The Texan Part 12

The half-breed regarded him with a puzzled frown. "You mean you lak'

fer git arres'?" he asked in surprise.

"Why, of course! I--" the other interrupted with a laugh.

"A'right. Dat de kin' Sam Moore she lak' fer arres'. Sam, she layin'

back here a ways. She dipity sher'ff, an' we'n we com' on dem hoss', Sam she git to fink 'bout he's wife an' kids. He don' fink 'bout dem mooch only w'en he git dronk, or git scairt. Den he lov' 'em lak'

h.e.l.l, an' he grab de beeg belly-ache, so dey don' got for feel sorry 'bout heem gittin' keel."

Slipping his own gun into its holster, the half-breed turned and walked toward the spot where he had left the deputy, and as he walked he threw open the cylinder of the officer's gun and removed the cartridges.

"Sam!" he called sharply. Cautiously a head raised from behind a sage bush. "How long you t'ink dat tak' you git well? Wan man he lak' for git arres' w'en you git time."

"Shut up! Don't talk so loud! D'you want to git us killed? Which one got it?"

"Purdy. De pilgrim shoot heem 'cause he run off wit' he's girl."

"Pilgrim! What pilgrim! An' what girl? Ain't that Tex Benton's horse, an' Cinnabar Joe's----?"

"Uh-huh, A'm bor' heem Tex boss for ketch Purdy. An', Ba goss, he shoot heem on he's head after Purdy draw'd!"

Moore stared aghast. "What? A pilgrim done that? Not on yer life!

He may look an' act like a pilgrim but, take it from me, he's a desperate character if he got Purdy after he draw'd. It's worser than if it was Tex. _He_ might of took pity on us, knowin' about the fambly. But a stranger, an' one that kin git a man like Jack Purdy!

O-o-o-o, my stummick! Bat, I'm 'fraid I'm a-pa.s.sin' away! These spells is a-killin' me--an' what'll become of the woman an' the kids?"

The half-breed grinned: "Mebbe-so you kin' pa.s.s back agin, Sam. He ain' got no gun."

Sam Moore ceased to writhe, and sat abruptly erect. "Ain't got no gun!" he exclaimed. "What did he shoot Purdy with?"

"My gun. He giv' it back to me. A'm bor' heem dat gun li'l while ago."

The deputy sprang to his feet. "Quick, now, Bat!" he roared loudly.

"You slip these irons on him, an' I'll catch up the horses. Don't take no chances!" He tossed the half-breed a pair of hand-cuffs, and started after his own horse. "Kill him if he makes a crooked move.

Tell him you're actin' under my authority an' let him understand we're hard men to tamper with--us sheriffs. We don't stand fer no foolin'."

In Curly Hardee's dance-hall Tex Benton leaned against the wall and idly watched the couples weave in and out upon the floor to the whining accompaniment of the fiddles and the clanging piano.

Apparently the cowboy's interest centred solely upon the dancers, but a close observer would have noticed the keen glance with which he scanned each new arrival--noticed too, that after a few short puffs on a cigarette the man tossed it to the floor and immediately rolled another, which is not in the manner of a man with a mind at ease.

The Texan saw Endicott enter the room, watched as the man's eyes swept the faces of dancers and spectators, and smiled as he turned toward the door.

"Three of us," mused the cowboy, with the peculiar smile still twisting the corners of his lips, "Purdy, an' me, an' the pilgrim. Purdy's work's so coa.r.s.e he'll gum his own game, an' that's where I come in.

An' the pilgrim--I ain't quite figgered how he stacks up." The cowpuncher glanced at his watch. "It's time they showed up long ago.

I wonder what's keepin' em." Suddenly he straightened himself with a jerk: "Good Lord! I wonder if---- But no, not even Purdy would try _that_. Still, if he knows I know he tried to dope me he'll be figgerin' on pullin' his freight anyhow, an'--" The man's lips tightened and, elbowing his way to the door he stepped onto the street and hurried to the Headquarters saloon. Cinnabar Joe was behind the bar, apparently none the worse for his dose of chloral, and in answer to a swift signal, followed the Texan to the rear of the room.

"Does Purdy know I'm wise to his dope game?"

