Shoot-out at Split Rock Read online

  "WeU done, Jim an' Sandy," the foreman cried,

  "You figure it's them?" the cattleman asked.

  "I'm damn shore," Jeff said stoutly. "If we get clear o* this it's them you gotta thank, like it or not."

  The savages were hesitating, the attack from the rear seemed to be bothering them. They were now galloping to and fro, jabbering, gesturing, apparently discussing what action they should take. The matter was to be decided for them. From behind a hillock up the trail a band of more than a dozen riders emerged, spurring their mounts madly, and firing as they came.

  At the sight of this reinforcement, the Indians fled. With shouts and wUd oaths the newcomers followed, ruthlessly shooting down the runaways. Their leader only did not join in the pursuit. Wheeling his horse, he rode to where the rancher was standing, and got down.

  "WeU, Eden, I reckon we didn't come any too soon," he said.

  "I'd rather you hadn't come at all—we could 'a' beat 'em off without you," the old man ungraciously retorted. "If yo're lookin' for thanks yo're Hable to be disappointed."

  "I ain't," Rogue returned drily. "But if you wam't needin' me, why send?"

  "I never did. If Sands came to you—"

  "It wam't Sands," the outlaw interposed. "A little runt of a fella, dressed in deerskin an' wearin' moccasins; looked like a forest runner."

  "Ain't seen him," the rancher snapped. "I naturally figured Green would use his sidekick."

  "So it was his idea, huh?" Rogue said reflectively, and chuckled. "It would be o' course. Where is he?"

  "I dunno, an' I care less," Eden told him. "I set 'em adrift when I learned they belong to you."

  "They don't—I wish they did," Rogue admitted. "I could use 'em, but it looks like they're still workin' for the S-E."

  "WaitiQ' for a chance to carry out yore orders an' drill me again, I s'pose?" the cattleman sneered.

  "I'd no hand in that, Eden; it's not my way," the outlaw said sternly. His face hardened. "I could take yore herd right now if I wanted."

  "You could take a slug through the gizzard now if I wanted," the old man growled, gripping his rifle suggestively.

  Rogue looked at him in grim amusement. "An' what would that buy you? My men, mebbe, ain't got my respect for youth an' beauty."

  He removed his hat and bowed, either in real or pretended pohteness, as Carol—anxious about her father— appeared. Baudry, who had apparently been to fetch her, was just behind. His eyes met those of the bandit leader for one brief instant but his face was devoid of expression.

  "We seem fated to meet in unpleasant circumstances,-Miss Eden," Rogue said easily, aware that by speaking to her he was rubbing the rancher on a raw place.

  "My daughter don't wanta talk to a rustier," Eden said. The girl gazed reproachfully at her angry parent. "He came to our assistance," she reminded. Her eyes widened as she saw that Rogue's wrist was torn. "You are hurt," she went on, "I've some bandages here—I got them ready, in case..."

  "It's on'y a graze—^not worth fussin' over," the outiaw muttered.

  But Carol insisted, and Rogue's eyes regarded her curiously as she deftiy bound up the wound. "I'm obliged," he said gruffly.

  *T got a scratch too," Navajo put in, his evil, leering gaze on the girl.

  Rogue spun round. "Get to hell outa this," he hissed, and before the deadly menace in tone and look the half-breed fell back.

  The outlaw leader stepped into his saddle. "Well, so long, Eden," he said. "We'll be seein' you. If you bump into any more trouble, send, an' we'll come a-runnin'. This time we couldn't help ourselves; next time, mebbe we'll be able to."

  With this meaning jest he signed to his men and rode away, indifierent to the threatening growls which greeted it

  Ticelve

  The herd went on, leaving behind one of the oblong heaps of rock which were only too frequently on the Western trails. The rancher was hard to live with during the ensuing days. The loss of one of his men had depressed him; he became moody, savage. The very thought that he had been placed under an obligation to one he despised as an outlaw, who made no secret of his intention to rob him, filled the old frontiersman with fury. He was troubled too with odd doubts in the matter of Green and Sandy. The bandit had disclaimed—more—^had regretted them, but probably he was lying. Bah! Green was "Sudden"—a wanted man with a price on his head, and Sandy had tried to IdU him, so that was that. Thus he would dismiss the subject, only to find himself milling it over in his mind an hour later.

