Читать книгу The Texan - James B. Hendryx - Страница 7

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In the dining car of the side-tracked train Alice Marcum's glance strayed from the face of her table companion to the window. Another cavalcade of riders had swept into town and with a chorus of wild yells the crowd in the Long Horn surged out to greet them. A moment later the dismounted ones rushed to their horses, leaped into the saddles and, joined by the newcomers, dashed at top speed for perhaps thirty yards and dismounted to crowd into another saloon across whose front the word HEADQUARTERS was emblazoned in letters of flaming red.

"They're just like a lot of boys," exclaimed the girl with a smile, "The idea of anybody mounting a horse to ride that distance!"

"They're a rough lot, I guess." Winthrop Adams Endicott studied his menu card.

"Rough! Of course they're rough! Why shouldn't they be rough? Think of the work they do—rain or shine, riding out there on the plains. When they get to town they've earned the right to play as they want to play! I'd be rough, too, if I lived the life they live. And if I were a man I'd be right over there with them this minute."

"Why be a man?" smiled Endicott. "You have the Mayor's own word for the breadth of Wolf River's ideas. As for myself, I don't drink and wouldn't enjoy that sort of thing. Besides, if I were over there I would have to forgo——"

"No pretty little speeches, please. At least you can spare me that."

"But, Alice, I mean it, really. And——"

"Save 'em for the Cincinnati girls. They'll believe 'em. Who do you think will win this afternoon. Let's bet! I'll bet you a—an umbrella against a pair of gloves, that my cavalier of the yellow fur trousers will win the bucking contest, and——"

"Our train may pull out before the thing is over, and we would never know who won."

"Oh, yes we will, because we're going to stay for the finish. Why, I wouldn't miss this afternoon's fun if forty trains pulled out!"

"I ought to be in Chicago day after tomorrow," objected the man.

"I ought to be, too. But I'm not going to be. For Heaven's sake, Winthrop, for once in your life, do something you oughtn't to do!"

"All right," laughed the man with a gesture of surrender. "And for the rope throwing contest I'll pick the other."

"What other?" The girl's eyes strayed past the little wooden buildings of the town to the clean-cut rim of the bench.

"Why the other who rode after your handkerchief. The fellow who lassoed the honourable Mayor and was guilty of springing the pun."

The girl nodded with her eyes still on the skyline. "Oh, yes. He seemed—somehow—different. As if people amused him. As if everything were a joke and he were the only one who knew it was a joke. I could hate a man like that. The other, Mr. Purdy, hates him."

The man regarded her with an amused smile: "You keep a sort of mental card index. I should like to have just a peep at my card."

"Cards sometimes have to be rewritten—and sometimes it really isn't worth while to fill them out again. Come on, let's go. People are beginning to gather for the fun and I want a good seat. There's a lumber pile over there that'll be just the place, if we hurry."

In the Headquarters saloon Tex Benton leaned against the end of the bar and listened to a Bear Paw Pool man relate how they took in a bunch of pilgrims with a badger game down in Glasgow. Little knots of cowpunchers stood about drinking at the bar or discussing the coming celebration.

"They've got a bunch of bad ones down in the corral," someone said. "That ol' roman nose, an' the wall-eyed pinto, besides a lot of snorty lookin' young broncs. I tell yeh if Tex draws either one of them ol' outlaws it hain't no cinch he'll grab off this ride. The hombre that throws his kak on one of them is a-goin' to do a little sky-ballin' 'fore he hits the dirt, you bet. But jest the same I'm here to bet ten to eight on him before the drawin'."

Purdy who had joined the next group turned at the words.

"I'll jest take that," he snapped. "Because Tex has drug down the last two buckin' contests hain't no sign he c'n go south with 'em all." At the end of the bar Tex grinned as he saw Purdy produce a roll of bills.

"An', by gosh!" the Bear Paw Pool man was saying, "when they'd all got their money down an' the bull dog was a-clawin' the floor to git at the badger, an' the pilgrims was crowded around with their eyes a-bungin' out of their heads, ol' Two Dot Wilson, he shoves the barrel over an' they wasn't a doggone thing in under it but a——"

"What yeh goin' to have, youse?" Purdy had caught sight of Tex who stood between the Bear Paw Pool man and Bat Lajune. "I'm bettin' agin' yeh winnin' the buckin' contest, but I'll buy yeh a drink."

Tex grinned as his eyes travelled with slow insolence over the other's outfit.

"You're sure got up some colourful, Jack," he drawled. "If you sh'd happen to crawl up into the middle of one of them real outlaws they got down in the corral, an' quit him on the top end of a high one, you're a-goin' to look like a rainbow before you git back."

The other scowled: "I guess if I tie onto one of them outlaws yeh'll see me climb off 'bout the time the money's ready. Yeh Texas fellers comes up here an' makes yer brag about showin' us Montana boys how to ride our own horses. But it's real money talks! I don't notice you backin' up yer brag with no real dinero."

Tex was still smiling. "That's because I ain't found anyone damn fool enough to bet agin' me."

"Didn't I jest tell yeh I was bettin' agin' you?"

