The Lost Wagon Part 53

"It's me."

He came slowly on his horse, and by the light of the stars Joe saw that he was leading a black mule. The horse mule called softly, walked to the end of his rope, and stared. The mule knew what was coming and he would welcome one of his own kind where he would not tolerate a horse.

Joe said, "You got one, huh?"

"I got one."

"Where'd you get him?"

"Stole him," Ellis replied tersely.

Joe stood rooted in his tracks. Ellis's statement hit him like a thunderbolt. He licked dry lips.

"That's right," Ellis said. "A couple of trappers have about forty mules in a corral up the trail. When I asked them to sell me one they didn't seem interested. I waited until nightfall and took one." He fixed Joe with a tired and angry glare. "Any complaints?"

Joe's jaw worked. The boy's headstrong action, and the cool way he told about it, frightened Joe anew. What other willful and dishonest actions was he capable of? What was his Bobby getting into?

He tried to control himself. "You shouldn't have done that, Ellis."

Ellis squared around to face him. "I expected you to say exactly that,"

he muttered. "Just how did you expect us to move on without another mule?"

Joe had no immediate answer. He stood quiet, staring unhappily into Ellis's sullen face. "We'll take him back," he said.

"If that's the way you want it," Ellis said.

In the darkness, Joe walked to the black mule and laid a hand on his powerful neck. The mule smelled him over and nibbled Joe's arm with his lips. Ellis had brought no bronco, but a harness-broken mule. Joe tied a rope to his halter and picketed him in the gra.s.s. The horse did not protest when he was led away from the mare and picketed near.

Joe said shortly, "Better turn in, Ellis."

"All right."

Ellis spread his bedroll beside the wagon while Joe sought his bed inside. It was true that they had to have a mule and, in Ellis's place, he didn't know what he might have done. He supposed he'd have continued on farther until he could buy a mule, even if it took another day or two. But it wasn't only the stealing of the mule--it was Ellis's calm way of reporting it that shocked him. The calm way, he knew, was a cover-up for real anger. But why the anger? The whole thing worried him and it was some time before he could fall asleep. When he awakened the soft light of early dawn had found its way into the wagon. Joe lay quietly for a few minutes. They must return the stolen mule, or else arrange to pay for it, but they might as well hitch both and drive down to the trappers' corral. Joe climbed out the rear of the wagon and made his way to the front.

He heard the crack of the rifle, and felt the bullet smack into the ground at his feet. Shocked with surprise, Joe stood still and for a moment his mind was incapable of directing his body. Still half asleep, Ellis sat up in his bedroll. There came a voice.

"Don't neither of ye move thar! Stand right still thar!"

They came from behind a huge boulder whose arched back lifted from the earth about sixty yards away. They were two men dressed in greasy buckskin and with long black hair brus.h.i.+ng their shoulders. The man who had shot carried a rifle in the crook of his arm but there was a pistol in his hand. They advanced purposefully, menacingly, and the morning wind ruffled their s.h.a.ggy hair.

"Move," the smaller one said, "an' I'll drill ye clean. Bring him up, Pete."

Holstering his revolver, the tall man untethered the black mule and brought him up to the wagon. Joe had a glance for the mule, a powerful beast that had not yet shed his long winter hair. The brisk wind played with it, laying it back along the black mule's flank and ribs. The smaller man looked at Joe's horse mule.

"Mought's well have 'em both. Git that one too."

"Now wait a minute--" Joe began.

"Don't 'wait a minute' me. My finger's right oneasy on this trigger an'

I'd just as soon shoot a mule rustler."

"We were going to bring him back."

The smaller man laughed jeeringly and another rifle cracked as Tad shot from behind the wagon. There was a sodden "splat" as the bullet struck the muzzle of the rifle covering Joe and Ellis. It snapped out of the short man's hands, dropped to the ground, and as it did the black mule began to rear. The man holding him reached frantically for his revolver, but he needed both hands on the rope. Ellis dived to his bedroll and rose to a kneeling position with his own rifle.

"Suppose," he said almost pleasantly, "that you two take a turn at not moving! I can shoot, too."

Rage overspread the smaller man's face. The mule quieted, and the man holding him tried to slip beside him. But Joe had his rifle and Tad was reloading.

Joe said quietly, "Get the mule, Ellis."

Ellis walked up to take the black mule. He led him aside, and Joe remained quiet.

"You two drop your guns."

They let their firearms fall to the ground. Joe ordered, "Now get out.

You can pick up your guns after we leave. But if we see either of you again, we'll shoot to kill."

They strode back toward where they'd left whatever mounts they'd ridden here. Pale and shaken, Emma got out of the wagon to stand beside Joe.

"Joe, those men will give us trouble!"

Ellis, standing beside the black mule, spoke to Joe. "How come you didn't give them back their mule?"

"Because it isn't their mule," Joe said. "Those men are rustlers. All they'll do is hightail it back to wherever they left their other stolen stock and get out of the country."

"Exactly," said Ellis. With his hand he parted the hair on the mule's side, revealing a brand. "This is an army mule. It can be returned when we get to Camp Axton, which is probably where it was stolen in the first place."

Joe stared at him in astonishment. "You knew this all the time?"

"I know the army brand when I see it," Ellis said.

"Then why in tarnation didn't you tell me!"

Ellis gave him a straight look. "Because I knew you would put the worst possible interpretation on anything I did. I knew if I stole a mule, you'd be ready to blast out at me before I had a chance to explain." He clenched his teeth. "So I didn't feel like hurrying to explain."

Joe was fl.u.s.tered. "Too proud to explain, is that it?" he said. "By not explaining, you hoped to make a fool of me, is that it?"

Ellis ignored the accusation. "The way I figured," he said, "this mule will take us to Axton, and once we're there we stand a better chance to buy a mule than we do out here in the middle of the prairie."

"Very true," said Joe. Ellis and Joe exchanged a long, silent look, in which Ellis accused Joe of judging him too hastily and Joe accused Ellis of making a fool of him by not explaining.

Bobby went to stand at Ellis's side. Her movement was a shock to Joe. It made him question himself. Was he looking for trouble with Ellis, perhaps more than he had any need to?

Joe swallowed his pride. "I been doing too much judging, Ellis," he said. "And I'm sorry."

Ellis grinned. "Forget it," he said. "When I get mad, I get ornery. I got plenty of work to do on my temper."