  Baudry also was far from happy, for Carol avoided him. But this was not what most concerned him. It was several days after the Indian attack that he made an opportunity to speak with Dutt alone.

  "Well, Monte, you ain't lookin' too peart," was the greeting he received. "What's disturbin' yore rosy dreams?"

  "I've told you not to use that name," the gambler growled, "So you are satisfied with the situation, eh?"

  "Shore I am. Rogue has got this outfit where we want it, an' with those two cowboys in the discard, it looks like pie to me,"

  "Unless Rogue keeps the cows and sells them himself."

  "At that, we're on velvet. Eden's busted an' we get the S-E."

  "And that damned outlaw picks up fifty thousand dollars or more. No, Davy, I'm not standing for that. I offered to take those cows at five a head and I'm going to have them. There's another danger, the damn fool is turning soft. Did you see his face when Carol tied his wrist up?"

  "He certainly didn't seem to enjoy it as much as—you might—for instance."

  "Enjoy it? That was torture for him, it fetched back his past and showed him where he had dropped to. I don't suppose a good woman has stretched out a hand to him for years. She played a big card then, though she didn't know it. I was watching him and I teU you I wouldn't be surprised if he let Eden keep his cows for her sake."

  Dutt was plainly incredulous. "Rogue's too tough to fall for a skirt," he said. "An' his men wouldn't let him! We can see to it that they don't."

  The gambler nodded. "Tell Rollitt to find Navajo and warn him. Rogue must steal the herd. Afterwards—we shall see. My share of that fifty thousand would pay for the wedding trip I have in mind, Davy."

  "First catch yore bride," the other parodied.

  "She'll come to heel, when her father is faced with finding a job," Baudry said. "What do they call it in Texas? Riding the 'chuck line,' eh? She won't let him do that at his age."

  Camp was being struck and preparations made for the day's trek when Sudden and his two companions made their appearance, greatly to the astonishment of those of the S-E outfit as were present. For days since the encounter with the redskins they had trailed the herd, watched the crossing of a river which Tyson opined must be the Cimarron.

  The two cowboys had found the "still-hunter" more than useful. Not only had he kept them well suppUed with game, but his knowledge of woodcraft made him an ideal spy on the outlaws. Unsuspected, moving with the silence of a serpent in the undergrowth, he haunted them, often getting sufficiently near to hear their conversation. But he had not yet learned when they intended to make the

  final move. Sudden, however, guessed that the blow could not now be long delayed, and that was why he had ridden in. The rancher received him with a scowl.

  "Eden, I want a word with you," the cowboy said. "I'm goin' to put my cards on the table, an' you'd better look at 'em."

  Very briefly he told the tale of his adventures to the time he joined the S-E outfit and the smile on the gambler's hps became more pronounced. When Sudden paused, he laughed outright.

  "Damned good," he jeered. "You ought to be writing dime novels. Why didn't you come out with this fine story then?"

  "I couldn't prove it," the cowboy said simply. "An' I wanted to get outa the country."

  "I'll bet you did," came the jibe. "Besides, you were working for Rogue."

  Sudden raised his shoulders. "This fella claims he's goin' to ranch near you," he said to Eden. "Did he mention his brand?" The old man shook his head.
"Well, it don't signify—he told yore daughter. See here."

  He picked up a half-burnt stick from the fire and in the sand at his feet traced the letters, S-E. Then he joined up the ends of both, turning them into 8-B.

  "That's his iron," he said quietly. "Convenient, ain't it?'*

  Baudry's expression of amused indifference vanished. "By heaven, Sam, I never thought of that," he cried. "Comes of not being a cattleman."

  It was well done, but his laugh met with no response; brand-blotting was not a subject of mirth in that company.

  "Yeah," Sudden said ironically. "While I was staying with Rogue, his men brought in a bunch o' cattie to brand. As I told you, they were feedin' me, so I did my share. They were supposed to be mavericks, but most of 'em was S-E when they was thrown an' 8-B when they got up."

  "Which only proves that Rogue was taking advantage of my ignorance to sell me stolen steers," Baudry pointed out. "Till the other day I'd never seen the fellow. I let it be known I wanted stock and took it for granted they would be unmarked strays."

  "Rogue told me a man was payin' him to bust this drive

  an' was willin' to take all or any o' the herd," the cowboy went on. "Who gets yore ranch, Eden, if you fail to put yore cattle through?"

