Border. + +"I don't reckon I'll go on with you," said he; "I'll just stick around +here for a spell. Here's your horse, Mr. Johnson. Much obliged. He's +sure some horse." + +"All right," Lafe answered, and ordered one of his men to throw the +horse in with the saddle bunch, which they were driving loosely ahead of +them. It struck him as curious that a man should voluntarily go afoot in +that unsettled mountain country, but he never abandoned the tenet that a +man's business is his own. Consequently he showed no surprise, nor did +his men, but they moved off northward, leaving Wilkins gazing after them +from the far side of the fence. + +"Look!" said a cowboy. "What's that girl doing here?" + +A young woman was fording the river some distance to their left, just +below the Palomino. Johnson recognized her mount and made as if to hail +her. Then a sudden remembrance of Wilkins waiting beyond the gate +caused him to pull up. He grinned and grew solemn abruptly, because she +was a friend of his wife's, and her brother worked for Horne. + +Of course he told Hetty all about it on his return home and of course +she refused to see the matter from his standpoint at all and exhibited +the liveliest sympathy and understanding of the case. Lafe need not try +to tell her that she was indiscreet; Mary Lou Hardin could afford to be +indiscreet. Hetty had never known a sweeter, nicer girl. To this Lafe +grunted. He had not much faith in women's estimates of their own sex and +he considered that any girl who would go to meet a soldier who dare not +enter his own country were better off under careful surveillance. + +"Nonsense!" cried Hetty. "I tell you it's all right. Anything Mary Lou +does must be all right. I'll ride over to-morrow and see her. I bet she +tells me all about it." + +When Johnson returned to the Canon next night from a day of +horse-breaking, he found Hetty simply bursting with news. Yes, Mary Lou +had told her all about it. Wilkins had been a trooper--a corporal or a +colonel or something--and he and Mary Lou had been sweethearts for over +a year. But Mr. Hardin would not hear of her marrying a soldier, so Mr. +Wilkins had done the only thing possible under the circumstances--he had +gone over into Mexico to make a fortune in the mines. It would appear, +however, that something ailed the price of copper. The company closed +down one of its shafts and Mr. Wilkins was released. He had grown lonely +for Mary Lou and homesick for his own country. Wasn't it noble of him? +The whole tangle was perfectly clear to Hetty. + +"Noble, my foot!" said Lafe. "The feller's a deserter. And here I done +lent him a horse!" + +That was not all Hetty had to say. She had a clever scheme, concocted by +herself and Mary Lou while they mingled their tears over this recital of +self-sacrifice. It was this--Wilkins wanted to come back. If he did so +without preliminary negotiation, they would be apt to lock him in a cell +and then he would not be able to see Mary Lou at all. Wasn't it inhuman? +There were some silly rules or regulations Mr. Wilkins had overlooked +when he departed, and Mary Lou said that the commandant would probably +not see the thing in the right light and would give no consideration +whatever to their feelings. Mary Lou was sure that the commandant had a +pick on Mr. Wilkins. + +"I reckon he'd ought to give this here Wilkins a better job and present +him with a purse, hey?" Lafe sneered. "I reckon they'd ought to make him +boss of all them soldiers. Then him and Mary Lou could get married and +everything would be lovely. Yes, I reckon that's the nicest way to treat +a deserter." + +"Why, Lafe," Hetty remonstrated, "don't you see? He just left to make +enough money to marry Mary Lou. He did it all for her. Wasn't it grand +of him?" + +The boss threw up his hands and walked off to the spring, where he could +smoke and clear his brain of the cobwebs of sentiment. He was not to be +allowed to dismiss the matter so lightly. When she had him in the house, +Hetty pounced upon him again. Hardly had he taken a chair, than she came +to sit on his knee and began stroking his hair. Lafe would not have had +a citizen of Badger see this ridiculous performance for all the wealth +stored in the depths of the mountains, but he nevertheless submitted to +it with a sort of reluctant enjoyment. + +"Mary Lou and I," said Hetty, "we thought that if you would speak to Mr. +Horne, he would speak to that soldier man." + +"Would he, now? And what has ol' Horne got to say to that general, or +whatever he is?" + +"Why, you baby, don't you see? Mr. Horne and that man who runs the fort +are friends. Now, Mary Lou and I thought that if Mr. Horne would only +say something nice about Wilkins, he'd let him go. Don't you think he +would?" + +"Oh, sure. He'd pin a medal on that feller. It's like he'd put it on +with a sword, though, to make it stick." + +"Oh, Lafe," Hetty said, almost in tears. + +Lafe groaned and gave up the fight. It would be utterly useless, he told +her--who ever heard of such a proposition made to serious men? But, of +course, if Hetty wanted her husband to make an idiot of himself, he +supposed he would have to do so. + +"It won't be much trouble," Hetty coaxed. She added: "There, I knew my +boy would help me." + +Her boy approached the task with much misgiving and very shamefacedly. +He was not a skillful pleader at any time, being accustomed to take what +he wanted, instead of asking for it. As a result, old Horne bellowed: +"Haw, haw," and slapped his leg and rolled about in his chair, gurgling +that Lafe would be the death of him yet. Then Mrs. Horne came into the +room. + +"What's this all about?" she inquired. + +Johnson told her and withdrew. The cowman was still chortling. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +AND DISCOVERS HETTY'S BROTHER + + +However, when he joined Lafe at the stables that afternoon, he looked a +very chastened individual. Had Lafe seen the gradual transition in mood, +from huge merriment to exasperation and then protest and resentful +surrender, he would have understood better. Horne volunteered nothing of +what had passed, so he went to Mrs. Horne. That lady informed him that +her husband would use his best endeavor with the commandant. There +appeared to be no question in her mind that this was the only course +open to him, and Johnson, who had come prepared for a few timely jokes +on the matter, muttered: "Yes, ma'am, I sure am obliged," and walked +away like a chidden child. + +Two weeks later he moved his outfit south again. And at their old camp +on the San Pedro, Wilkins walked in on them. His advent was not +unexpected, but Lafe found it impossible to give him more than frigid +civility. The man had been recreant to his trust and he was going to get +out of it through the intercession of women; that was enough to damn him +in the eyes of Lafe and his kind. + +"Howdy," said Wilkins unconcernedly. "I'm going back." + +"So I done heard." + +"I got the letter here," Wilkins continued, fumbling in his shirt bosom. +"He says if I go back, they'll let me off easy on account of previous +good conduct." + +"Huh-huh. Sure," said the boss grimly, "I'll let you have a horse and +you can ride with us in the morning. We start at four o'clock, +remember." + +A sergeant of cavalry and two troopers sat their horses beside the big +corrals where the custom men inspect the cattle, when the cavalcade +arrived. They led a spare mount. At sight of them, Wilkins left the +party and loped ahead. The soldiers waited for him on the other side. He +went unhesitatingly through the gate--jubilant, alert and smiling, like +a girl going to her first dance. The sergeant advanced and Wilkins +extended his hand. The soldier ignored it. + +"Here's your horse, Johnson," said Wilkins. "You've been mighty decent. +Muchas gracias. All right, Osborne. I'm ready." + +"Hold on," Lafe cut in; "say, wait a minute. What's the matter, anyhow? +What's it all about? I want to get the rights of this." + +"A deserter, Mr. Johnson," said the sergeant. "He used to be in Troop F. +Ran off, he did. Some post exchange funds went, too." + +"That's a lie," Wilkins shouted; "I never touched a cent. And you know +it better'n anybody else, Osborne." + +"We've been chasing him a year, Mr. Johnson." + +Wilkins was watching Lafe much as a dog would watch his master to see +whether he was angry. "I'd like to talk to you a minute, if you're +agreeable, Mr. Johnson." The sergeant nodded acquiescence, and he led +Lafe aside. "It's a wonder you'll speak to me after that. Osborne, +there--he wouldn't shake hands." + +"I'm not a soldier," the boss said guardedly. + +"And I'm not a thief. You believe that, don't you? It was the rotten +sameness of the life. Oh, you know how it is--and Mary Lou +waiting--well, I hated the post, and it wasn't long before I grew to +hate the boys. What'd you say? Sure, they're all right. But when you're +cooped up with the same crowd day in and day out, the best men on earth +will soon hate one another. You ain't never done it, so you don't know. +Nothing to see but those ol' mountains, solemn as death all the time." +He broke off, striving to compose himself. "See that high one yonder? I +swear I've seen it nodding at me. Yes, sir, just like this. And Mary Lou +and her father--oh, I got afraid of those hills--honest to God, I did. +And the boys--why even your cowboys look down on us. And Mary Lou--so I +beat it and swore I'd never come back." + +"But you did." + +"That's the queer part of it"--he laughed without mirth--"I can't +rightly explain that myself. Mary Lou--no, I'd have come back anyhow. I +was going dippy down there among the yellow-bellies. And Mary Lou, +she--" + +He told Lafe that he had wandered four times to the line, merely to get +a glimpse of the country. The air this side of the border fence was +different to the other; he was positive of that, although the boundary +consisted of some strands of barbed wire. Once a corporal, returning +from Naco to the post, had come upon him a mile within American +territory. What was he doing there? Oh, just looking round. He had taken +back with him a prickly-pear plant. The corporal had almost caught +Wilkins that time, but he managed to put the fence between them. On the +other side he could twiddle his fingers at the corporal, who dared not +pursue. + +Johnson was puzzled and said so. "What were you hanging round here for? +With a good job at the mines, you had a chance to start all over again." + +"That's what I'm a-telling you, consarn it. With the whole wide world to +wander in, I kept sneaking back to this fence like a sick pup. Ain't it +hell?" The aching sadness of a very homesick man had him fast. He stared +up the San Pedro valley and drew in a slow, deep breath. His voice was +unsteady when he tried to resume. + +"And Mary Lou--I sent her messages, and she kept saying--" + +"Oh, well," said Lafe, "if you're going to cry over it, I'm off. Adios." + +"Don't be a bloody fool. Hey, wait a minute, Johnson." + +The escort could not be kept waiting all night, the sergeant shouted. + +"Keep your shirt on, Osborne. I'll have to be quiet long enough from +to-day." + +"About three years, I'm thinking," the sergeant said gloatingly. + +Wilkins let the remark pass. He was gazing at two riders who were +advancing down the lane towards the corrals. "Why--no, it can't be. Yes, +it is. It's Mary Lou." + +It was, indeed, Mary Lou; and Lafe's wife was with her. Johnson was not +especially pleased to see her there, but he wisely refrained from +comment. The two women approached the group. Mary Lou shook hands +gravely with Wilkins and Lafe was glad that he did not try to kiss her, +or betray any sentimental weakness. The pair accepted the situation +soberly and Mary Lou called to her friend to come forward. + +"This," she said shyly, "is Bill. Shake hands with Mrs. Johnson, Bill." + +"How do you--Bob, Bob! It's you," Hetty squealed. + +The manner of Mrs. Johnson's introduction was this--she jumped her horse +close to the deserter and clasped him in her arms. He was equally +fervent on his part. He held her tight and cried: "Hetty! Little Hetty." + +Lafe experienced a not unnatural curiosity. He thrust between them and +wanted to know who the gentleman might be who seemed so fond of his +wife, and, glaring at that unabashed young woman, inquired what she +meant by it. The troopers were grinning. The sergeant looked annoyed. + +"Why, Lafe dear, this is Bob." + +"So I done heard you say," said Lafe. "Bob who? What're you hugging him +for?" + +"He's my brother." + +The boss's tongue clove to the roof of his mouth and he sat dumbly, +looking at his wife. Mary Lou and Hetty were patting Wilkins' hand and +making much of him. They did not seem to appreciate the fact that he was +an outcast and a prisoner, but treated him as if they had every reason +to be proud of this reunion. + +"So your name ain't Wilkins? It's Ferrier?" Lafe said slowly. + +"Yes," said the other. + +"Oh, Lafe, we must get him off sure." + +Johnson silenced her and turned his back on the deserter. Curtly he told +Hetty that the escort was waiting. He ordered her to come with him and +to bring Mary Lou. + +"Tell Bob good-by," she insisted. + +"So long," said the boss grudgingly. + +"No, that won't do. You've got to shake hands with him." + +Lafe glanced at her radiant face and what he was about to say never came +out. He stuck out his long arm towards Wilkins, who grasped his hand +eagerly. + +The misery of indecision had dropped from the deserter like a cloak that +is shed. He laughed encouragingly over his shoulder at Hetty, as he +turned to leave. + +"Did you expect me to holler, Johnson?" he asked. "Not much! Why, this +is going home, to me." + +"Ready?" Osborne cried. + +"And when I get out, I'll be able to look you boys in the face, too. Not +you, Osborne. You can't look me in the eye right now. Pshaw! What is a +year in a lifetime?" + +"Quit your preaching. Come on." + +"Adios, Mary Lou. Adios, Hetty. So long, Johnson. I'll see you soon." + +"Guard and prisoner--'tention! Fours--left about--march!" + +They swung around and made northwest, Wilkins in their midst. He was +making his horse prance and was humming "Dixie." Once he looked back and +waved his arm in a wide gesture towards the Huachucas, towering on the +left; to the right, the straggling Mules range; and the San Pedro valley +between, stretching away for eighty miles. + +"What about this little ol' country now, hey?" he shouted. "What do you +think of her, hey? How about this air? Lord!" + +Hetty waved at him, but Mary Lou, who had drawn out a handkerchief to do +the same, wept into it instead. They started slowly homeward, Lafe +ambling along in gloomy quiet. Hetty did not perceive his mood, being +too uplifted over her brother's recovery to be cognizant of lesser +things. She ranged beside her husband. There were tears on her cheeks, +but she was smiling and humming "Dixie." + +"Isn't it just like heaven? Here I haven't seen him in six years. Just +think of finding him like this. Oh, I never thought I could be so +happy." + +"You bet," the boss said scathingly. "This is simply great, this is. +He's gone to jail, I suppose you know? And I've got to get him out, I +reckon." + +"You can do that all right," Hetty declared--she had a vague idea that +Lafe administered the entire law of the land, the High justice and the +Low--"What does the jail matter, anyhow? We've got him back." + +"Yes, it's all right now," Mary Lou agreed and dried her eyes. + +"Oh, pshaw," said Lafe, settling to the ride. "What's the use?