The bartender nodded: "Yes, I told him you must of switched the gla.s.ses."

"I saw him leadin' your horse rigged up with your side-saddle acrost the flats awhile back."

Again the bartender nodded: "He borrowed the outfit fer a gal of his'n he said come in on the train. Wanted to take her fer a ride."

"Where'd they go?" The words whipped viciously.

"Search me! I've had my hands full to keep track of what's goin' on in here, let alone outside."

Without a word the Texan stepped out the back door and hastened toward the horse corral behind the livery stable. Circling its fence to the head of the alley, he stared in surprise at the spot where he and Bat Lajune had tied their horses. The animals were gone, and cursing the half-breed at every step, he rushed to the street, and catching up the reins of a big roan that stood in a group of horses, swung into the saddle and headed out onto the trail.

"Women are fools," he muttered savagely. "It beats h.e.l.l what even the sensible ones will fall for!"

At the up-bend of the trail he halted abruptly and listened. From the shadows of the coulee ahead came the sound of voices and the soft sc.r.a.ping of horses' feet. He drew the roan into a cottonwood thicket and waited.

"Somethin' funny here. n.o.body ever come to a dance ridin' at a walk,"

he muttered, and then as the little cavalcade broke into the bright moonlight at a bend of the trail, his eyes widened with surprise. In front rode Bat Lajune with Purdy's horse snubbed to his saddle-horn, and immediately following him were the girl and Endicott riding side by side. Tex saw that the girl was crying, and that Endicott's hands were manacled, and that he rode the missing horse. Behind them rode Sam Moore, pompously erect, a six-shooter laid across the horn of his saddle, and a scowl of conceited importance upon his face that would have evoked the envy of the Kaiser of Krautland. The figure appealed to the Texan's sense of humour and waiting until the deputy was exactly opposite his place of concealment, he filled his lungs and leaned forward in his saddle.

"Y-e-e-e-o-w!" The sound blared out like the shrill of doom. The officer's six-shooter thudded upon the ground, his hands grasped the horn of the saddle, his spurs dug into his horse's flanks and sent the animal cras.h.i.+ng between the girl and Endicott and caused Purdy's horse to tear loose from the half-breed's saddle-horn.

"Stand 'em off, Bat!" shrieked the deputy as he shot past, "I'm a-goin'

fer help!" and away he tore, leaning far over his horse's neck, with Purdy's horse, the stirrups las.h.i.+ng his sides, das.h.i.+ng madly in his wake.

A moment later Tex pushed his mount into the trail where the girl, drawn close to Endicott, waited in fearful expectation. The half-breed met him with a grin.

Rapidly, with many e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns interspersing explosive volleys of half-intelligible words, Bat acquainted the Texan with the progress of events. The cowpuncher listened without comment until the other had finished. Then he turned to Endicott.

"Where'd you learn to shoot?" he asked abruptly.

"I never learned. Until tonight I never had a pistol in my hand."

"You done d.a.m.ned well--to start out with," commented the Texan dryly.

"But, oh, it's horrible!" sobbed the girl, "and it's all my fault!"

"I reckon that's right. It looks like a bad mix-up all around."

"Oh, why didn't you tell me what a _beast_ he was? You knew all the time. And when you insulted him I thought you were _horrid_! And I thought he was so n.o.ble when he refrained from shooting you."

"No. He wasn't n.o.ble, none noticeable--Purdy wasn't. An' as for me tellin' you about him--answer me square: Would you have believed me?"

The girl's eyes fell before his steady gaze.

"No," she faltered, "I wouldn't. But isn't there something we can do?

Some way out of this awful mess?"

The Texan's eyes flashed a glint of daring. He was thinking rapidly.

Endicott moved his horse closer to the cowboy. "Can't you manage to get _her_ away--onto a train some place so she can avoid the annoyance of having to testify at the trial, and submit to the insulting remarks of your sheriff?"

The girl interrupted him: "Winthrop Adams Endicott, if you dare to even think _such_ a thing--I'll never speak to you again! Indeed he _won't_ take me away or put me on any train! I got you into this, and I won't budge one inch until you get out of it. What do I care for a little annoyance--and as for the sheriff, I'll say 'boo' at him in the dark and he'll die."