  Baudry reached out a cigar, lit it, and laughed. "Dime novel stuff," he said. "Prove it." "Right," the other rejoined. "Eden, I want yore hoss-wrangler, RoUitt."

  The foreman returned with the wrangler, whose shifty eyes widened when he saw the visitors. "You wantin' me?" he asked his employer.

  "How long you been in with Rogue?" "Ain't never," he growled. "What you gettin' at?" "The truth," Sudden retorted. A gun seemed to leap into his hand. "RoUitt, I'm givin' you a chance to come clean. If you don't, I'll kill you." The cold, merciless tone drove the threat home. The wrangler's gaze traveled round the circle of faces. "Nobody can help you," the icy voice went on. "Whatever happens to me, you'll be as dead as Moses."

  Rollitt looked at the leveled gun. "Mebbe it's a year," he said huskily. "I broke away—"

  The gun roared and a line of red on the man's cheekbone showed where the buUet had grazed him.

  "The next lie will be yore last," the marksman warned. "You've been watched, you fool. What was the word you took from that man"—he pointed to Dutt—"to Navajo?" The nearness of death had shattered the ruffian's nerves. With trembling lips he mumbled the message: "Rogue is sellin' you; get busy with the boys an' strike quickly."

  "That's a—" Dutt began, and promptly subsided when he saw Sudden's eyes upon him.

  "Well, Sam, are you taking the word of this gunman with a price on his head against me, Jethro Baudry, a respected citizen, and your friend?" the gambler asked coolly.

  Before the rancher could reply, another voice chimed in, and the little Indian hunter thrust himself forward.

  "Jethro Baudry, huh?" he piped. "When I see you in Kansas City not so far back you was Monte Jack, a card cheat who skipped outa town two-three jumps ahead o' the Vigilantes, wanted for killin' a sucker you'd trimmed —shot him under the table, didn't yuh?"

  120

  Save that it was a shade more pallid, the gambler's face did not alter. "You are mistaken, my friend," he said.

  "Monte had a scar runnin' up his right arm from wrist to elbow, where a Mexican had tried to slip a knife into him. All red an' puckered it was, like the edges had been sewed up clumsy."

  "Roll up yore right sleeve."

  It was Sudden who gave the order, and his gun was again out. Baudry's face was livid; he knew the game was up—for the moment.

  "No need—the scar's there," he admitted, and turned to Eden. "You win—for now, but don't forget I hold your paper."

  The rancher, whose rage had been steadily rising as the revelation of how he had been duped, boiled over at this.

  "You dirty thief," he cried, and gripped his gun.

  The threatened man jeered. "It would be a good way of paying your debt, wouldn't it?"

  Eden's fingers released the weapon as though it had been red hot. He glared at the scoundrel who had gauged him so correcdy. "You'U get yore money—every cent of it —when I sell the herd," he promised.

  Baudry's hps curled in a wolfish snarl. "I don't propose to," he rephed. "I'U have the money, the S-E, and—anything else I want of yours." His eyes went to Carol as he made the insolent boast. "You damned old fool," he gritted, "I'll make you curse the hour you quarreled with me. I'll break you and grind your face in the dusL When Rogue has done with you—"

  "Rogue can speak for hiinself. Mister," came a quiet voice.

  The outlaw was standing there. So absorbed had everyone been in what was taking place that they had not seen him ride in and dismount.

  "Far as I'm concerned, Eden, yore herd is safe," he began. "I can't speak for my men; that toad there has poisoned 'em an' they've named a new leader."

  "So you sneak off here to save your hide?" Baudry sneered.

  The outlaw's eyes flashed. "Best take care o' yore own," he said. "I don't owe you money." He looked at Eden.

  "Jim has given you the straight of it," he went on. "What you aimin' to do with these rats?"

  The cattleman gestured angrily to his foreman. "Clear 'em out," he ordered, and to Sudden, "Green, I'm takin' yore word, but you ain't told who drilled me."

  Sudden looked at Rogue, who shook his head. "I don't know, seh," he replied. "But it wam't Sandy."

  The rancher turned his hard eyes on that young man. "I ain't convinced," he said stubbornly, "but I'm wiUin' to be."