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +GREAT EXPECTATIONS IN JOHNSON FAMILY + + +"Say, Dan." + +"Huh-huh?" + +"Did you ever feel kind of sudden like you'd done something before?" +Lafe inquired. + +It was a month later and we were riding through the dusk up the Canon +towards his home. This was too abstruse. + +"I mean," he explained, "sometimes when you're at some place or looking +at something, haven't you had a quick idea that you'd done the same +thing in the same place a long time ago? Haven't you ever felt that way, +Dan?" + +"Often." + +"I wonder," said he, "what's the reason?" + +"It's probably a recurring impression--a remembrance of an act performed +years ago." + +He shook his head. "No-oo. It ain't that. I ain't never rode up here +with you before. This is the first time me and you have been here +together, ain't it? Yet I swear it struck me just now that, so long ago +I can't call to mind when, me and you were trotting along just like +this." + +"Perhaps we were chums in a previous existence. There is the +transmigration of souls, you know." + +Lafe answered impatiently that the phenomenon could not be explained on +any such grounds and expressed surprise that a man of my seeming sense +would credit such theories. It seemed to rankle in him strangely. He +grumbled to himself for a considerable distance, and was so visibly put +out that I switched the talk. + +"How's Bob getting along?" I ventured. + +It proved an unfortunate choice of topics. Ferrier had been given a year +in the cells by the commandant of the post, and then Horne had gone to +his succor. And although the major had vowed to high heaven that no +deserter would ever be dealt with leniently by him, he had yielded +finally to the point of cutting down his punishment. It is true that +there were many extenuating circumstances, and Ferrier seemed so sincere +in his desire to atone that his commander was favorably inclined. So it +ended by Hetty's brother escaping with thirty days' confinement. Then, +anxious to get him away from old associations, and comrades who knew the +mistakes of his past, Johnson arranged through Horne to pay for his +discharge. + +All this had he done. Indeed, Lafe had labored unceasingly for his +brother-in-law. Yet he railed against him, even while he aided. Like +many men who never shirk from helping when it is most needed, Johnson +could never hear the object of his benefactions mentioned without +falling a victim to spleen. I should have avoided all reference to +Ferrier. + +"There's a brother-in-law for you," he snorted. "Yes, sir, he's sure a +treasure. I no sooner get him out of the cells for deserting, than off +he goes and--guess what he wants to do now?" + +"Borrow some money?" + +"You've hit it. Yes, sir, you've nailed it dead to rights. Here, after +all the trouble me and ol' Horne took with that general at the Fort, +that there feller Ferrier asks me to stake him, just as cool as you'd +ask for a match. Say, have you got one? I'm plumb out." + +"Oh, well," said I, "a man has to stand by his family." + +"He ain't my family." + +"He's Hetty's brother." + +"Sure. He's Hetty's brother and I ain't allowed to forget it, either. I +tell you what, Dan--when a man marries a woman, he marries all her kin, +too." + +With which bitter reflection Johnson borrowed some tobacco and rolled a +cigarette. After a space he remarked that Ferrier planned to settle on a +quarter-section within the Horne range, and that he required three +hundred dollars to make a start. Mary Lou Hardin was included in this +scheme of settlement, said Lafe, the idea being that two could live as +cheaply as one and that Bob would never amount to a row of beans unless +anchored and domesticated. He had nothing but scorn for such adolescent +reasoning. + +"When I think of the way a young feller cares for a girl, I want to +laugh," he said. "Pshaw, it's all mush. Nothing but talk, and those kids +make the talk do instead of work. And if it ain't mush, it's wind. I +tell you what--a man and a woman don't rightly care for each other, Dan, +until they're married." + +I stared at him. "Is that so? Well, well. Suppose they only wake up then +and find they don't care at all. That would be fierce." + +"Sure," he answered gravely. "It's a gamble. Why don't you take a +chance?" + +"That's my business." + +"Well, you needn't get all swelled up about it. Hetty was saying to me +only the other day--say, what're you so red in the face about?" + +"You and Hetty stick to housekeeping and let me run my own affairs," I +retorted hotly. Their presumption passed all bounds. "Whenever a man's +friends get married, they begin picking out a girl for him right off. I +suppose misery likes company." + +Johnson chuckled and said: "All right, let's forget it." It was very +apparent in what channel his thoughts moved, however, for he would keep +turning on me a broad smile. + +"What good are bachelors, anyhow?" he demanded. "They'd ought for to tax +'em heavy." + +"You talk like a mothers' meeting, Lafe." + +"Well, I've got the rights of this thing, anyhow. Bachelors make me +think of what Frank Hastings said once about a mule--up on the Plains, +this was--'without pride of ancestry or hope of posterity,' Frank said." + +"Huh! Frank read that somewhere." + +For an hour we were silent. Night closed down over the Canon. The +mountains seemed to take a long breath and settle to rest. It was warm, +and so we were hopeful of rain within a week, or perhaps two. Our ponies +swashed the dust lazily side by side, and we said no word, for the +coming of dark in our country will still speech in anyone but a clod or +a fool. + +A Jack-o'-Lantern rose in front of us, twinkling like a diamond against +black velvet. It held steady for a moment, then flitted eerily in +darting curves, soaring high until it appeared a tiny star. Our folk say +that little Jack is a lost soul, doomed to haunt the place of his +earthly woes; but I have a pleasanter theory. + +"Look at him," said Johnson in a tone almost reverent. "That there shiny +feller's been following of me at nights now something ridiculous. If I +ain't out on the range, I swan he comes loafing round the house. +Honest." + +"I like 'em." + +"You do? I wonder what they are?" + +"Why, you mean to say you don't know? I'm surprised at you, Lafe. +They're human souls seeking a lodging." + +He exploded into laughter. "Is that so?" said he. Facing to the front +again, he fell to musing. "Is that so?" he repeated. "You're sure a wolf +on souls, Dan." + +Hetty was on the porch to receive us. With her was Ferrier, big and +straight and indolent. She bade me welcome with frank heartiness as an +old friend, but there was distinct coldness in her greeting of Lafe. I +could not but observe it. When he would have kissed her, she turned her +cheek to him; she submitted even to this with evident reluctance. A +tiff--a doting couple's tiff--I concluded, and engaged Ferrier in +conversation. He had scarcely a word to say, and walked beside me so +lazily when we went to put the horses in the pasture, that my patience +was sorely taxed. That was the way with soldiers, I reflected--once a +soldier, never any good for anything else. Yet what little he uttered +contradicted this notion, for he seemed in earnest. Apparently Bob had +been doing some hard thinking and he was determined to get a foothold on +the broad, straight highway. + +As we were entering the house: "Oh, do be quiet. Let me alone. You worry +me half to death. A lot you care what becomes of me. Here, you're off +all day and sometimes long after dark, and I've got--" + +"Why, hon," Lafe was pleading, "I've got my work to do. You know I stay +home every minute I can. Ol' Horne says I'm tied to your apron strings. +What's got into you, Hetty?" + +"Nothing's the matter with me. For heaven's sake, shut up and let me +have a little peace. I say you don't care what becomes of me. No, you +don't. Here, I've had a splitting headache and when I tell you about it, +all you do is grin. Now, don't go and try to tell me you feel for me." + +"What do you want me to do? Cry on your shoulder? A man can't make a +fuss over them things, Hetty." + +"There you go again--making fun of me. If I was to die to-night, +nobody'd care--not even Bob. I wish I could die. You could go back to +Paula then." + +"Hon," said Lafe, in a choked voice. + +Bob wiped his feet noisily on the steps and I coughed. When we entered, +there was no trace of a dispute or of anger on Hetty's countenance. +Supper was ready and we sat down to it with grand appetites. + +In the morning the repair of a windmill at a water tank compelled our +setting out to Badger to purchase pipe and joints. Lafe explained the +purpose of the trip at unusual length to his wife. She listened stonily +and told him to go by all means--told him with that high air of +resignation we put on when we acquiesce in anything we are powerless to +prevent. Just as we started, Johnson tried to put his arm about her. On +being repulsed, he slowly mounted his horse. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +BIRTH OF LAFE JOHNSON, JR. + + +We were going down the Canon when Hetty called after us: "Well, don't +take any bad money, you two." + +She stood in the doorway, wiping flour from her hands. Bob was grinning +over her shoulder. The caution must have reminded Lafe. He slapped his +hip pocket and extracted a wallet, from which he drew two soiled bills. + +"Here," he said, riding back, "you keep this, Hetty. I've got three +dollars in silver. That'll do me." + +"You're learning," was her composed comment, and she slipped the money +inside the bosom of her waist. After this agreeable exhibition of +domestic foresight, we rode down the Canon and started across the +valley. It may be that I showed amusement. + +"What's hurting you?" Lafe asked; "what I done then? That's the only way +I can save money. It's right queer, Dan, but whenever I have any and get +to town, it goes like a bat out of hell." + +This information was wholly superfluous. "I usually have to charge my +horse's keep and my meals," I confessed. + +"Sure. It's in the blood, I reckon. But if me and you and all the others +don't learn to sweat a dollar, all these here new people a-coming in +from the States will take everything off'n us. Yes, sir, they'll have us +bare to the hides. Some of 'em have got the first two-bits they ever +earned." + +The only previous occasion on which I had seen Johnson hoard his money +was once when he hid it in the band of his hat as a safeguard against +new-found friends, and, during subsequent operations, forgot its hiding +place. Lafe had been bitterly chagrined on discovering it later, holding +himself cheated of entertainment. Assuredly his new responsibilities +were working a change of heart. + +"Lafe, I never knew Hetty was so pretty." + +"You're whistlin'," he said. An accompanying sniff signified surprise +and contempt that my recognition was so tardy. We jogged along and he +became thoughtful. Finally he asked: "Did you notice it, too?" + +"Notice what?" + +"Well, I kind of got the idea that Hetty was prettier now than she used +to was. When you said that just now, it made me think you seen it, too." + +I nodded earnestly. There had come a look into Hetty's eyes which caused +one to wait expectantly for a halo to appear. + +"But she's sort of poorly," he went on; "seems like everything I do +makes her mad. I expect everybody gets that way some time or other, +more especially if they live off by themselves where they never see no +one. Don't you reckon?" + +"Perhaps it's Bob." + +"No-oo, I don't think so. But she does get mad about him sometimes--not +at Bob, though. Anything that lazy scamp does is all right. No, sir; at +me. She got mad because I said I wouldn't let him have that money. I +can't spare it, Dan. Honest, I can't. And she says I leave her alone too +much." + +"She'll soon get over that." + +"Sometimes she's worse'n others. Yeow, how she gives it to me some +days." + +We reached town in good time and put up at the Fashion, where were three +of the Anvil boys. Johnson hailed their presence with proper ceremonies, +and then drew me to one side. + +"Say," said he, "I've got to see the new sheriff for a minute. I'll pull +out right after dinner. What're you going to do? Stick around?" + +"Oh, I suppose so. Nothing else to do." + +"Well, if you should happen for to play pitch," he advised, "don't bid +more'n your hand's worth. Remember your weakness. Adios." + +Two months later we two again rode together up Hope Canon. Bob Ferrier +was behind us and was soberly elated, for that afternoon Johnson had +loaned him three hundred dollars and I had gone security. He would wed +Mary Lou on the morrow. + +The sun was setting behind The Hatter as we neared the house. It was a +blissful twilight, and Lafe sang in gladness of heart. + + But he chanced one day to run agin + A bullet made o' lead, + Which was harder than he bargained for, + And now poor Bill is dead; + And when they brung his body home + A barrel of tears was shed. + +He ended with a halloo as we topped the last rise. There was no response +or sign from the house. A puzzled look came over his face and he was +down before his horse came to a stop. He sprang through the door. + +"Hetty!" he shouted. "Hetty!" Then in a voice hoarse from fear: "She +ain't here. She ain't here. Hetty, where are you?" + +He was rushing frantically from one room to another. Ferrier was more +methodical. He found a piece of paper under a cup on the kitchen table, +which he read and handed to his brother-in-law. + + I can't stand it any longer. I am going away. You'll soon get + over it. Be sure to feed the dog. Good-by. + +Johnson held the penciled lines at arm's length, while I waited for him +to say something. It is my belief that he did not distinguish the words +after the first perusal. Then he began to laugh. + +"Why, it can't be--Hetty, she wouldn't--say, it must be a joke--what +does it mean?" + +Bob lifted his shoulders in a shrug he had picked up from the Mexicans. +It stung Lafe. + +"Where has she gone? Do you know anything about this?" + +"Not me. She's been mighty queer lately, Lafe. Where could she go?" + +We could only look at one another while we mentally debated +possibilities. Hetty had no kith or kin in this region, and the nearest +point was Badger. She could not have gone there, else we should have +passed her on the road. + +"Mary Lou's!" Bob exclaimed. "I'll swear that's where she's hit for." + +Johnson remained beside the table a moment, deep in thought. Then he +smote his hands together and an expression of relief lighted his face. + +"I'll go get her," he told us. + +We were for accompanying him to the Hardins' place, but had not gone +more than a few hundred yards when he pulled up and requested that we go +back. This matter was between him and Hetty--he said it with some +hesitation--and it were better that he go alone. So we turned back, only +to halt again. + +"He might need some help," was Bob's excuse. "Supposing she's sick. What +do you say if we trail him?" + +"Come on." + +It was now after nine o'clock and there was small probability of Johnson +perceiving us. Yet we kept far in rear lest he hear our horses. We had +proceeded perhaps a mile when he amazed us by riding back. Lafe was +going at a lope and he did not pause. To our utter consternation he took +no notice of our presence, but went by at a clatter and swerved to the +right up a narrow ravine. + +"He's crazy," said Ferrier. "He must have gone out of his head. Let's +drift." + +"Wait, Lafe. Wait!" I bellowed. + +We jabbed with the spurs and went in pursuit. Presently we saw Lafe's +horse standing riderless amid the post-oak, nibbling at the grass, and +some distance in front we heard the stroke of his spur. He must have +stubbed his toe, for he fell, and swore with freedom. That permitted us +to gain on him, but he picked himself up and went forward at an ungainly +run. + +"What's got into him?" said Bob. He was puffing. We had abandoned our +horses and were legging it after him as best we could. + +"Search me!" I said breathlessly. + +Far ahead I could see a spark burning. It was going steadily up the +ravine. Surely Lafe could not be smoking; I dismissed this idea at once, +for we could see him dimly and he was much nearer than the spark. It +seemed to expand and cavort with glee as we came on. + +The ravine had always been a favorite spot with Hetty. There were shady +places in it during the day, however merciless the aching void of sky, +and often had she brought her sewing to sit there, listening to the +acorns drop in the hushed stillness. + +"Gee, I can't run another step," said Ferrier. "You go on. Lafe! Stop!" + +We both ceased running. I was compelled to clutch the limb of a tree to +hold myself upright. The spark ahead of us was now grown to a ball of +fire, giving off a vaporous sheen. Still it kept on, and the runner in +front slowed to a walk: Lafe was as little accustomed to this exercise +as we were. Then I perceived that Jack-o'-Lantern had come to a stop. He +flashed above a tree, dipped downward, poised in midair. + +"Hal-loo," came a cry from Johnson. "Here I am. Hurry! Hurry!" + +"Let's try again," Bob gasped, and we forced our cramped limbs into a +run. + +Lafe was bending over a white object that lay huddled at the base of a +tree. + +"It's her," said he, as we arrived. + +Hetty was unconscious, and had her head pillowed in the crook of one +arm. Often so had Lafe seen her lying asleep, on tiptoeing into the room +when returned from distant parts of the range. + +"Here," Bob grunted. "Give me her legs. Help with the shoulders, Dan." + +"I'll take 'em myself," Lafe said fiercely. + +We lifted her very slowly and tenderly, and started back. Twice were we +obliged to set our burden down and rest, but we managed to carry her +back to the house. As we were placing her on the bed, Hetty revived and +opened her eyes. + +"Get away," she said fretfully to her husband. "You're always smelling +of that tobacco. Get away. You make me tired." + +"Hetty," Lafe whispered, groping for her hand. + +"What're you looking so scared about?" his wife asked. "Leave me be, +now. I hate you." + +"Better get out," I cautioned. "Go and fetch Armstrong." + +A few minutes later we heard the rattle of his horse's hoofs, going at +full speed towards Badger. He had saddled a fresh mount. And we composed +ourselves there in chairs beside the bed, to wait--listening to Hetty's +moans when she would rouse from the semi-trance which held her. Never +had I felt so helpless and so wholly wretched. + +"Tut-tut," said Dr. Armstrong, when knocked up from bed. "Keep your +shirt on, man. It isn't the first time in the history of the world, nor +the last, I take it. She's a strong woman. Brace up." + +Nevertheless, he made all speed, and although three score years had +beaten over his rugged head, he never once