"Don't bet enough to hurt you none. How much you got, three dollars? An' how much odds you got to get before you'll risk 'em?"

Purdy reached for his hip pocket. "Jest to show yeh what I think of yer ridin' I'll bet yeh even yeh don't win."

"Well," drawled the Texan, "seein' as they won't be only about ten fellows ride, that makes the odds somewhere around ten to one, which is about right. How much you want to bet?"

With his fingers clutching his roll of bills, Purdy's eyes sought the face of Cinnabar Joe. For an instant he hesitated and then slammed the roll onto the bar.

"She goes as she lays. Count it!"

The bartender picked up the money and ran it through. "Eighty-five," he announced, laconically.

"That's more'n I got on me," said Tex ruefully, as he smoothed out three or four crumpled bills and capped the pile with a gold piece.

Purdy sneered: "It's money talks," he repeated truculently. "'Tain't hardly worth while foolin' with no piker bets but if that's the best yeh c'n do I'll drag down to it." He reached for his roll.

"Hold on!" The Texan was still smiling but there was a hard note in his voice. "She goes as she lays." He turned to the half-breed who stood close at his elbow.

"Bat. D'you recollect one night back in Las Vegas them four bits I loant you? Well, just you shell out about forty dollars interest on them four bits an' we'll call it square for a while." The half-breed smiled broadly and handed over his roll.

"Forty-five, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty—" counted Tex, and with a five-dollar bill between his thumb and forefinger, eyed Purdy condescendingly: "I'm a-goin' to let you drag down that five if you want to," he said, "'cause you've sure kissed good-bye to the rest of it. They ain't any of your doggoned Montana school-ma'm-cayuses but what I c'n ride slick-heeled, an' with my spurs on—" he paused; "better drag down the five. You might need a little loose change if that girl should happen to get thirsty between dances."

"Jest leave it lay," retorted Purdy; "an' at that, I'll bet I buy her more drinks than what you do."

Tex laughed: "Sure. But there ain't nothin' in buyin' 'em drinks. I've bought 'em drinks all night an' then some other hombre'd step in an'——"

"I'd bet yeh on that, too. I didn't notice her fallin' no hell of a ways fer you."

"Mebbe not. I wasn't noticin' her much. I was kind of studyin' the pilgrim that was along with her."

"What's he got to do with it?"

"That's what I was tryin' to figger out. But, hey, Cinnabar, how about that drink? I'm dry as a post-hole."

"Fill 'em up, Cinnabar. I'm makin' this noise," seconded Purdy. And as the Texan turned to greet an acquaintance, he caught out of the tail of his eye the glance that flashed between Purdy and the bartender. Noticed, also out of the tail of his eye, that, contrary to custom, Cinnabar filled the glasses himself and that a few drops of colourless liquid splashed from the man's palm into the liquor that was shoved toward him. The Texan knew that Purdy had watched the operation interestedly and that he straightened with an audible sigh of relief at its conclusion. "Come on, drink up!" Purdy raised his glass as Tex faced the bar with narrowed eyes.

"What's them fellows up to?" cried Cinnabar Joe, and as Purdy turned, glass in hand, to follow his glance Tex saw the bartender swiftly substitute his own glass for the one into which he had dropped the liquid.

The next instant Purdy was again facing him. "What fellers?" he asked sharply.

Cinnabar Joe laughed: "Oh, that Bear Paw Pool bunch. Fellow's got to keep his eye peeled whenever they git their heads together. Here's luck."

For only an instant did Tex hesitate while his brain worked rapidly. "There's somethin' bein' pulled off here," he reasoned, "that I ain't next to. If that booze was doped why did Cinnabar drink it? Anyways, he pulled that stall on Purdy fer some reason an' it's up to me to see him through with it. But if I do git doped it won't kill me an' when I come alive they's a couple of fellows goin' to have to ride like hell to keep ahead of me."

He drank the liquor and as he returned the glass to the bar he noted the glance of satisfaction that flashed into Purdy's eyes.

"Come on, boys, let's git things a-goin'!" Mayor Maloney stood in the doorway and beamed good humouredly: "'Tain't every cowtown's got a bank an' us Wolf Riverites has got to do ourself proud. Every rancher an' nester in forty mile around has drove in. The flat's rimmed with wagons an' them train folks is cocked up on the lumber piles a-chickerin' like a prairie-dog town. We'll pull off the racin' an' trick ridin' an' shootin' first an' save the ropin' an' buckin' contests to finish off on. Come on, you've all had enough to drink. Jump on your horses an' ride out on the flat like hell was tore loose fer recess. Then when I denounce what's a-comin', them that's goin' to complete goes at it, an' the rest pulls off to one side an' looks on 'til their turn comes."

A six-shooter roared and a bullet crashed into the ceiling.

"Git out of the way we're a-goin' by!" howled someone, and instantly the chorus drowned the rattle of spurs and the clatter of high-heeled boots as the men crowded to the door.

"Cowboys out on a yip ti yi!

Coyotes howl and night birds cry

And we'll be cowboys 'til we die!"