  A word from the foreman sent the other men about their tasks, leaving the boss and the outlaw alone. An awkward silence ensued, broken at length by the visitor:

  "Studying why I'm here, Eden?" he asked. "If you think it's because o' that scum over there you got another guess comin'. I'd 'a' shot it out with 'em, but I thought I could undo some o' the harm I done you."

  The rancher's expression was frankly sceptical.

  "Don't believe me?" the outlaw went on. "Dimno as I blame you, but it's a fact. Ain't you wondered why I let you get so far after than fandango with the 'Paches? WeU, I've been tryin' to persuade the boys that it would be a better play to let you sell the cows an' then lift the dollars, tnistin' you could find a safe place for 'em. That card sharp put a crimp in that an' here I am. What you gotta say?"

  "You can stay, but my menll have orders to shoot you at the first sign o' funny business," he decided.

  "That's on'y fair," Rogue said, and walked away.

  Thirteen

  The country stretched before them, flat, brown, uninteresting, but the trail drivers found it satisfactory, since no danger could approach unseen. The herd, spread out fan-wise, moved slowly forward and Sam Eden—able to sit in a saddle again—puUing up his pony to watch the beasts pass, exulted as he noted their fine condition. Then he frowned as he remembered that catastrophe might yet overtake them. Behind the drag, Rogue was riding alone. The rancher joined him.

  122

  ••What d'you figure them coyotes will do?'* he asked bluntly.

  "We talked it over," the oudaw replied. 'To attack on the march would shorely mean stampeding the steers; we'd have to gather 'em again an' might lose quite a mmiber—not all my men knows cattle. The other way was to wait till the herd was bedded down an' rush yore camp after dark; the night riders could be easy dealt with later. I'd say that's what they'll try, an' it'll be soon, meb-be tonight,"

  The rancher was silent for a while, furtively studying the hard face of this desperado who had striven for his ruin and was now, apparently, eager to help him. He could not understand it, and still suspected double-dealing.

  "What you know o' that fellow Sands?" he asked.

  "Mighty little," was the reply. "He drifted in one day, a piece before I met up with Green, and hung around. Didn't mix well with the rest—too clean, I reckon." He smiled and shook his head. "No harm to him: just a boy gone a bit wild."

  Evening brought them good fortune in the shape of a
disrupted strip of plain, with a camp site which could be defended.

  Supper was eaten almost in silence, and hurriedly, each man with his rifle beside him; at any moment he might have to jump up and fight for his life. Then the women were sent to lie down in the wagon and Eden posted his men, with a grim word of warning:

  "Don't shoot till yo're shore," he said. "Then—get 'em." It was nervous work kneeling there behind the barricade, waiting. Sandy, squatting beside his friend, voiced fhis thoughts. "I hope they show up—we won't find such a good place in a hundred miles."

  "I'm bettin' they do—it's pretty near their last chance, an' with no moon, they'll figure on a surprise."

  "They'll get it too," Sandy chuckled. "Where's Tyson?"

  "Saw him siftin' into the brush," Sudden rephed. "Gone to smell 'em out for us; he's a four-eyed wonder in the woods."

  The cowboy's guess was a good one. As soon as he had

  I

  eaten, the forest runner, with a word to Eden, had faded into the. shadows, leaving his beloved Betsy behind. Now, prostrate on his belly, he wriggled a way through the brush, ears attentive to the slightest sound. For an hour or more he heard nothing.

  Then came a noise, one he had been expecting—^the crack of a snapped dry twig, directly in front. Rising to his knees he drew the long, keen blade from his belt and waited. The bush beside him shook and a man on all fours appeared, pushing his rifle ahead of him. Swiftiy, silently as a striking snake, the knife flashed and the victim, without even a groan, flattened out like a prickled bladder. RoUitt would rob no more.

  A muflBied curse away to his left and another cracking of dried wood on his right told him that the marauders were getting close; he must warn the camp. With infinite caution he retraced his path; no one of the watching outfit saw him return, but the word was passed along.

  Tense moments ticked by and from behind a cactus a shadowy, indistinct form appeared gradually to grow out of the ground. It saw what it expected—the glow of a fire, and round it, dark shapes of sleeping men. A low whistle brought other shadows, and then a dozen guns shattered the silence of the night, driving bullets into the artfully arranged blankets. To the attackers' surprise, no reply came.