complained during the long +ride. Johnson went at a gallop, with brief, impatient periods of +dogtrotting to breathe their horses. They covered the fourteen miles in +fifty-seven minutes, and it was not much after one o'clock when they +clattered up to the door. + +Lafe would have pushed into the room had not the doctor thrust him back. +At the same time Hetty turned in the bed and cried petulantly that she +would not have him near. + +"Out you go," he ordered, "do you hear me? Don't go whining round here. +That's nothing unusual." + +The husband demurred, but Armstrong shoved him outside. As he was +passing from the room, the doctor said to him over his shoulder in a +tone of intense joy--the joy of the born physician in a fair fight +against the Enemy: "She's liable to swear at you in a minute. Does she +know how to swear? I've heard some of 'em cuss me everything they could +lay their tongues to." It was almost a chortle he emitted, but he was +solemn enough before Lafe had closed the door. + +There is a flat rock on the slope in front of the Johnson house, and +Lafe and Bob and I sat thereon and tried to smoke. It was of no use. +Lafe simply could not remain still. He suddenly remembered the horses, +which we had entirely forgotten, and led them to the spring to be +watered. That done, he unsaddled and turned them into the pasture. The +beasts gave a long sigh of relief, shook themselves, lay down to roll, +and began to graze. We joined him at the fence. Johnson spread his +elbows on the top rail and kept his gaze on a brilliant spark that was +rocketing among the cottonwoods. He turned away at last and took to +wandering round and round the house, staring at the light in their +bedroom window. Ferrier and I followed dumbly, finding no words to +comfort. Lafe left us and rapped timidly on the door. + +"I told you to get out and stay out!" Armstrong hissed. The doctor was +not a nervous person, but he was strung to high tension. We caught +Hetty's voice, raised in querulous supplication. It was very weak and +seemed to carry reproach of Lafe, and he shrank back. + +"Get out, I tell you. Go 'tend the horses," said Armstrong, giving him a +push. + +"I done 'tended 'em." + +"Well, take a run up and kill that wildcat that's screeching up there. +Don't shoot it. Smash him with a rock, or something; but drag it out of +here. Move, now. Send that brother-in-law of yours to me. I need him." + +Johnson faded from the door, and we paced the ground in front of the +porch. Something moist touched his hand and Lafe whipped it away, but it +was only his mongrel dog come for a caress. For the first time since +manhood Lafe knew real fear--not the nervous tension of an emergency, +but sick, craven fear. A peculiar nausea where his stomach ought to be +took all his courage away, and he rolled another cigarette in the hope +of steadying his nerves. As he struck a match, he recalled what his wife +had said about the brand of tobacco he favored and he threw the stub +away. + +"Why, she ain't much more'n a girl"--he was fondling the dog's +ears--"just a kid." + +I guessed what was passing in his mind. Thoughts of trifling things he +might have done for Hetty, to the easement of her lot, rose up to +reproach. When a man has gone through that, he has known anguish of +soul. But they were instantly submerged in a new tenderness. In that +hour of trial, Lafe learned many things. + +The creak of a cautious step on the boards of the porch brought him +standing and when Armstrong emerged, Lafe was there to meet him, pallid +of face, but entirely calm. + +"It's all right. Don't look that way, Lafe. No, you can't come in. I +came out for a drink. Where's the bucket? Whew, it's hot." + +Johnson poured him a cup of water and carried the canteen to the spring +to be refilled. On his return he stepped into the kitchen. Growing +uneasy over his long absence, I went in search of him, strolling +carelessly to the door. The room was in darkness, so I struck a match. +There was Lafe behind the door, with an old apron of Hetty's clutched in +both hands. He was simply looking at it, and looking. + +"Lafe," I said. He dropped the apron hurriedly and came out. We did not +face each other. "Tell me something." + +"Let's have it. What do you want to know?" + +I hesitated, doubtful how he might take the question. + +"Well?" + +"How did you know where to hunt? What made you think Hetty was up +there?" + +"I didn't think," he replied. "Didn't you see that li'l firefly? The +minute I set eyes on him, he sort of seemed to wave at me. Yes, sir. I +remembered what you'd said, too, Dan. Jim-in-ee, there he is again. +Look!" + +Jack-o'-Lantern had abandoned his game of hide-and-seek among the trees +and was now circling the house. He twinkled from door to window, as +though to peep in. Perhaps something discouraged him; at any rate, he +continued to flit in long, soaring glides. Lafe noted these, marveling, +and we squatted on the rock again, determined to stay there. Then, +looking upward to a star which shone in line with the chimney, he +perceived the eerie light quivering above the roof. The location +evidently suited Jack-o'-Lantern, for there he hung. + +At last there were sounds within, and Johnson clutched the dog where it +crouched between his knees. The brute whined under the grip of his +fingers. We got to our feet and the dog looked up at us in doubt, much +mystified as to what all this could mean. + +The merry spark above the roof gave a final twinkle and went out. At the +same moment an inner door opened, releasing a flood of light into the +hall-way, and a high-pitched, treble yell that lifted the hair at the +nape of my neck and set Johnson to shaking, rent the night air with the +suddenness of a popping cork. + +The doctor stuck his head out of the door. He called in suppressed glee: +"Come on in, Lafe. She wants you. Say, he's a dandy." + +Jack-o'-Lantern had found a habitation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +JOHNSON ONCE MORE IN ROLE OF SHERIFF + + +Horne of the Anvil approached his sixtieth year full of vigor. His +birthday would also mark the thirtieth anniversary of his marriage. It +had been a fat season. His steers were rollicking, the calves romped +high-tailed, the valley pastures held clear-eyed cows and his horses +were a comfort between one's knees. Therefore Horne saw that all was +good and waxed content of heart, and he bade his boss, Lafe Johnson, to +make all ready for a dance, for it was in his mind to do honor to his +neighbors, humble and high. + +"Tell everybody to come a-running," said he, "and kill the fattest +yearlings we've got. Better pick brindles, though, Lafe. Those red ones +bring too much money." + +Thus happily did Horne temper his generous impulses with shrewdness. +These directions provoked a grin from Johnson, and he despatched his +riders east and west and north and south to summon the guests. From east +and west and north and south they came--a good seventy miles, some of +them. In couples, singly, in boisterous parties, they came riding up to +the Anvil headquarters. And the dance began. + +It had lasted two days and two nights and was running comfortably into +the third day when a killing occurred which made the function memorable +in cowland annals. Everything was going smoothly. There were more than a +hundred guests, and the orchestra was still vigorous and resourceful in +invention. He occupied a seat on a stool atop a table at one end of the +dining-room, and as he sawed with the bow he kept time to the cadences +with his left foot. Occasionally a volunteer would come to his +assistance and beat on the strings at the neck of the violin with small +sticks. This produced the effect of a guitar and was very popular with +those ladies who were a bit hazy as to the time of a measure. + + Oh-oo-oo, ladies to the left and gents to the right. + All hands round; now hold 'em tight. + +Lafe had been designated master of ceremonies and he stood near the +orchestra to call off the square dances. Never more than twenty couples +were on the floor at one time, but the rhythmical beat of their feet and +the welling dust were sufficient to make an onlooker dizzy. Whenever a +gentleman swung a lady, he really swung her--no mincing or faint-hearted +gyration. With their hands behind each other's shoulders, they spun +madly about, and the lady's skirt billowed to the movement. Both would +sway dizzily when they stopped. The other guests were sleeping, or +crowded into the kitchen, where were put out for refreshment huge +platters of barbecued beef, calves' heads roasted whole under live coals +in the ground for a whole night, and bread and pickles and cheese. Pots +of coffee steamed on the stove, and one had only to give the nod to +Jerry Sellers to be honorably escorted to the saddle-shed wherein on a +stool rested a full-bellied keg. Jerry had constituted himself Lafe's +right-hand man and never relaxed in his vigilant attention to duty. Had +it not been for this first aid to the weary, the orchestra would long +since have knocked under, but Harry vowed that he would hold out as long +as the keg did, and everybody had confidence in him. + +"The next piece," he announced, "is a li'l piece I done composed myself. +It is called 'The Bull in the Corn Brakes.' Get your partners. Polka it +is. Step to it." + +Aside from a slight grayness about the eyes, Lafe gave no evidence of +fatigue. His wife and young son were asleep in Mrs. Horne's bed. On the +floor in the same bedchamber were seven other women, resting from their +exertions. No special hours for repose had been set aside. All day and +all night the dance went on, never ceasing, and there were always +couples ready. Each guest lay down for a nap when he felt his system +required it, and he lay where his notion of comfort dictated. It was not +surprising then that one tripped over men stretched out under blankets +on the veranda; the yard was cumbered with them, too. + +The lady guests were provided for in the five bedrooms of the house. As +for the children, of whom there were a dozen or more, now grown fretful +from overexcitement, they played in the yard, or down in the corrals +with some Shetland ponies Horne had imported. Only at meal times did +they give their mothers any concern. And the orchestra still held out, +having been thrice relieved that he might take naps. + +Mrs. Paint Davis fed beer out of a bottle to her yearling son. The +child's eyes grew heavy from it. A prudish person ventured to protest to +the father. + +"Pshaw, no," said Paint. "You can't make that boy drunk. It'll learn him +to leave it alone when he's growed." + +Jerry Sellers took Mordecai Bass to the saddle-shed to give him a drink. +Mordecai said something that Sellers did not like. A reluctant rebuke +was followed up by a sharp word. Ensued a furious outburst from Jerry, a +pacific remonstrance from Bass, then blows. Lafe Johnson happened to +emerge from the house to clear the dust from his lungs, and heard the +altercation. He arrived in time to separate the two, and so successful +were his labors as a peacemaker that they shook hands before parting. + +"It's all along of Florence Steel," Jerry explained to his chief. +"Mordecai, he thinks I'm trying to set to her. Just because I had four +dances--yes, and a li'l something I done remarked, pleasant like." + +On Lafe's return to the ballroom, he saw Florence waltzing with the +half-breed Baptismo. Baptismo was showing his white teeth, and he +whispered when he perceived Johnson. He was a strikingly handsome man +and possessed a peculiar fascination for women. Men disliked him and +Lafe's pride of blood was such that he usually ignored Baptismo. Had it +been his dance, the half-breed would not have been there, but Horne had +bidden him from policy. + +An hour afterwards Lafe chanced to descry Jerry going to the spring for +a bucket of fresh water to hang beside the keg. Sellers sang as he +walked, swinging the bucket. + + Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee, + Where the wild ki-yotes will howl o'er me-- + +Lafe could hear him clearly where he leaned against the jamb of the +door. He smiled over the doleful song of the night guard, which never +occurred to Jerry unless he were feeling cheerful. + + Where the rattlesnakes hiss and the wind blows free-- + +There was an abrupt breaking-off after "free." Then a dreadful cry. + +"Lafe!" came Jerry's shout. + +Johnson ran towards the spring. Close to it Sellers was hunched on the +ground, doubled up over the bucket which stood between his legs. He was +quite dead. There was a deep wound in his back, just below the shoulder +blade. + +They carried him to the barn in order not to stampede the guests, and +roused Horne, who was sleeping. When they led him to view the body, the +cowman was not wholly awake. + +"Who did it?" he asked stupidly. + +That was what everybody asked his neighbor by silent questioning of +eyes. + +"I think I know," said Lafe. + +He left them and went in search of Bass. He could not find him at the +house. Upon that he sped to the corrals, but Mordecai's horse was gone. +The half-breed Baptismo informed him that Bass had ridden off only a few +minutes before. Johnson did not hesitate. He was no longer a sheriff, +but he was boss of the Anvil range, and Anvil hospitality had been +outraged and dishonored. He would track down the slayer. Arriving at +this decision while Horne plied question on question without obtaining a +reply, he went to inform Hetty. + +"All right," said that young woman sleepily. "Take care of yourself." + +It is probable that in her drowsy state she did not appreciate his +mission, else she would not have let him go so readily. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +HE ARRESTS A SUSPECT + + +Johnson caught his most dependable horse and rode out from the Anvil +headquarters. Strapped to his hip was a .45 Colt and he had a 30-30 +Winchester in his saddle holster. Florence Steel, on foot, overtook him +at the gate of the home pasture. + +"What's this I hear? Where're you going, Mr. Johnson?" + +Lafe told her glibly that he had been sent by Mr. Horne to recover +certain cattle which had been run off by hostile nesters during the +festivities. It was true that some cattle had been stolen. + +"Sure," said Florence, gazing intently into his face. "If you meet up +with him, better watch out. A man who'll stab in the back will do most +anything." + +"What do you know about this?" + +"When you catch him," the girl added, "just give him this. Ask if this +doesn't belong to him." She thrust into Johnson's hand a large clasp +knife. There were blood stains on the blades and handle. Lafe nodded and +put it in his pocket. He did not even inquire how the girl had come by +it. + +About dusk, on the following day, Johnson sighted Bass moving quietly +up a ravine on the west side of The Hatter. Some cottonwoods intervened +to spoil a shot. Lafe made a detour and quickened his pace, hoping to +head him off. As he emerged from the ravine on to a mesa, Bass perceived +him. Instead of fleeing, he turned his horse and threw up an arm as a +caution to Lafe to halt. + +"What do you want?" he cried. + +"I want you. Better come along quiet. It'll save trouble." + +"I wouldn't choose to, thanks. No. I reckon I won't." + +Johnson was not one to take chances with an assassin. He began to pump +his Winchester. At the second shot Bass's horse lurched forward on to +his knees with a scream and stretched out, its legs stiff. His rider +scrambled clear and shot Johnson through the fleshy part of his right +forearm before he could pull again. + +The boss had drawn his six-shooter and was coming on. He coolly changed +the weapon to his left hand and threw down on him at twenty yards. + +It had often been asserted in Badger that the sheriff could not miss at +any distance under two hundred feet. This was scarcely an exaggeration. +He had pulled only once when Bass held up empty hands in token of +surrender. His gun lay on the ground and two fingers of his right hand +were gone. + +"I reckon I ought to have killed you, Mordecai," said Lafe, "but I +couldn't forget that me and you had slept under the same blankets. Do +you remember that roundup on the Lazy L? What'd you do this for?" + +"I knew you'd think I did it," was all Bass said, and he began to make a +ligature out of his handkerchief. + +"Well, get up here in front and come along. We've got twenty-one miles +ahead of us. Let's go." + +"I know what you want me for," Bass said, "but you're wrong, Lafe. I +didn't do it." + +"How do you know it was done, then?" said Lafe. "Only three of us knew +when I left the ranch. That was five minutes after we done found him." + +His prisoner did not explain, but climbed obediently into the saddle in +front of Johnson. Riding thus balanced, the horse could carry both, but +it was punishing work, and not until eleven hours later did they make +the county town. Lafe turned his prisoner over to the sheriff and saw +him safely in jail under lock and key. As he was leaving, he said: +"Here's your knife." + +"Where did you find it?" + +"Where you threw it." + +"I done lost it at the dance," said Bass. + +On this Johnson placed the knife in the sheriff's keeping, to be used as +Exhibit A. When his arm had been dressed, he returned to the Anvil +headquarters. + +All the guests had departed and, though Mrs. Horne was prostrated and +the cowman much perturbed, the cowboys of the outfit had started on +their roundup. A trifle like a murder must not interfere with business. +When he had driven Hetty and the boy home, Lafe joined the chuckwagon at +the camp on Bull Creek and took charge of operations. + +After supper on the first night Johnson took part in a game of pitch. It +was not his habit to play with his men, as being subversive of +discipline, but he was worried and needed distraction. Baptismo, the +half-breed, was in the game. He was working through the roundup as +strayman for the Gourd. Although Lafe lost, the play excited him to +cheeriness and he began to drone, as he riffled the cards-- + + Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee, + Where the wild ki-yotes will howl o'er me-- + +"What's the matter, Baptismo?" he asked suddenly. + +"Nothing's the matter. Go on and deal," said the strayman. He smiled at +Lafe, but his hands were unsteady. The boss played wretchedly and lost +more than he could afford. + +"Whatever are you thinking about, Lafe?" exclaimed his partner, in +exasperation. "I swear I never done saw a raw beginner overbid his hand +worse'n you done." + +"I'm right sorry. I was studying over something." + +On the round next morning the boss made it a point to ride with +Baptismo. The outfit was dispersed in a wide semi-circle covering an +area five miles in diameter, and moved slowly forward within sight of +one another, converging upon a cuplike valley. In this manner they drove +ahead of them all the cattle within the limits of their sweep. Usually +the half-breed was sent with the first bunch dispersed, for he was a +capable hand, but instead of posting Baptismo this morning as he did the +others, Lafe kept him at his side. Side by side they trotted slowly +through the sage-brush, with the cattle careering in front, pausing +often to look back at them. Several times Lafe raised his voice merrily. + +"Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee," he sang. + +The half-breed glanced at him obliquely and remarked: "You seem right +fond of that song, Mr. Johnson." + +"Yes? Did I sing that before? I hadn't noticed it," the boss answered, +and went on with the verse. + +All through the day Johnson kept close to Baptismo. It was quite evident +that the half-breed had difficulty holding himself in check under this +close espionage, but the only emotion he betrayed was a quickened +alertness. And all through the day Lafe sang or hummed the ballad of +"The Dying Cowboy." + +On the next afternoon, as they were picking their way through a tangle +of ocatilla among the foothills, Johnson burst into full-throated +song-- + + Oh, bury me not on the lone prairee, + Where the wild ki-yotes will howl o'er me-- + Where the rattlesnakes hiss and the wind blows free-- + +"For the love of God!" said Baptismo. "Stop that song!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE DEATH DICE + + +He was shaking as with a chill, although the perspiration stood out on +chin and forehead. On hearing this Lafe glanced in his direction and +asked, good-naturedly enough, what was the matter. + +"Nothing," said the half-breed quickly, "only you haven't sung anything +else in two days but that song, and my nerves ain't good after the time +we had at the ranch." + +Several times in the course of the evening, as the outfit loafed in camp +after supper, the boss had occasion to pass Baptismo where he lay by the +fire. Each time he either hummed or whistled a line of "The Dying +Cowboy." + +Johnson had spread his tarp about thirty yards removed from his men. He +was a very light sleeper, accustomed to wake at least once in the course +of the night to look all around the camp and make sure that everything +was well. Therefore he heard Baptismo when the latter stood over him, +and he knew almost what each second of hesitation meant. Had the +half-breed moved, the boss would have shot him dead. After an interval, +Baptismo turned away and went softly to his own bed. + +In the gray of dawn, as the Anvil men were roping their mounts from the +remuda and the horses were plunging wildly into the press of their +brethren, Lafe called his strawboss and told him to take charge of the +work for the day. To Baptismo he said, placing a hand carelessly on the +half-breed's six-shooter: "I reckon you'd better come along with me, +Baptismo." With that he took possession of the gun. + +The man's nostrils flared quickly and he grew pallid about the lips, but +he neither inquired why Lafe wanted him nor offered any objection. +Instead, he glanced in apprehension toward the group of riders now ready +and waiting for the chief's orders to be off. The horses were restless +to the tang in the air. + +It was not until the two were a mile from camp and well on their way to +the county town that Baptismo broke silence. Then it was to protest +vehemently against suspicions which Johnson had not voiced. The boss +made no answer, but kept a vigilant watch over his movements. + +There was a crowd gathered in the town. They had a man in their midst +and were dragging him at the end of a rope. As Johnson and his prisoner +came down the single street, they encountered this mob. A cloud of dust +enveloped the wretch they were dragging and Lafe had to check the rush +before it cleared sufficiently for him to discover the victim's +identity. It was Bass. He was unconscious and was bleeding from wounds +inflicted by his captors' boots and ropes. A goodly portion of the crowd +was composed of the Tilsons, relatives of Sellers, and the remainder +were members of the outfit for which Jerry had worked. Johnson held up +his hand, palm outward, and called for order. + +"What the hell do you want?" they inquired. + +"I used to be sheriff of Badger," cried Lafe, "and I'm boss now of the +Anvil range. I arrested that man you've got there. This looks like a +lynching. What's the idea?" + +Gustfully they explained that the idea was to hang Mr. Bass to a tree +adjacent. Lafe heard them in seeming patience, piecing together from the +confusion of cries just how strong their passions ran. He inquired in a +civil tone as to their reasons for hanging Mordecai. + +"What for?" they echoed. "Why, damn it all, he done killed Jerry +Sellers. Stabbed him in the back. Do you hear that? Stabbed him in the +back!" + +Lafe touched his horse with his heel and advanced on them a few steps. + +"Men," said he, "Bass never killed Jerry Sellers. I done arrested him +for it, but I made a mistake. The man who knifed him--" + +The mob interrupted with hoots and a roar of abuse. Some of them pushed +past Lafe and began to drag Bass forward once more. Others demanded to +know what warrant the sheriff had for this extraordinary statement. They +still called him "sheriff." + +"Let's give him a trial," Lafe plead loudly; "let's try each of these +men in turn. This man I've got here--" + +He broke off, afraid to proceed further lest the swift rage of the mob +include Baptismo also, and neither man secure justice. Once started, and +two might swing as lightly as one. + +"Why," bawled a man close to Johnson, "Bass, he done confessed. We done +made him." + +"You've made a mistake--" said Lafe, but they swept by him. + +In the turmoil Baptismo edged off. Perceiving it, Johnson stuck a gun to +his head and ordered him to ride in front or there would be no trial nor +any chance for justice--simply a speedy arraignment before the Judgment +Seat for Baptismo. Then he urged his horse into the thickest of the mob +and, despite some rough handling, cut the rope by which the prisoner was +being dragged. + +"Men," he cried, "if you hang him, you've got to put me out of the way +first. This man never killed Jerry Sellers." + +Not one man in a hundred but would have been taken at his word. They +hesitated, but the sheriff sat his horse coolly in the midst of it all, +and the half-breed clung at his knee. It was impossible to argue against +the outcry, or to obtain anything coherent from the medley of shouts. + +In his agony of suspense Baptismo drew a pair of dice from the pocket +of his chaps and began to click them in his hand. It was characteristic +of the half-breed that he should be able to smile brilliantly upon the +crowd even when most fearful. The sheriff saw the dice. His face lighted +and he thrust forward again, shouting for quiet. + +"You say that Bass is guilty. You say he's confessed. I say that I've +got the murderer here. You want to hang Mordecai without a trial. I want +a trial--a trial for both--and that's all we'll need. Let's throw dice." + +It is probable that not more than four or five of the mob caught +Johnson's words, but they happened to be in the forefront, and when they +halted, progress was immediately arrested. + +"Throw dice?" one asked eagerly. "Thunderation, what for?" + +"You think this man killed Jerry Sellers. I know that Baptismo killed +him. I've got Baptismo here. Let the two of 'em throw dice to see which +is innocent. If Baptismo didn't kill him--why, he just couldn't throw +lowest." + +The leaders looked at one another. It was just such a suggestion as +appealed to their heated minds. They began to argue and Lafe breathed in +relief. When men start argument, action need not be feared immediately. +Gradually order was restored. Everybody waited on the man who held the +rope, who was spokesman. + +"I ain't so sure," said he, "that this'll prove anything. But we aim to +hang this feller Bass. You aim to hang that yellow-belly. If it's +agreeable to them, I reckon we cain't raise any objections. We'll have a +hanging anyhow, and Jerry'll rest easier." + +Baptismo still clicked the dice automatically. He wetted his lips and +assured them in a dry voice that this would be satisfactory to him and +eminently fair. Perhaps Baptismo was not unbiased. The dice were his, +and he knew that if held in a certain position in the palm of the hand, +they could be thrown to suit the needs of the player. + +Their minds diverted by the possibilities of this trial by luck, the +crowd fell in quickly with the suggestion. It savored of the rough +justice to which they were accustomed, and if the parties principally +concerned were willing, why should they withhold sanction to the ordeal? +Moreover, it gave an opportunity for divine intervention. + +Johnson got down from his horse and removed the rope from Mordecai's +neck. + +"Here, you! Wake up!" cried several, shaking him by the shoulders. +Somebody shoved a bottle to his lips and he groaned and speedily +revived. Then they explained to him as clearly as several tongues +talking at once could do, what the nature of the test was. + +"I reckon you'll hang me anyhow, if I don't?" he asked. + +They signified that such was their intent. + +"Then, of course, I'll throw," said he. "It ain't fair, but it's my only +chance." + +Bass was still too weak to realize fully what was transpiring. The mob +took no account of this, but surged forward to the spot originally +selected for the hanging. It was a tree, which grew back of a flat rock. +The advantage of this site was that the two could roll the dice on the +rock, and then the one who was guilty could be hanged from the tree +without further inconvenience. + +Lafe went ahead, piloting the two principals by the arms, one on each +side of him. He placed them side by side in front of the rock. The +half-breed picked up the dice. + +"One throw, or best out of three?" he inquired. + +There was a pause, while the crowd looked to Bass. + +"One will do as well as a hundred, I reckon," said he. + +Baptismo gave a grunt of satisfaction and shook the dice in his hand. +With a twist along his two first fingers he spun them on the rock. A +double six! Twelve! A long sigh came from the crowd, and then they all +began to talk. Somebody cheered. Assuredly this proved everything. A +double six was the highest that could be thrown. Baptismo could not be +beaten. True, his throw might be tied--so, too, an elephant might fly. +The odds against Bass seemed utterly hopeless. He looked at the dice +dully for a minute and then turned to Lafe. + +"I reckon I'm done for," said he, "but God knows I didn't do it." + +"If you did," Johnson said, his eyes troubled, "you fight mighty well +for a feller who'd stab in the back." + +And then, before them all, Bass fell on his knees beside the rock and +sank his face in his arms. None but Lafe knew that he was praying. The +crowd thought that he had fainted from weakness and sought to rouse him, +urging him to go on with the test. At last he rose. + +"It ain't fair," he said in a loud voice, "it isn't fair. And the dice +are loaded. But--well, I'll try. I'm innocent, and I reckon He'll see me +through, somehow." + +Saying this, Bass rattled the dice in his hand and clapped them down +with all his strength. So violent was his passion that they rolled off +the rock upon the ground. + +"The throw counts!" the crowd yelled--"the throw's got to count. He's +trying to gain time." + +Lafe bent to examine the dice. As he did so he began to shout +frantically, and he waved the crowd back. + +"Look there!" he yelled, and pointed to three pieces of ivory on the +ground. + +The force of Bass's throw had broken a dice. One of them registered a +six. The half of the other showed a six. And the broken half showed one. +The total was thirteen. He had done the impossible; he had beaten the +half-breed by a point. + +Baptismo gazed down at the fragments in stupefaction. His mouth was +open, but for a minute at least no sound came from it. Then he +whispered: "It's the judgment of God." + +He collapsed and huddled in an abject heap, clasping Lafe's knees. And +in that position he sobbed out his confession. Yes, he had killed +Sellers--killed him there by the spring. They had long been enemies, and +Sellers had insulted him in front of Florence Steel. He had followed +when Jerry went to the spring. Sellers was singing. Sellers had angered +the girl and she urged him to pick a quarrel. When he struck, Florence +was coming down the path close behind. She saw it all, for she was quite +close. He threw away the knife--he had found it--and ran to the barn. +There he saw Bass coming from the bushes beside the spring. He knew of +Mordecai's quarrel with Sellers, and when he perceived that Bass was +about to ride off, he resolved to stay at the ranch. + +"I reckon," said Lafe, as he and Bass moved along the homeward trail +that night, "I reckon you'd best leave Florence be, Mordecai. What do +you think? Seems to me she set more store by that feller swinging back +there." + +"Don't," Bass entreated. "Yes, I reckon she did, Lafe. She must have +loved him a heap." + +"Women are queer," said Lafe. + +"Say," he said suddenly again, "if you were in the bushes there, you +must have seen the killing. Why didn't you speak out?" + +His companion flushed and looked uncomfortable. Luckily it was dark. + +"No, I didn't see who stabbed him, at all. I didn't see Baptismo there. +I only saw Florence coming along the path. And I'd lent her my knife, +and--" + +Both were silent a long time. Their ponies went steadily forward, their +riders' legs occasionally touching. Finally Bass roused. + +"What beats me," he said, "is how you happened to pick on Baptismo." + +"Why," said Lafe, in a satisfied voice, "that was simple. I happened to +sing that song. You know--'Oh, bury me not'--the one poor ol' Jerry was +singing when Baptismo sneaked up behind. I was shuffling the cards and +happened to look up sudden. And when I saw his face, I knew right +away." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +RESPONSIBILITY SITS HEAVILY ON LAFE + + +"It's a wonder," said Johnson to his wife one day, "it's a wonder we +ain't never heard anything from Steve Moffatt." + +She looked up from her sewing in curiosity. "Surely you don't want to +hear from him, do you? I declare, one would think, to hear you talk, +that you were sorry." + +Lafe did not dispute this, but got down on his knees that his son might +mount and ride him. Lafe, Jr., was pleased to consider his father a +bucking bronco on these occasions and used to dig his heels gleefully +into his ribs. Time--two months after Mordecai Bass and the half-breed +shook dice against death, and they hanged Baptismo to a stout tree. + +The boss of the Anvil freed himself from his rider by pitching him over +his shoulder, and rose and dusted his knees. + +"Well, anyhow," he said, "you remember what he done wrote to me when me +and you were married. He said 'adios,' you mind. And he told me he +wouldn't bother me until after the honeymoon." + +"I remember well enough. What of it?" + +"It's a mighty long time since the honeymoon," said her husband, shaking +his head dubiously. + +Hetty laughed, but the look she turned on Lafe was not wholly devoid of +anxiety. For this was but one of a series of incidents. His behavior and +recent trend of thought worried her. Since Jerry's tragic death, he +seemed another individual. Lafe had grown subject to fits of depression +and frequently gave utterance to the gloomiest forebodings. What had he +on his mind? Nothing--not a thing in the world. Yet he continued to hint +darkly that it would be just their luck if he fell ill, or were killed, +leaving Hetty and the boy alone to starve. + +"Nonsense!" cried Hetty, after she had listened patiently to several +repetitions of this obsession. "We're doing fine. You've got this place +and six hundred dollars saved. And Mr. Horne pays you a hundred and +twenty-five a month, and Bob owes you three hundred--" + +Lafe gave a hollow laugh. "Yes," said he, "Bob owes me three hundred. +Ha-ha! That's a fine asset--what Bob owes--ain't it?" + +"So you think he's going to rob you? Say it. Say it right out. What did +you lend it to him for, then?" she exclaimed. + +"Because you done worried me into it," he retorted, but perceiving that +he had offended her, he began to weaken, and ended by apologizing. +Although he scoffed at the prospect of his brother-in-law ever repaying +the loan, it is my belief that Johnson had full confidence in Bob and +would have resented with bodily injury any imputation from an outsider. + +"If a man can't roast his friends, who can?" said he once, when I +remonstrated with him concerning a criticism of Ferrier. "My friends +knock me, I reckon. If they don't, then they can't think such a heap of +me. No, sir. Bob's behaved like a no-account. Why, man alive, I had to +let him have forty dollars more yesterday. What do you think of +that--hey?" + +Every one of his acquaintance had remarked the transformation in Johnson +and all of us were at a loss. The change was revolutionary. It had never +been my fortune to meet with an individual so reckless of the morrow as +Lafe had been before marriage. Not only had he gambled daily with his +life, but had held to it that money was to spend, and the prospect of +poverty never appeared to enter into his calculations. Indeed, he had +scorned those who showed reluctance to toss their hard-won earnings to +the winds. Himself had always been penniless or in debt, but he had gone +his way cheerily, indulging no worry over his plight. + +Then he married, and now he talked like this: "I swan, Dan, when I think +of what I married Hetty on, it sure makes me shake like a leaf. It's a +wonder we didn't starve. A man's pluckier or he don't think of these +things when he's younger--don't you reckon? I'd never dare do it over +again now." + +"Pluckier? No. Simply irresponsible--that's all. A lot of 'em hope for +a miracle--these young people," said I. + +"And damn my eyes if they don't usually get it," Lafe said. "It's most +amazing how things will turn up to help people who can't help +themselves--just when you think you're done for, too." + +"Then why are you worrying so now?" + +"Am I worrying?" he asked, looking sharply at me. + +I could see he was displeased, and consequently dropped the subject. But +Horne and others told me that Johnson was much concerned about his +health merely because he had contracted a cold. This was to them a +symptom of hopeless effeminacy. + +On a night when Lafe and I were riding under myriads of stars, and a +drink of mezcal had contributed to warm the confidential impulses +begotten by a long day together in the saddle, the boss inquired +abruptly whether I would look after Lafe, Jr., in the event of anything +happening to him. I gaped at him. + +"What on earth's going to happen to you? You're as healthy as a goat." + +"Dan, it makes me ashamed, but, consarn it, I lie awake nights often, +wondering what would become of Hetty and the kid if I was to be killed +or got hurt or fell sick. We ain't got enough saved to--" + +"Oh, pshaw!" I protested. "Forget it. This isn't like you, Lafe." + +Really anxious, I took the opportunity to mention to Hetty that her +husband was suffering from indigestion and that it behooved her to get +him fit again. + +"Do you know," said she, "I've been wondering if that wasn't what ailed +him. A man is only half a man when his stomach is out of order. He's got +to get his meals all proper or he won't amount to anything. Thank you, +Dan, I'll attend to it." + +Old man Horne put a different interpretation on Lafe's peculiar nervous +dread. Very condescendingly he explained to me that, being a bachelor, I +could not be expected to probe the mystery, but the fact was that every +married man was seized some time with this species of anxiety. + +"That is," said Horne, "if he's conscientious and worth his salt. Some +of 'em, they never do get rid of it. It isn't cowardice. He's just +afraid for his family." + +"But Johnson has no real cause for worry. Not like a lot of others. Look +at him." + +"Sure not. That's why he's worrying. He's got things too easy, the +rascal. If he had some real troubles, probably he wouldn't fret at all." + +Winter dragged along--a winter of blustering winds, of abrupt, dead +calms and terrible cold. The cold did not last, however. Some snow fell +in the hills, and under a bright sun ran down in rills to the river. +Later, the rains held off and the grass shriveled. The country turned a +pale brown. + +We never look for the first rains to wash the land until July--for some +unexplained reason everybody sets the date at July Fourth. But in early +June numberless clouds massed in tumbled glory above the mountains and +the rain drove down in sheets. Three days later the country showed green +and pure, the trees put forth new leaves and the ocatilla flared +turkey-red on the ridges. + +"The cattle are looking fine," Lafe reported. "Their hides are loose. +We've had a good calf crop. It'll run to seventy per cent, Horne. And +there ain't no worms, or likely will be." + +"Start the roundup next week," said Horne. + +Accordingly, the Anvil outfit gathered its horses, packed its chuckwagon +with food and bedding, and set out for Zacaton Bottom, there to pitch +the first camp. They would not reach the mountain pastures, where the +wild steers roamed, until late in the autumn. + +The horses were on edge from their winter's freedom. One in every three +were broncos just broken. What the Anvil buster facetiously called a +broken horse was one that had had three saddles. After those, he was +turned into the remuda--not bridle-wise, full of fight and vicious from +memory of what the buster had imposed on him. As a result, we had five +or six contests of endurance between riders and mounts each morning. One +of the boys was thrown and had his collar bone broken. + +As boss, Johnson had the privilege of topping the remuda for his +string--that is to say, he had first choice of all horses. Yet it was +generally a point of honor not to appropriate all the gentle ones; +also, not to assign all the bad ones to one particular hand; and it is +always a point of honor to retain those selected, and ride them, +whatever characteristics they may develop afterwards. + +In Lafe's mount was a big J A sorrel that had roved the fastnesses of +Paloduro in Texas. The buster had christened him Casey Jones, after the +celebrated engineer, because of the desperate quality of his courage. +Now, by reason of Lafe's recently developed nervousness concerning +himself, I could not repress my impatience for the day to arrive for +Casey Jones' saddling--the horses are worked in rotation and, being +entirely grass-fed, each can only be used about once in three days. + +In a chill dawn the roper called to Johnson: "Want Casey Jones?" + +"No-oo. Catch me Tommy," said the boss. + +Nobody but the roper, the horse wrangler and myself marked this +weakening. We did not even comment on it among ourselves, but I was much +cast down. Of course no man after he has got beyond twenty-five years, +or has otherwise arrived at some degree of sense, wants to ride a +bucking horse; but when it is put up to him, when it becomes his duty, +then the man who shirks is discredited. Yet none of us could think of +Lafe as really shirking. Perhaps he had some excellent reason. Much more +of this, though, and there would be a lessening of his authority. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +BUT THE BOSS AGAIN PROVES HIS METTLE + + +He mounted Tommy, and we rounded up some foothills, where every patch of +weed and mesquite gave up a bunch of cattle. While two of his men were +working the herd on the roundup ground, Lafe sat Tommy on the outskirts, +making one of the cordon of riders that surrounded the cattle and kept +them in. He was talking to a strayman from the Lazy L, who worked with +our wagon in order to gather the cattle of his brand which had wandered +from their range. + +Two bulls started a fight. They were Herefords of tremendous bulk, and +when they crashed together in the center of the herd, the mass split +apart. Fully a score of bulls had been wandering up and down picking +fights, so Lafe and the strayman paid no especial attention. + +However, it is the essence of folly to ignore bulls in combat if the +combat be anywhere near you. None knew this better than Lafe. The bull +that finds himself getting the worst of it will invariably break free, +swerve aside and dash at the nearest object, as a diversion. Usually his +foe goes in hot pursuit. + +The two Herefords pawed and bawled and rumbled and butted. Johnson and +the cowboy talked, lolling in the saddle. The bulls drew off from each +other a few steps, bellowed and crashed head-on. The impact was +terrific. One of them rocketed out of the press of cattle straight at +Lafe. + +It happened that Tommy--finding that no work faced him--was taking it +easy, with one hip down and his eyes half shut. The bull caught the +horse under the belly and hurled him and his rider a good ten feet +through the air. Lafe struck the ground partly under his mount, his +right leg held by Tommy's shoulders. The horse did not rise. He was +disemboweled. + +The cowboys spurred to his aid and dragged Tommy off him. The bulls had +trotted back to the herd and were now engaged in thundering challenges +to other range monarchs. Lafe stood up painfully. He put his right foot +to the ground, very carefully. A smile of intense satisfaction came over +his face. + +"Nothing broken," he said--"just shaken up. Jim-in-ee, but I'm sure +lucky." + +He turned to Tommy, wheezing on the ground and trying weakly to rise. + +"Poor li'l devil. Poor ol' Tommy," he said pityingly. After a brief +examination, he shot him between the eyes in order to spare him useless +suffering. + +The boss was very blue throughout the day, and I knew it was for the +horse. Tommy had been a pet, and every one of us felt what it had cost +Lafe. "Poor li'l devil"--that was all, but Johnson was of the kind who +would hardly have said as much audibly for a human being. + +Back of his grief I detected a great relief. It was almost a new sense +of freedom, revealed in his eyes and his altered manner towards his men. +The old quiet authority was his again. Just what he felt was shown when +he said to me that night, "I reckon if a big ol' bull can't even hurt +me, that I've got a few years to live yet awhile. Hey, Dan?" + +"You're whistling. That was a close call, though, Lafe." + +"If it had been Casey Jones now--" he began, but something in my face +stopped him. + +"Did you notice?" he asked, without embarrassment. + +"Yes. Why did you do it?" + +"I got to thinking about Hetty and the kid. And then I quit--quit +cold--laid down. Just watch me ride ol' Casey Jones to-morrow, though. +I'll sure clean that fine gentleman." + +I watched him. We all did. It was a joy to behold. The sorrel was in +high fettle and the ground was hard. So furiously did Casey Jones +pitch--squalling through his gaping mouth at every jump--that one of his +hoofs was split in two. Lafe sat him firmly, his poise yielding to every +new move of the bronco, and he shouted in delight as he plied quirt and +spur. Time and again Casey Jones leaped straight into the air and turned +back under his rider. Johnson's head would snap back, but his seat was +never shaken, and he raked the sorrel from shoulder to flank-cinch. At +last Casey Jones stopped, his legs wide apart, his head drooped and his +breath whistling. The Anvil men gazed in silence, but with deep +approval. + +"Crackee," said a cowboy to me, "the boss is sure some peeler." + +"He certainly hasn't forgotten how." + +"Me and some of the boys," he went on, "we'd been figuring as how Lafe +had sort of lost his nerve. It seemed queer, too, but he's been mighty +low-sperited. Did you notice? I reckon that was just a mistake, don't +you? It must have been." + +"A big mistake," I agreed. "He was just a bit worried. That was all. +He'll never be that way again." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +HOW A MOFFATT HENCHMAN WAS OUSTED + + +Another episode during this roundup gave Lafe a lasting reputation among +cowmen for cool judgment. + +The outfit was working the foothills country. In nearly all the draws of +this region nesters had settled, for one could grow corn and alfalfa in +abundance, and some had laid out small peach orchards. They farmed in +quarter-sections, and generally six or eight miles separated the farms. +Some of them owned a few head of cattle, which grazed on the open range +with the herds of the big companies. + +Consequently, when the Anvil wagon went on its roundup and began +gathering cows and calves from valley and hill and brakes, it was joined +at various points by nesters. They came to see that the calves belonging +to any of their cows that might be in a roundup got the proper brand; +and they received free chuck, and worked as members of the outfit. + +Late one afternoon a horseman ambled into camp and alighted leisurely +close to the wagon. He left his mount standing almost on top of the pots +whilst he secured a match from a drawer in the chuckbox. Now, it is +contrary to camp tradition to bring one's horse within a certain radius. +Fat Dave stuck his arms akimbo and surveyed the visitor with +ill-concealed rage. + +"What for you don't hitch him to the coffee pot?" he sneered. "Perhaps +you'd best put that ol' skate in my bed." + +"Pshaw!" said the other, laughing. "I clean forgot, Dave." + +He led the beast beyond the woodpile and returned to the fire. Dave was +lifting some coals with a shovel, to put under a pot. + +"Going to be with us, Ben?" he inquired, considerably mollified. + +"I was sort of figuring on it." + +A long silence, while the cook spread live coals on top of the Dutch +oven wherein the bread was baking. + +"Why, I didn't know you run any cattle, Ben." + +"A few ol' cows. They're my nephew's," said the other. + +He squatted on a pile of bedding and engaged the cook in conversation. A +close observer might have remarked that Dave was wary in his replies--at +least, wary for Dave, who was accustomed to call a spade a damned +shovel. + +"How're the boys off for beddin'?" asked the visitor. + +"Right scarce. These nights get right cold now, I can tell you." + +"Somebody'll find room for me, don't you reckon?" + +Dave considered a moment. + +"You can sleep with me, Ben," he said finally. + +When the boys rode in to supper, tired and quiet from a punishing day, +the cook seized an opportunity to speak to the boss. Lafe was adding up +figures in a tally-book on the rim of a wagon wheel. + +"Say, Lafe," began the cook, "this here nester, Ben Walsh, that just +come in--" + +"Well?" said Johnson. + +"What's he doing here? What does he want? That's what I'd like to know. +Hey?" + +"He came to get his cattle, I reckon." + +"Cattle?" Dave snorted. "Him? Why, he never had even a dogie calf. No, +sir; no, Lafe, that Walsh is a bad hombre. He's mean. Meaner'n poison. +None of the Moffatts ain't no meaner." + +"The Moffatts?" Lafe repeated, pausing with his pencil in midair. +"What's this nester got to do with Steve Moffatt or his kin?" + +"Why," said the cook, "this Ben done married Moffatt's sister. He sure +thinks he's some gunman, too, Ben does--most as good as Steve." + +The boss was very thoughtful as they ate their meal. He spoke civilly to +Walsh and discussed with him the condition of cattle and grass, and the +water supply. He even offered Dave an extra blanket on learning that the +cook had proffered the visitor a bed. + +During the work next day, as Lafe was dispersing his riders, he stopped +to ask of Walsh: "Where do you figure you're most like to find yours, +Mr. Walsh?" + +The nester mentioned a stretch of chaparral, and Johnson assigned him to +that strip. He noted that Walsh performed his tasks indolently. Once, +too, while they were working the herd, he caught a criticism of his +methods that the nester was voicing to a cowboy. Lafe did not show any +resentment, although the tone employed was raised purposely that he +might hear, but bode his time. + +A couple of days passed and the boss became aware that he was being made +a butt by the nester. Malcontents can be found in every outfit. So there +were some in the Anvil who listened to Walsh's low-voiced talk and +joined readily in the laugh. After supper on the third evening, one of +the old hands told Lafe that Walsh was "knocking" him. + +"I know," said Johnson. + +"But it hurts you with the boys," the other protested. "They don't work +so good. Why, to-day, when you put Walsh on day herd and he went to the +spring instead, a lot of 'em laughed and joked." + +"Sure," said Lafe, evenly, "I know. I'm just