Out in the street horses snorted and whirled against each other, spurs rattled, and leather creaked as the men leaped into their saddles. With a thunder of hoofs, a whirl of white dust, the slapping of quirts and ropes against horses' flanks, the wicked bark of forty-fives, and a series of Comanche-like yells the cowboys dashed out onto the flat. Once more Tex Benton found himself drawn up side by side with Jack Purdy before the girl, for whose handkerchief they had raced. Both waved their hats, and Alice smiled as she waved her handkerchief in return.

"Looks like I was settin' back with an ace in the hole, so far," muttered Tex, audibly.

Purdy scowled: "Ace in the hole's all right sometimes. But it's the lad that trails along with a pair of deuces back to back that comes up with the chips, cashin' in time."

Slim Maloney announced a quarter-mile dash and when Purdy lined up with the starters, Tex quietly eased his horse between two wagons, and, slipping around behind the lumber-piles, rode back to the Headquarters Saloon. The place was deserted and in a chair beside a card table, with his head buried in his arms, sat Cinnabar Joe, asleep. The cowpuncher crossed the room and shook him roughly by the shoulder:

"Hey, Joe—wake up!"

The man rolled uneasily and his eyelids drew heavily apart. He mumbled incoherently.

"Wake up, Joe!" The Texan redoubled his efforts but the other relapsed into a stupor from which it was impossible to rouse him.

A man hurrying past in the direction of the flats paused for a moment to peer into the open door. Tex glanced up as he hurried on.

"Doc!" There was no response and the cowpuncher crossed to the door at a bound. The street was deserted, and without an instant's hesitation he dashed into the livery and feed barn next door whose wide aperture yawned deserted save for the switching of tails and the stamping of horses' feet in the stalls. The door of the harness room stood slightly ajar and Tex jerked it open and entered. Harness and saddles littered the floor and depended from long wooden pegs set into the wall while upon racks hung sweatpads and saddle blankets of every known kind and description. Between the floor and the lower edge of the blankets that occupied a rack at the farther side of the room a pair of black leather shoes showed.

"Come on, Doc, let's go get a drink." The shoes remained motionless. "Gosh! There's a rat over in under them blankets!" A forty-five hammer was drawn back with a sharp click. The shoes left the floor simultaneously and the head and shoulders of a man appeared above the rack.

"Eh! Was someone calling me?"

"Yeh, I was speakin' of rats——"

"My hearing's getting bad. I was fishing around for my saddle blanket. Those barn dogs never put anything where it belongs."

"That's right. I said let's go get a drink. C'n you hear that?" Tex noted that the man's face was white and that he was eyeing him intently, as he approached through the litter.

"Just had one, thanks. Was on my way down to the flats to see the fun, and thought I'd see if my blanket had dried out all right."

"Yes? Didn't you hear me when I hollered at you in the saloon a minute ago?"

"No. Didn't know any one was in there."

"You're in a hell of a fix with your eyesight an' hearin' all shot to pieces, ain't you? But I reckon they're goin' to be the best part of you if you don't come along with me. Cinnabar Joe's be'n doped."

"Cinnabar Joe!" The doctor's surprise was genuine.

"Yes. Cinnabar Joe. An' you better get on the job an' bring him to, or they'll be tossin' dry ones in on top of you about tomorrow. Sold any drugs that w'd do a man that way, lately?"

The doctor knitted his brow. "Why let's see. I don't remember——"

"Your mem'ry ain't no better'n what your eyesight an' hearin' is, is it? I reckon mebbe a little jolt might get it to workin'." As Tex talked even on, his fist shot out and landed squarely upon the other's nose and the doctor found himself stretched at full length among the saddles and odds and ends of harness. Blood gushed from his nose and flowed in a broad wet stream across his cheek. He struggled weakly to his feet and interposed a shaking arm.

"I didn't do anything to you," he whimpered.

"No. I'm the one that's doin'. Is your parts workin' better? 'Cause if they ain't——"

"What do you want to know? I'll tell you!" The man spoke hurriedly as he cringed from the doubling fist.

"I know you sold the dope, 'cause when I told you about Cinnabar you wasn't none surprised at the dope—but at who'd got it. You sold it to Jack Purdy an' you knew he aimed to give it to me. What's more, your eyesight an' hearin' is as good as mine. You seen me an' heard me in the saloon an' you was scairt an' run an' hid in the harness room. You're a coward, an' a crook, an' a damn liar! Wolf River don't need you no more. You're a-comin' along with me an' fix Cinnabar up an' then you're a-goin' to go down to the depot an' pick you out a train that don't make no local stops an' climb onto it an' ride 'til you get where the buffalo grass don't grow. That is, onless Cinnabar should happen to cash in. If he does——"

"He won't! He won't! It's only chloral. A little strychnine will fix him up."

"Better get busy then. 'Cause if he ain't to in an hour or so you're a-goin' to flutter on the down end of a tight one. These here cross-arms on the railroad's telegraph poles is good an' stout an' has the added advantage of affordin' good observation for all, which if you use a cottonwood there's always some that can't see good on account of limbs an' branches bein' in the road——"

"Come over to the office 'til I get what I need and I'll bring him around all right!" broke in the doctor and hurried away, with the cowpuncher close at his heels.