waiting. Thanks, all the +same, Mit." + +Unvarying civility for another day on Johnson's part; on Walsh's, a +cautious expansion of his policy of weakening discipline. The next night +somebody inaugurated a game of pitch on a saddle-blanket by lantern +light. Although the boss had not absolutely tabooed gambling, of late +he had discountenanced it among the Anvil boys on the roundup. He was +about to order the game stopped, when he perceived that Walsh was one of +the players. Upon that he walked over and asked to be allowed to take a +hand. + +The game ran with varying fortune. The players praised or cursed the +cards with gusto, according to their luck, as is the way with +cowboys--except Johnson, who won or lost with equal imperturbability. +During a pause, someone told a story. Next deal, Walsh capped it with +another. Just as he reached the point, he paused suddenly to examine his +cards. + +"And what," said Lafe, whose mind was on other things, "what did the +girl do then?" + +Walsh promptly sprang the point, a time-worn catch which under any other +circumstances Lafe would have readily foreseen. The majority of the +spectators around the blanket broke into crackling laughter. A few kept +silent, for there was a venom, a calculated malice in Walsh's tone which +did not escape the older men. The boss felt it, and for a moment his +eyes held Walsh's steadily. Both wore guns, as did every man during +roundup. Then Lafe threw back his head and laughed with such unaffected +heartiness that the nester seemed puzzled. Throughout the remainder of +the game he looked rather crestfallen. + +Dave was cooking dinner about noon. The nester lolled in camp, having +advanced a plea of sickness to avoid work that morning. When the sun was +past its height, the outfit galloped in. Behind came Johnson, his horse +moving at a sober walk. He was dragging a cow at the end of his rope. +Arrived close to the fire, he ordered Mit to heel the animal, and when +she was stretched out, borrowed a sharp knife from the cook. Then he +went to the cow's head and took hold of her tongue. + +"Land's sake, Lafe," cried Dave, "what do you aim to do now?" + +"Split her tongue," said Johnson. + +"Oh," said the cook. Everybody seemed satisfied. + +"Split her tongue?" Walsh echoed, raising himself from a tarpaulin. +"That's a new one on me. What're you going to do that for?" + +"So she can lick both sides of her calf at once," Lafe drawled, and +released the animal. + +A perfect gale of laughter swept from the Anvil outfit. + +"Damn my fat haid! Damn my ol' fat haid!" bellowed the cook. + +A fig for Walsh and his prowess as a gunfighter! Dave feared no man. He +went his way, grouchy and unreckoning, secure in the sanctity that +hedges a cook. Besides, if that failed him, he had usually a pothook +handy. Now, he threw himself flat on his back and kicked his heels in +the air. + +One must give Walsh his due. He had pluck to spare, but ridicule is the +hardest thing to face in life. Besides, what earthly use was there in +defying a whole outfit? He gave a sickly smile and returned to his +tarpaulin. + +To him came Lafe after dinner. + +"How're you feeling?" he asked. + +"Better." + +"Well," said the boss, "we're moving to-day, Walsh. You don't seem to +have found any of your stuff. It's certain you won't, where we're +heading. So I reckon it'd save you trouble if you got moving." + +Walsh eyed him expectantly. + +"All right," he said at last. "You're the boss." + +In this manner was discipline restored among the Anvil men. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +NEWS FROM BUFFALO JIM + + + Rub-a-dub-dub, + Three men in a tub, + The butcher, the baker, + The candlestick maker; + They all jumped out of a holler pertater. + Rub-a-dub-dub. + +"Do you call them your prayers?" asked Lafe sternly. "I done told you to +get to bed more'n a hour ago, son. I swan I can't figure what your ma's +thinking of. Now, drag it." + +The boy turned a confident grin on his sire and continued his march +through the house, rub-a-dub-dubbing to the best that was in him. He was +attired lightly in a chemise, and was accordingly able to give an +unhampered illustration of how the candlestick maker and the other +tradesmen emerged from the spud. Hetty had gone to prepare his bed; +returning, she made a dive for the fugitive and bore him, struggling, to +his unwelcome nest. There she was obliged to growl over him in imitation +of a big old bear, before Lafe, Jr., became reconciled. + +Johnson listened with scant patience to their further discourse inside +the bedroom. + +"That ain't the way to learn the boy his prayers," he interrupted. +"Bless _Mister_ Shortredge. Mister! That's a fine way for a li'l feller +to pray, ain't it? Call him Jim or Buf'lo, Hetty. Call him Jim or +Buf'lo. I reckon the Almighty don't know Jim as Mister." + +"I guess the Almighty ain't such a close friend of his, anyhow, seeing +as he's a friend of yours," retorted Mrs. Johnson. + +Lafe revolved this in his mind. By the time he had hit upon an apt +rejoinder, opportunity for its use had fled; but he made a mental note +thereof, resolved to steer the talk around some day to the same theme. + +Early next morning Jeff Hardin came up the trail, with a letter for +Johnson. Letters are rare arrivals in that region and a certain +formality attaches to their receipt. This one Lafe accepted with seeming +unconcern, and having looked long at the handwriting and turned it over +and over, he called his wife. To her Lafe opined that Buffalo must have +written to him. Meanwhile Jeff loitered near, flicking the reins on his +horse's back, intent on catching anything of interest that might crop +up. + +"He wouldn't never take a prize, Buf'lo wouldn't," said Lafe critically, +"but this looks a bit shaky, even for him." + +"Well, let's open it," Hetty suggested. + +It took her husband at least ten minutes to scan the brief page, +although famous for the ease with which he read and spelled; but this +was due to the fact that Shortredge despised punctuation and had broad +theories of capitals, into which the sense of the subject-matter did not +enter at all. So there existed always a confusion as to where his +sentences began and where they left off. But Johnson finished at last, +and then he turned to Hetty with a hopeless air. + +"Well, if that wouldn't knock you deader'n a rat. Here he owes me +fifty-seven dollars already, and he's been owing it for nigh on a +million years," he said, "yet he wants--" + +He broke off, perceiving that Jeff lingered. "Won't you get down and +visit, Jeff?" he asked. + +"No-oo, I wouldn't choose to, thanks, Lafe," said Jeff; "I got to drift. +Did you say he owed you fifty-seven, Lafe? Well, adios, you two. Take +care of yourself, Mrs. Johnson. Come on, boy, and I'll give you a ride +as far as the spring." + +Hardin continued his journey toward Badger, and told them there how Jim +Shortredge had applied to Lafe Johnson for a loan of two hundred +dollars, although he had been owing him close to a thousand for seven +years. + +"Well, what're you going to do about it?" said Hetty, when the courier +had departed. + +"Do about it? Forget it--that's what I'm going to do." + +"We couldn't have him here with little Lafe round," Hetty went on +reflectively. "It wouldn't be safe. No, we couldn't. Could we?" + +"Well, I should reckon not. I should rather reckon not. Where'd we put +him?" + +Lafe was highly indignant for the remainder of the forenoon. What sort +of an idiot did Buffalo take him to be, anyhow? It was all very well for +a man to use his friend's money and time as his own so long as both were +single, but when a man married, his family had first claim. If Jim could +not get that through his head without having it pounded in, Lafe was +sorry, but he would have to make it clear, notwithstanding. Send him +fifty dollars--had Hetty ever in her life heard anything to equal that? +Here was a feller who could easily earn seventy-five dollars a month--a +thick, stout man--and just because he was a trifle sick, he had to send +off to borrow and to ask if he could visit. It was weak-kneed, Lafe +called it. He had really never suspected this propensity in Shortredge. + +"Many's the time I've helped him out," he said, reverting to the subject +after dinner, "and what do I get? A man owes it to a friend before he +gets married, Hetty. Afterwards, he--" + +"He what?" + +"Well, he ain't got any friends," said her husband. + +His irritation continued throughout the afternoon and he brusquely +refused to take his son up in front when he rode away to Horne's +headquarters. It was growing dark when he returned and the cattle were +drifting up the Canon to water. Johnson noticed each cow and calf with a +shrewd eye, and determined to spread more salt in the morning. His son +came galloping to meet him, and Lafe swung the boy to the fork of the +saddle. He was still moody, however, and his wife observed that he did +not eat with his customary appetite. Finally he pushed the plate from +him. + +"I declare that stew's no fit food for a man, Hetty. Can't we never have +nothing else?" + +"You've had stew twice in three weeks. That's what you've had," Hetty +returned, bridling. "What's got into you, anyhow? You're worse than a +big ol' bear." + +"Ugh-ugh-ugh-ugh!" her son growled, making a persistent effort to worry +his father's leg with his teeth. Lafe pried his offspring loose and set +him on his knee. The boy wrestled and thumped him, and gradually Lafe +softened under the play. + +"I mind once, me and Buf'lo went for eleven days on jerky and tobacco; +more tobacco than jerky," he said, considering his son with a smile. +"Nothing ever seemed to hurt us in them days, me and Buf'lo. Down in the +Baccanochi, it was, where we went for some cattle. And of all the sorry +steers, you never seen the like, Hetty. Honest, they couldn't throw a +shadow. But we got some beef there. I ain't never tasted beef like it +since--no, ma'am." + +"Ho, haven't you?" Hetty sniffed. + +His usual even spirits seemed to return during the after-supper smoke. +He sat on the porch and listened to the cows lowing contentedly around +the tanks. Some animal went light-footed through the underbrush of the +slope opposite, and Lafe, Jr., was morally certain it was a wildcat; +but, then, he never failed to detect bears and wolves and mountain lions +in the least stirring of a twig. The dark deepened and a coyote yelped +against the Canon's walls. The baby announced his intention of catching +the prowler on the morrow with a pinch of salt, and by the exercise of +cunning and stealth. + +Hetty came out on the porch to fill the canteen and to warn little Lafe +that bedtime was close upon him. The boy denied it vehemently. + +"I mind once, when me and Buf'lo were sleeping at the ol' Palomino," her +husband told her; "just a night like to this it was, and a couple of +line riders come along with a deck of cards--" + +"That's all you need to say," Hetty said. "You never did understand the +game." + +Shortly afterward she took the child from his father and put him to bed, +Lafe, Jr., howling that he was wide awake and nothing under heaven would +make him go. Yet he was asleep in a twinkling. His mother tiptoed out of +the room. When she reached the porch, she gave vent to the long sigh a +tired woman will give when the day's work is done and she can relax, and +she began to rock in the wicker-chair. Her husband was walking +meditatively near a tall cottonwood. He appeared to be pacing off the +ground. + +"What're you doing?" she called. + +"Nothing. Nothing much." But when she joined him, he coughed and looked +foolish. + +"Now," said Hetty, locking both arms about one of his and leaning +against him, "tell me." + +"Why," Lafe said, "I was just sort of studying how a tent would fit here +right snug. It's a slick place for a tent." + +Hetty squeezed his arm and looked at him with eyes of perfect +understanding. + +"Do you want to see what I wrote to him?" she whispered. + +"Who? Buf'lo? You wrote to Buf'lo? When did you write to Buf'lo? Well, I +swan." + +It is best at this juncture to stare for signs of the marauding coyote, +or to gaze fixedly at the evening star blazing in line with the chimney, +because those two often chose to forget that they had been married five +years. + +This is what Hetty showed Lafe, bending over his shoulder as he read it +by the light of a lamp. + + DEAR FRIEND: + + My husband showed me your letter and I write to say we will be + glad to have you come any time and stay with us as long as you + like. + + He has talked a whole lot about you and little Lafe always + remembers you in his prayers. He don't like to say his prayers + he's like his father. We have a nice home in the cannon and it + will do you good it is so high up here. + + Yours respectfully, + MRS. JOHNSON. + + P.S. My husband is writing to you, too. + +Lafe took this letter and enclosed one of his own composition, together +with several very worn bills which he extracted from a can behind the +kitchen clock. And just after daybreak he started for Badger to the end +that the letter might be carried to a railway town by the stage driver. +While he was making some purchases of flour and groceries that Hetty had +itemized on a piece of wrapping paper as an aid to memory, one of the +loungers remarked to Johnson that he heard Buffalo Jim had had the nerve +to try to borrow some money. It puzzled him how some people would beat +their way through the world. + +"It does, does it?" Lafe answered, in a nutmeg-grater voice. "Well, it +oughtn't to. Any time ol' Buf'lo wants anything, he knows where he can +get it quick. Understand? Who done told you that? The man who told you +that was a liar. And if there's anybody here got something to get off +his mind about Buf'lo, now's the time. I'm a-listening." + +Nobody had anything to get off his mind, it would seem. Having given +ample opportunity, Johnson gathered up his parcels, tied them carefully +to various parts of the saddle, and departed for home. He did not regard +the incident in Badger of sufficient importance to communicate to his +wife. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +HE ARRIVES TO VISIT THE JOHNSONS + + +Shortredge arrived in a buckboard, driven by Jeff Hardin, toward the +close of a July day. They were visible a mile off, but Johnson did not +step down from the porch until they pulled up. Then he went slowly to +meet them. It took a long time for Buffalo to get clear of the +conveyance, he was so shaky and uncertain on his legs. + +"Hello, Lafe." + +"Hello, Buf'lo." + +They clasped hands and regarded each other uncomfortably. Then +Shortredge paid the driver and the two friends walked to the porch, +where Hetty was waiting to welcome the visitor. Such was the greeting +between them after five years. + +"Poor feller," said Johnson, when they had retired that night. "He's +looking worse'n a ghost." + +"Oh, Lafe, when I look at him I want to cry. To think we ever--" + +"He was the stoutest man I ever set eyes on, once, ol' Buf'lo was. But +he never would take no care of himself. That, and ridin' broncs, it sort +of stove him all up, Hetty. I'm sure glad I done asked him here." + +A tent was reared on the knoll under the cottonwood, and in it Jim +slept. He scorned the cot which Johnson had procured and spread his +blankets on the ground, as had been his wont in the days of his +strength. There were several spare saddlers, and when he was feeling +especially strong, Buffalo would accompany Lafe on some of his rides, +but that happened very seldom. They never spoke much when together, +which was as it had always been, but seemed quite satisfied to jog along +side by side. At long intervals one would comment on the condition of +the cattle they passed. + +Within two weeks the invalid began to gain in weight. By that time he +and Lafe, Jr., were staunch friends. For hours together he would build +dirt forts under the boy's direction, never seeming to tire of the +changes in ground plan that the child's whims demanded. And the toys he +contrived to fashion, with no other tools than a jackknife, a stick and +handkerchief! Yet his playmate imposed reservations on their +companionship which sorely puzzled Lafe, Jr. For one thing, he would +never dandle the boy on his knee, as his father did, and he laughingly +dissuaded him from the rough-and-tumble tests of strength and skill in +which the boy was accustomed to imitate a bull, or an outlaw steer, or +some equally impulsive creature. Then, too, Hetty had become peculiarly +insistent on the wording of her son's nightly supplications. Indeed, +Shortredge's name became the feature of his prayer. + +"You're looking a heap better, Buf'lo," Johnson told him. It was the +first time he had referred directly to Shortredge's health. + +"Shore. I feel a heap better too, Lafe. The cough don't bother me much +at all now. But I done bust a valve or something--run away to your ma, +Lafe, boy--I forget what the doc said now, for certain"--Jim was staring +off to the horizon--"it's liable to hit me sudden." + +"Hell, no! Doctors don't know nothing." + +"Shore not," Buffalo agreed, with a short laugh. "Don't you say nothing +to Hetty, Lafe. I'll face the music." + +Of nights they would sit on the porch--Buffalo, Hetty and Lafe--the +child scuffling with the dog at their feet, in the last spasmodic energy +that foreruns infantile sleep. And they would watch the light fade in +the Canon. The cows came slowly to water, calling one to the other. +There were soft creepings amid the leaves. A mocking-bird sang in a +hackberry tree. It was all very peaceful. + +"You can just make out the top of The Hatter from here, Lafe. Ever +notice?" Jim asked. + +"You can see him mighty plain sometimes, Buf'lo. Do you mind how we used +to wonder what was on top of that ol' mountain, me and you? He looks so +ragged up there. That was when you were punching on the Lazy L." + +"I reckon I do. I've always sort of hankered to climb to the top of The +Hatter," Buffalo went on--"all my life I have. But I never did. You-all +know how that is. They tell me you can see for ninety miles off'n the +peak. It must be right pretty." + +"We'll go some day," said Johnson. + +Hetty caught her breath and glanced quickly at the visitor, but both men +appeared perfectly matter-of-fact. She said: "Weren't you sick last +night, Mr. Buf'lo? I thought I heard you." + +"Yes, ma'am. Nothing to speak of. Just a li'l spell. Sometimes they hit +me and then ag'in they don't." + +It was dry the next six weeks. It was also scorching hot. The country +began to look wan, then lifeless. On a night in early October a rider +came to Johnson's door with word from Horne that the range was on fire. +A blaze eight miles wide was sweeping the far shoulder of The Hatter. +The messenger delivered this information in a subdued, expressionless +voice, sitting his foaming horse in front of the porch, to Lafe inside +the house. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +A NIGHT RIDE AND DEATH OF BUFFALO JIM + + +"I'll go round up the pasture for you," he ended. "Will Nugget do? I kin +catch him easiest." + +As Johnson was saddling, he told Hetty through the window that perhaps +he would not be back for a week. + +"Say, Lafe"--Shortredge was at his elbow, plucking the sleeve of his +shirt--"say, I want to go along." + +"I don't reckon you'd ought, Buf'lo," Lafe answered. He spoke in a mild +tone, as though the request were a very natural one. "It's all of thirty +miles and you know what fighting fire means. There won't be nothing to +eat but canned tomatoes and mighty li'l water and--" + +"Man alive, I know that," said Shortredge, "but I want to go along." + +Johnson coiled his rope and hung it carefully from the fork of the +saddle. "No, I don't think you'd ought to go, Buf'lo." + +"Why not? Listen to me, Lafe." He began to plead, his manner nervously +insistent. "If it's going to come, it's going to come, and a lot of good +dodging will do. Give me a chance, and not--say, I don't want to crawl +off like a sick rat. Me and you never used to run away, did we? Well, +I'd kind of like--I'd kind of like to be on top of a good horse." + +"Me and you both." + +"Come on, Lafe. Go get ol' Scrapper for me. I can stand it all right. +Let's see The Hatter together, like we aimed to do. The sun'll be just +busting himself when we get there." + +"Well, you know what it means. Go get your saddle. Whatever you say, +goes," said Johnson. + +Ten horsemen met them where the path split, the one to the right +sweeping upward and around the rim of the giant mountain. They were in +ill-humor, for all had been roused from sleep and they knew what was +ahead. Therefore, not a word was exchanged as they dog-trotted in single +file. Sometimes only a pinpoint of light, when a cigarette glowed from a +long intake, showed where they moved. + +Rough and rocky was the trail. Shortredge came last, by Johnson's +directions, and the cowboy in front turned in the saddle from time to +time to ascertain that he followed in safety. He marveled much that Jim +should attempt this ride, but advice is the last thing his class will +obtrude. The night was black, but the western sky was a pale yellow, and +a broken line of red wavered intermittently above the farther slope of +The Hatter. + +Once Shortredge became conscious of something beside him and faced +toward it swiftly, but there was nothing there. He essayed a laugh. +"Pshaw! I'm shore getting foolish," he muttered. "My eyes, I expect." + +Twice after that he was moved to peer into the dark on his right hand. +Surely something rode there, hovering very near. Lafe dropped back from +his position at the head of the line, to satisfy himself about his +friend. + +"How goes it?" + +"Stronger'n the oldest man in the world," said Buffalo cheerily. + +Johnson ranged beside him for a short distance. The line wound ever +upward, in silence. Several times a horse's hoof clacked on rocks with +flare of sparks. At last: "Say, Lafe." + +"Well?" + +"I've been a-figuring that I must have given you and Hetty a right smart +of trouble. There ain't no way of knowing it from you-all, but I kind of +got the idea--" + +"You make me tired," said Johnson angrily. "What's wrong with you, +anyhow? You talk like an ol' woman." + +"It's right queer," Shortredge continued, "ain't it?" + +"What's queer?" + +"Why, me and you both starting out the same way. We used to sleep under +the same blankets, me and you did. And here you've got Hetty and li'l +Lafe--say, Lafe, there's one kid for you. He says to me only +yesterday--" + +"Look out for this drop," Johnson cautioned. + +"And I've got a bum heart and a bum lung. However, it's all in the game. +Hey, Lafe? A feller's got to grin and face the music. That's all there +is for him to do, I take it." + +"What you need," his friend remarked sagely, "is a drink. But we ain't +got any along. Now, take a brace and forget it, Buf'lo. Don't go talking +like a quitter. Just as soon as you're a mite stouter, me and you'll go +shares on that bunch of cattle we were looking over. I done had this in +my mind for a long time. I need a partner--need him bad, what with ol' +Horne's work coming on me more every day." + +Buffalo started to say something to this, but Johnson touched Nugget +with the spur and scrambled forward to the head of his men. They +continued to climb. Often they would see the shooting flames; again, +merely a dull glow revealed where the fire raged; and now they were +mounting the sheer walls of a canon, now dipping down the faces of +cliffs. A horse rolled into a gulch and crushed his rider's leg. Johnson +told off a man to look after the injured one. Another strayed from sight +and sound, and bawled frantically for twenty minutes before he caught up +with the party. Soon it was necessary to raise the cry of the night +trail in broken country. Lafe began it. + +"Here I go." He sent it weirdly behind him in a long yell. + +"Here I go." + +And, "Here I go" went down the line to the last man. + +Shortredge kept a firm seat and allowed the reins to swing loose. Well +he knew that Scrapper was more to be trusted in this work than the +guidance he or anybody else could give. + +"Here I go," came Johnson's halloo. + +"Here I go." + +"Here--I--go," Jim echoed. + +The sting of early morning was in the air, and often he shivered. Stare +at the rider in front as he might, he could not shake off the impression +that something kept pace at his side. Vainly he sought the silhouettes +of the advance horsemen, stark against the yellow sky, when they rounded +a bend. Those were real men. He counted them--nine. + +"There's ten in this bunch, all the same," he said to Scrapper. "Don't +you see nobody besides us, boy?" + +Apparently Scrapper did not. So Shortredge followed behind, encouraging +Scrapper up the heights, leaning far back against the cantle when they +went downward to thread another defile. Some of the chasms they crossed +took his breath away. + +"Well," he quavered, with an uneasy laugh. "We're giving him a run for +his money. Hey, ol' feller? We're shore making him ride some." + +At long last they climbed to the topmost ridge. Above was the peak of +The Hatter, and the fire stood revealed a mile below. The air was cold, +and a gray shiver ran along the eastern sky. Shortredge's hand flew +suddenly to the breast of his shirt. He gasped for breath. + +"How goes it?" yelled the man ahead. + +"Fine as silk," he answered after a minute. + +They skirted a crag and the devastation of the flames was hidden from +them. No time was to be lost. With Lafe leading the way, they advanced +at a quickened gait. + +"Here I go." + +"Here I go." + +"Here--I--go," said the last man in a faint voice. + +He settled gently in the saddle and Scrapper came to a halt. The reins +trailed on the ground and the rider's hands were gripping the mane. + +Thus did Buffalo Jim face the music, atop a good horse, as he had +hoped--the music of the spheres, swelling in the blood-red dawn that +broke back of The Hatter. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +MIDDLE LIFE + + +Ten years have passed. Lafe is a trifle heavier, his figure more set. +The gray flecks in his hair are pronounced, and his manner has taken on +an assured poise that marks him in the company of his fellows. I have +seen Johnson in many companies, composed of men in all ranks of life. It +must be admitted that sometimes he looked out of place, because he was +so palpably not of their world; but never has he failed to win respect, +frequently has he dominated the assembly, although usually silent. + +If there be good stuff buried in a man, increased responsibility will +bring it out. Larger responsibilities have contributed to develop +Johnson's latent strength. He is now not only boss of the Anvil range, +but has taken over the management of all its affairs from Horne, who has +grown feeble in accumulating wealth and depends wholly on Lafe. In +addition, he has started as a cowman in his own right and pays rental on +pasture for eleven hundred cows. Fully a thousand calves wear his brand +of the Spur. + +[Illustration: Spur brand] + +A visitor to Hope Canon is met by two tow-headed children, who greet him +with their fingers in their mouths, staring round-eyed. These are +Virginia and Eunice Johnson, daughters of the ex-sheriff, and they are +aged respectively six and three years. Both of the parents are very +dark, as you know, and Lafe's most reliable joke is to query Hetty very +solemnly on the marked blondness of their offspring. + +Hetty herself is plump and matronly. She is now in a position to afford +domestics, and she has the calm bearing and complacence of a healthy, +fruitful woman whose lot lies in pleasant places. In her face is the +fulfillment of early promise. Selfishness and evil thinking may be slow +to leave their marks, but devotion to a noble sense of duty will +invariably light a woman's face. Although her household duties are +greatly lessened, she takes such extraordinary pains in the bringing up +of her children that her every hour is fully occupied. True, she +occasionally snatches a half day to herself; but guess what the busybody +does then? She drives over to the Ferriers', and lends her sister-in-law +aid in straightening out her domestic difficulties. Bob Ferrier is +working for Lafe, and works conscientiously, but he will never be +anything but a salaried employe, for he lacks the faculty of thinking +for himself. Perhaps he was too long under routine. Consequently their +increasing family necessities provide the industrious Hetty with ample +opportunity to exercise her desire of helping. So she is happy. + +And when the Ferriers are provided for and everything is running evenly, +of course she must interest herself in the plight of less fortunate +neighbors. Many nesters have come to the country to take up farms, and +to these Hetty appears as a saving angel, however hostile their arrival +has been to her husband's interests. There are a few women in this world +who must always be doing good or they are wretched, and Lafe had +stumbled upon one of them for wife. + +I have left until last any reference to a very important individual in +the Johnson household--Lafe, Jr., the heir of the Spur. My reason for so +doing has been a reluctance to take him up until something more to his +credit than his father's comments, could be offered. The truth is that +Lafe, Jr., has been a wild boy and a sore trial. He has shown tendencies +which have greatly exercised his father. Hetty is more inclined to be +lenient, which may be responsible for some of the trouble. + +At the time this chapter opens, Lafe, Jr., was a tall, lank youth of +about fifteen years, all knobby joints and hands and feet. When he spoke +it gave one a scare, because his tones slid without warning from a high +falsetto to a most sonorous bass. He was, indeed, at that awkward age +when a well-grown boy is verging on manhood. Often Hetty worried over +his abstraction and fits of sullenness; also, pimples marred his +appearance, and a growth of down on chin and upper lip gave Lafe, Jr., +food for thought. + +"I swan that boy's getting worse every day," said Lafe to his wife one +morning. + +"What's he done now?" she asked. + +"Oh, I done caught him out behind the barn again smoking cigarettes. +Bill, he told me yesterday that he seen Lafe taking a drink out of a +bottle with the horse wrangler. I'll can that feller if he don't leave +Lafe alone." + +"Oh, goodness, let the boy be, Lafe. You told me yourself you smoked +when you were nine. All the boys out here learn to do that mighty young, +and some of them know how to drink right well, too." + +"That's all right," said Johnson stubbornly, "but I don't expect our son +to be a no-account feller. We've got the money to educate him fine. But +I'm scared to send him away until I'm sure he's worth it." + +"Well, anyhow, don't be too hard on him. Don't go jumping on the boy all +the time, Lafe. If you do you'll make a sneak out of him." + +"He's mighty nigh that now," said Lafe, and walked out of the room +before Hetty could start an argument on the point. + +He had not spoken to his wife of the worry that rankled deepest. This +was nothing less than a doubt of his son's courage. To a man who had +lived as Johnson had lived, who had calmly braved danger every month in +his life, absence of pluck is the most despicable of human traits. +Little incidents he had noted in the behavior of Lafe, Jr., filled the +boss with a dread that his son might not only be lacking in aggressive +courage, but might be the victim of positive cowardice. However, he +reflected that happenings previous to his birth may have been +responsible, which gave him a patience with the boy he might not +otherwise have had. Yet Lafe, Jr.'s, shrinking fear of the ordinary +risks of range life was wholly at variance with the reckless spirit he +had shown as a child. + +"He's even scared of his horse," said Lafe to me on a night. "Don't tell +anybody, Dan. I'd be 'shamed. But I've seen that boy's knees near knock +together before he crawled up on ol' Waspnest." + +"He's at a bad age," I said, trying to console him. "In the first place, +he has grown too fast, and in the second place, you haven't handled him +properly. Lafe is a mighty sensitive boy and you ought to be more +companionable with him. As long as you hold him off and never give him +anything but a stern order, he's going to do things which you think are +sneaky." + +The boss looked astounded. It was a new experience for him to be told +that he did not know how to manage a fellow creature, and the fact that +that fellow creature was his son sharpened the sting. He stared at me a +long time very thoughtfully. + +"Maybe you're right," he said. "I'll give it a trial, anyhow." + +Acting on this suggestion, he began to take Lafe, Jr., with him on his +rounds of the range. At first the boy was suspicious of his father's +motive in this move, and showed it by the reluctance and laziness with +which he executed his orders; but, discovering in his sire's attitude +nothing to confirm this view, he became more cheerful and took to the +work with alacrity. Johnson was much pleased. He told me that the boy +was shaping right to become a man yet. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +MOFFATT ONCE MORE + + +Towards nightfall on a day in June the boss of the Anvil rode in to +headquarters from a tour of some water-holes that required patching. His +son accompanied him, astride a mouse-colored bronco that, a month +before, neither Lafe nor myself would have suspected him capable of +handling. There was nobody near the stables, which was unusual, but Mrs. +Horne met them at the corral gate. She was very collected, but so white +that she frightened Lafe. + +"Well," she said distinctly, "it's all over now. He's dead." + +Johnson had just stepped out of the saddle. Still holding his horse by +the cheek of the bridle, he said in amazement: "Ma'am?" + +"Yes," she repeated, "he's dead." + +Then she began to sway on her feet, and before Lafe could reach her, +Mrs. Horne had fainted. With his son's help he bore her to the house. +There he found everything in confusion. Two native women were padding +about, wringing their hands and wailing for help, while Manuel knelt +beside a sofa in the dining-room and bathed Horne's face and forehead +with water. Lafe gave Mrs. Horne into the care of these females and bade +them sternly to be silent. He then turned his attention to his employer. + +In her distraction and first outbreak of grief, Mrs. Horne had been too +hasty. The cowman was not dead. He had a bullet through his neck and +another in the region of the stomach, but he was still alive and Johnson +did not give up hope. Well he knew what a tough person this same Horne +was, and he calculated that his indomitable spirit would help nature to +pull him through. To Mrs. Horne, now revived and tearfully anxious to be +of use, he said: "Pshaw, don't take on so, Miz Horne. It'll take more'n +two bullets to kill the ol' man. How did it happen?" + +In a gush of words she began to tell him, but Manuel rose from the floor +and interrupted. The Mexican was almost hysterical, but from the two of +them Lafe was able to piece together a fairly accurate picture of what +had transpired. + +Headquarters had been deserted except for the owner and Manuel, who was +working in the stables at the time, and the three women. Old man Horne +was dozing in a hammock, when a rider came to the corral and turned his +horse inside. Horne woke in time to perceive the stranger throw his +saddle on one of the Anvil horses. The cowman called out to him to know +what he meant by it, and getting no reply, descended from the veranda +and hurried to the corral. + +Manuel was cleaning out the stallion's stall when he heard loud talking +in the corral. Hardly had he laid down his fork in order to go to +ascertain the cause of the disturbance, than there came two shots. He +reached the door of the stable in time to see a man ride off at full +speed. In the corral he had found Mr. Horne lying unconscious, and he +heaved him on to his back and carried him to the house; all alone he did +it. + +In about half an hour the cowman opened his eyes. + +"Hello, Lafe," he said. + +The boss despatched his son to Badger to fetch Dr. Armstrong and himself +set to work to ease the cowman's pain. The wound in his neck gave Lafe +no concern, but that in the stomach caused Horne acute agony and Lafe +feared internal hemorrhages. + +"It was that skunk, Steve Moffatt," Horne told Lafe in a whisper. "He's +come back after all these years." + +"Don't talk," said Lafe. + +"I will talk," said the cowman. "I'm not going to die for a long while +yet." + +"What was the trouble about?" + +"I didn't know him at first, on account of he looks so much older. And +he's grown a beard. He wanted a horse and I wouldn't give him one. Then +he plugged me. Plugged me in cold blood, he did. Just as he did it he +told me that would square us for me and Floyd offering that reward way +back fifteen years ago." + +In the course of nine hours Lafe, Jr., returned with the doctor. By +that time Mrs. Horne had taken to her bed and was almost as much in need +of Armstrong's services as was her husband. He made a brief examination +and reported that the wounds were dangerous, but not necessarily fatal. +The patient's advanced age was his greatest concern. Reassured on this +point, Johnson and his son went to sleep. + +The cowman sent for his manager in early afternoon. + +"Lafe," he said, "I'm going to get all right. I've got enough nurses +here, and I want you to go get Steve Moffatt. He's always tried to give +me and you dirt, and I'm beginning to think that the Lord intended you +to round him up. Take what money you need and go fetch him." + +"I'll get him," said the boss. + +"And, say," the cowman called after him, "when you catch him, bring him +here to me. Whether he's living or dead, bring him here to me. I want to +see Steve Moffatt for what he did yesterday." + +Lafe promised and went out. He found his son near the corral, repairing +a cinch with a bit of twine. + +"Where're you going?" the boy asked. + +The boss paused in his walk and surveyed him critically for some +moments. + +"I'm going after a man I've hunted for sixteen years," he said. + +"Steve Moffatt?" + +"Steve Moffatt," his father replied. "How did you know? Him and me have +been shooting each other up since we were old enough to carry a gun." + +Lafe, Jr., turned to his task of repairing the cinch again, and said +nothing more for a few minutes. His father was inside the corral, roping +a fresh mount. + +"You might catch me ol' Beanbelly, Dad," Lafe, Jr., cried to him. + +"What for?" + +"Why, you're going to take me along, ain't you? You're going to give me +a chance at him, too, ain't you?" + +"You're damn whistlin' I am," said his father. "Come and get your +horse." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +THE DUEL IN THE MALPAIS + + +For twelve days Lafe and his son followed the trail of the outlaw. +Sometimes they lost trace of him, but Moffatt could never refrain from +trifling displays of bravado which betrayed his identity everywhere he +moved, so that Johnson was able to pick up his tracks without much loss +of time. He was never more than three days behind Moffatt. + +Evidently foreseeing that the telegraph of the entire continent would be +put in service to capture him, Moffatt did not attempt to get out of the +country by train or by any of the frequented roads of travel. He kept to +the by-trails and the wildest regions. Instead of stealing over the +Border, he headed north. Lafe heard of him one day in a mountain hamlet; +the next at the home of a nester, in a deep valley thirty miles distant. +So with his son he followed him along the Border, up into New Mexico and +across it, over the San Andres Mountains and onward towards the Capitan +range. + +At the Bar W headquarters near Carrizozo he learned that a man like the +one he sought had taken dinner there and had later ridden onward into +the Malpais. Accordingly Johnson and his son followed into these bad +lands. + +When they started, the sun was glaring ferociously from a pale blue sky +and the dust of the flats rose like fine powder under their horses' +feet. On their one side was an expanse of baked clay, loose and flaky +like a crust of pastry, that stretched away to the base of some +foothills where were areas of green, dotted with grazing cattle. Beyond +the hills a mountain gloomed, mist-capped. In the right foreground was a +grove of trees with a red house nestling in the midst. A windmill rose +beside the house, and not far off, standing naked on the parched plain, +was an adobe structure, square, flat-roofed and with a single stove-pipe +chimney. These were the Bar W headquarters. + +Ahead of the two the level country terminated abruptly at a dull red +line, and beyond that was a fit abode for lost souls--twisted, gnarled +heaps of metal and rock, a torn land where nothing of life stayed +voluntarily. + +They had set out from the Bar W on Wednesday evening. On Thursday +afternoon Johnson and Moffatt were taking pot shots at each other from +behind heaps of lava far out in the Malpais. Near the sheriff was his +son. Lafe, Jr., lay in a fissure behind a mound of slag-iron and +endeavored conscientiously to shoot off the top of Moffatt's head as it +bobbed for the fraction of a second from behind another mound a hundred +yards away. They had abandoned their horses when they entered the +Malpais, because the footing was so treacherous that they could make as +good progress by walking. Moreover, there was nothing of sustenance for +the beasts in all the forty miles of waste. Coming upon Moffatt +unexpectedly as he was examining his jaded horse's feet, the sheriff had +not been able to carry into execution his plan of hiding Lafe, Jr., in a +position where he would be safe and could yet render assistance. So now +Lafe, Jr., flattened out in his fissure in equal danger with his father, +and exulting vastly. Of course, what the pursuers should have done, +according to the best military tactics, was to separate and come upon +the outlaw from two sides, thus exposing him to a shot. About the only +objection that could be urged to this strategy was that they couldn't do +it. Moffatt could see their every movement and they dare not budge from +their shelter. Whatever the quality of his courage, nobody could deny +that Steve was terrible with a rifle. + +[Illustration: "So now Lafe, Jr., flattened out in his fissure in equal +danger with his father."] + +"How about that one, Lafe?" the outlaw yelled, as a bullet from his +25-35 skimmed along Johnson's shoulder and back. + +"Two inches too high, Steve," said Lafe, without resentment. + +Shortly after this the two pursuers ceased firing, though maintaining a +watchful eye for any movement of the fugitive, and partook ravenously of +bread and cold beef, canned tomatoes and tepid water. + +Night was creeping over the Malpais. Away to their right yawned the +crater whence this monstrous flow of lava had anciently spouted. From +its base to its rim was about two hundred feet. On every side were the +distorted, grotesque knolls of melted rocks, brick-red in color, +stretching for leagues like a slag-heap from the fires of giants. Not a +moving thing had they seen in their progress through this region. A tiny +shrub clung here and there in a fissure, where an inch or two of soil +had been gathered by the winds, and once Lafe, Jr., had narrowly escaped +falling into a devil's pincushion. About three miles to the south +towered the highest point in the Malpais, a precipitous hill of scorched +rock, crowned with a blunt shaft. Atop this shaft was a dark object. +Presently it soared into the heavens. It was an eagle. + +Johnson scanned the western sky and the glory of the setting sun in its +halo of gold and crimson and purple. Then he pointed to where the hosts +of the storm kings were gathering above the pines just below El +Capitan's peak. From the thickest of the mass a flash of lightning +licked downward. + +"The cook done told me yesterday," he said to his son, "that that ol' +mountain yonder is always raising hell. If the lightning gets going +strong, there're better places to be in than these here Malpais, son." + +"I reckon you're right," said the boy, not without an anxious glance +upward. + +They exchanged shots twice with Moffatt before the dark came. With its +coming they felt a warm splash of rain upon their faces, and in a +leaping flash that illuminated the heavens, they beheld El Capitan +swiftly despatching his cloud warriors over the country. + +"It's getting blacker'n the wash basin at headquarters," said Lafe, Jr., +with a nervous laugh. "Moffatt will give us the slip easy in the dark, +Dad." + +"He won't travel far in this storm, son." + +Nor did he attempt it. The rain burst upon them in squalls that drove in +regular procession like waves of the sea, and back of it, urging it +forward, rode a hurricane of wind, shrieking and tearing among the +mounds. From north to south the lightning flared; they could smell it. +The detonations of the thunder rocked the earth. A great jagged spear +was hurled upon the pile where the eagle had sat his vigil, and their +starting eyes had a momentary vision of the awful impact. Lafe, Jr., +crawled close to his father. He was shivering. + +"Do you reckon we'll be killed, Dad? Look at the lightning." + +To right, to left, behind them and in front, the forked flashes played +upon the metal heaps, the splitting strokes blinding them with blue and +green glares. It was a carnival of fire. Johnson stared fascinated, his +whole being numbed. A loafer wolf, his tail between his legs, whining +dolefully, slunk past them to his den. He did not see or, seeing, did +not heed, his hereditary foes. + +An especially brilliant flash, followed on the instant by a shock of +thunder, brought the sheriff half-way to his feet, so close did it feel. +In their ears sounded a wild, immeasurably plaintive scream, and he +peered over the mound. + +"That's a horse!" he shouted close to his son's ear. "They yell +something awful when they're mortal scared. Yes, I swan there's Steve's +horse laying on its side on a rock." + +Lafe, Jr., was mumbling to himself, but his words were unintelligible, +although Lafe afterward assured Hetty that he heard "Now I lay me," +quite distinctly. However that may be, his son took heart and began to +grope about in the dark behind him. + +"What's the matter, Lafe?" asked his father anxiously. "Anything wrong, +boy?" + +"I'm looking for my slicker. I brought it along." + +"What do you want your slicker for? You're soaked through now. You can't +get any wetter." + +"I'll feel sort of safer," said the boy obstinately. "Here it is. I'm +going to put it on." + +He got to his knees to don the sticky, clinging coat, and as he held it +extended loosely in his hands to discover the armholes, a fierce gust of +wind whipped it from his grasp and it flew high over their heads with a +loud flapping, straight towards Moffatt's hiding-place. A shout, a shot +and maniacal laughter came to them faintly against the tempest. + +Peeping over their barrier, in a succession of flashes that lighted up +the wastes for miles, they made out Moffatt standing on top of his +mound with his hands raised to the sky. His hat was gone and his rifle +he had thrown away. For a full minute he was blotted from their sight. +Then, in another illumination, they say him running towards them, +laughing wildly. + +"It's the angel of the Lord!" he shrilled to the contending skies. "It's +the angel of the Lord. I seen him." + +The renegade ran a dozen steps more, whirled dizzily and toppled to the +earth. Shaking off his son's imploring hands, Johnson sprang into the +dark. Three minutes later he was back, dragging Moffatt by the arms and +shoulders. + +"The lightning done hit him, I reckon," he panted. "Singed down both +sides, he is. I reckon he got hit twice. He ain't dead--not him." + +Moffatt regained consciousness in a few minutes, but the horror of it +was still upon him, and his imagination peopled the night with avenging +spirits. He cowered down between the two and endeavored to interpose the +boy's body between him and the elements. + +"You won't let the ol' man kill me, will you, son?" he whimpered. + +"Shut up," said Lafe, Jr., coldly. + +"You keep quiet, Steve," said Johnson irritably. "It's bad enough +without having you blubber like that. We've got to stay here till +daylight." + +"All right. I'll be quiet, Lafe. But you-all won't kill me, now? +Promise? Where's my gun?" + +"I've got it," said Lafe, Jr. "'I do believe this ol' storm is blowing +itself out." + +At daylight they sought their horses, Moffatt carrying his saddle over +his shoulder and staggering weakly beside the boy. He was too frightened +to remain near Lafe, and implored his son whiningly at every step to +intercede for him with his father and the Anvil men. If he only would, +he would treat him fair and teach him how to shoot. + +Their mounts had drifted with the gale and were nowhere in sight, and +there was nothing for them to do but toil the weary miles on foot. They +arrived at the Bar W bunkhouse at nightfall, spent with hunger and want +of sleep. They slept twelve hours, with Moffatt locked in the cook's own +bedroom. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +THE END + + +It was five days later that Mrs. Horne, emerging from the door on +hearing a horse neigh, espied a pair of riders coming up the lane. Her +mouth opened in amazement and she sped into the house, crying excitedly +for Manuel. Lafe, Jr., pulled up at the yard gate and said; "No, you +don't, Moffatt. You get down first and go in front." + +"Sure, I'm ready, Lafe. Better not get too reckless with that li'l gun, +boy. She's liable for to go off." + +They passed into the house and entered Horne's bedroom, after Lafe, Jr., +had whispered to the perturbed Manuel. Mrs. Horne was standing guard +beside the bed, her face white and accusing, as Moffatt was thrust +forward by young Johnson. The renegade would not look at the sick man, +but mumbled, and fidgeted from one foot to the other. Horne surveyed him +dully for a moment; then his eyes brightened and he turned his face +towards Lafe, Jr., with a smile. + +"Dad and I got him over in New Mexico," said Lafe, Jr., in answer to the +look. "We caught up with him in the Malpais. Dad, he had to stay home +this morning because mother's poorly, so he sent me with him." + +The boy did not state that Lafe had purposely permitted him to come +alone, for his greater triumph and the hardening of his nerve. In fact, +Lafe, Jr., did not know it. + +"Is he--what's wrong with him, Lafe?" + +"Lightning. He got burned awful bad. He's awful scared, too, Mr. Horne. +Here, you, stand up straight!" + +"Moffatt," said the cowman weakly, "I ought to give you up to be hanged. +You aren't worth shooting. But I reckon you're worse off alive than +dead. Turn him loose, Lafe boy. I always knew his nerve wasn't real. He +won't bother us any more." + +"I can go then, Mr. Horne, sir?" the prisoner quavered. + +"You heard what he said, didn't you?" said Lafe, Jr. "Out you go! No, +you can't have that horse. You can walk. And say--get a move on you. I'm +going to begin shooting when I've counted fifty." + +"Say, Lafe, you'll give me a fair count, won't you, boy? Don't be mean +and cut in on it, Lafe. Yes, yes, I'm a-going." + +"One, two, three, four--" + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Sheriff of Badger, by George B. 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