Charlie to the Rescue Part 40

"No, we mightn't," interrupted Crux stoutly. "The Flint got off easy in _my_ opinion. If I had had the doin' o't, I'd have roasted him alive."

"No, you wouldn't, Crux," returned Ben, with a benignant smile. "Young chaps like you are always, accordin' to your own showin', worse than the devil himself when your blood's roused by indignation at cruelty or injustice, but you sing a good deal softer when you come to the scratch with your enemy in your power."

"You're wrong, Hunky Ben," retorted Crux firmly. "Any man as would blow the brains out of a poor old woman in cold blood, as the Flint did, desarves the worst that can be done to him."

"I didn't say nowt about what _he_ desarves," returned the scout; "I was speakin' about what _you_ would do if you'd got the killin' of him."

"Well, well, mates," said d.i.c.k Darvall, a little impatiently, "seems to me that we're wastin' our wind, for the miserable wretch, bein' defunct, is beyond the malice o' red man or white. I therefore vote that we stop palaverin', 'bout s.h.i.+p, clap on all sail an' lay our course for home."

This suggestion met with general approval, and the curious mixture of men and races, which had thus for a brief period been banded together under the influence of a united purpose, prepared to break up.

"I suppose you an' Darvall will make tracks for Traitor's Trap," said Crux to Hunky Ben.

"That's my trail to be," answered the scout. "What say you, Black Polly? Are ye game for such a spin to-night?"

The mare arched her glossy neck, put back both ears, and gave other indications that she would have fully appreciated the remarks of her master if she had only understood them.

"Ah! Bluefire and I don't talk in that style," said Crux, with a laugh.

"I give him his orders an' he knows that he's got to obey. He and I will make a bee-line for David's Store an' have a drink. Who'll keep me company?"

Several of the more reckless among the men intimated their willingness to join the toper. The rest said they had other business on hand than to go carousin' around.

"Why, Crux," said one who had been a very lively member of the party during the ride out, "d'ye know, boy, that it's writ in the book o' Fate that you an' I an' all of us, have just got so many beats o' the pulse allowed us--no more an' no less--an' we're free to run the beats out fast or slow, just as we like? There's nothin' like drink for makin'

'em go fast!"

"I don't believe that, Robin Stout," returned Crux; "an' even if I did believe it I'd go on just the same, for I prefer a short life and a merry one to a long life an' a wishy-washy miserable one."

"Hear! hear!" exclaimed several of the topers.

"Don't ye think, Crux," interposed Darvall, "that a long life an' a happy one might be better than either?"

"Hear! _hear_!" remarked Hunky Ben, with a quiet laugh.

"Well, boys," said one fine bright-looking young fellow, patting the neck of his pony, "whether my life is to be long or short, merry, wishy-washy or happy, I shall be off cow-punching for the next six months or so, somewhere about the African bend, on the Colorado River, in South Texas, an' I mean to try an' keep my pulse a-goin' _without_ drink. I've seen more than enough o' the curse that comes to us all on account of it, and I won't be caught in _that_ trap again."

"Then you've bin caught in it once already, Jo Pinto?" said a comrade.

"Ay, I just have, but, you bet, it's the last time. I don't see the fun of makin' my veins a channel for firewater, and then finis.h.i.+n' off with D.T., if bullet or knife should leave me to go that length."

"I suppose, Pinto," said Crux, with a smile of contempt, "that you've bin to hear that mad fellow Gough, who's bin howlin' around in these parts of late?"

"That's so," retorted Pinto, flus.h.i.+ng with sudden anger. "I've been to hear J.B. Gough, an' what's more I mean to take his advice in spite of all the flap-jack soakers 'tween the Atlantic and the Rockies. He's a true man, is Gough, every inch of him, and men and women that's bin used chiefly to cursin' in time past have heaped more blessin's on that man's head than would sink you, Crux,--if put by mistake on _your_ head--right through the lowest end o' the bottomless pit."

"Pretty deep that, anyhow!" exclaimed Crux, with a careless laugh, for he had no mind to quarrel with the stout young cow-boy whose black eyes he had made to flash so keenly.

"It seems to me," said another of the band, as he hung the coils of his la.s.so round the horn of his Mexican saddle, "that we must quit talkin'

unless we make up our minds to stop here till sun-up. Who's goin'

north? My old boss is financially busted, so I've hired to P.T.

Granger, who has started a new ranch at the head o' Pugit's Creek. He wants one or two good hands I know, an' I've reason to believe he's an honest man. I go up trail at thirty dollars per month. The outfit's to consist of thirty hundred head of Texas steers, a chuck wagon and cook, with thirty riders includin' the boss himself an' six horses to the man."

A couple of stout-looking cow-boys offered to join the last speaker on the strength of his representations, and then, as the night bid fair to be bright and calm, the whole band scattered and galloped away in separate groups over the moonlit plains.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

THEY RETURN TO THE RANCH OF ROARING BULL, WHERE SOMETHING SERIOUS HAPPENS TO d.i.c.k DARVALL.

When d.i.c.k Darvall and Hunky Ben returned from the expedition which we have just described, they found all right at the cave, except that a letter to Leather had been sent up from Bull's ranch which had caused him much grief and anxiety.

"I have been eagerly awaiting your return, Ben," said Charlie Brooke, when he and the scout went outside the cave to talk the matter over, "for the news in this letter has thrown poor Leather back considerably, and, as he will continue to fret about it and get worse, something must be done."

He paused for a few moments, and the scout gravely waited for him to resume.

"The fact is," continued Charlie, "that poor Leather's father has been given far too much to the bottle during a great part of his life, and the letter just received tells us that he has suddenly left home and gone no one knows where. Now, my friend Leather and his father were always very fond of each other, and the son cannot forgive himself for having at various times rather encouraged his father in drinking, so that his conscience is reproaching him terribly, as you may well believe, and he insists on it that he is now quite able to undertake the voyage home. You and I know, Ben, that in his present state it would be madness for him to attempt it; yet to lie and fret here would be almost as bad. Now, what is your advice?"

For some moments the scout stood silent with his eyes on the ground and his right hand grasping his chin--his usual att.i.tude when engaged in meditation.

"Is there enough o' dollars," he asked, "to let you do as ye like?"

"No lack of dollars, I dare say, when needed," replied Charlie.

"Then my advice," returned the scout promptly, "is to take Leather straight off to-morrow mornin' to Bull's ranch; make him comfortable there, call him Mister Shank,--so as n.o.body'll think he's been the man called Leather, who's bin so long ill along wi' poor Buck Tom's gang,-- and then you go off to old England to follow his father's trail till you find him. Leather has great belief in you, sir, and the feelin' that you are away doin' your best for him will do more to relieve his mind and strengthen his body than tons o' doctor's stuff. d.i.c.k Darvall could remain to take care of him if he has no objection."

"I rather think he would be well pleased to do so," replied Charlie, with a laugh of significance, which the scout quietly subjected to a.n.a.lysis in what he styled his brain-pan, and made a note of the result in his mental memorandum book!

"But I doubt if Leather--"

"Shank," interrupted the scout. "Call him Shank from now, so's we may all git used to it; tho' p'r'aps it ain't o' much importance, for most o' the men that saw him here saw him in uncommon bad condition an' would hardly know him again, besides, they won't likely be at Bull's ranch, an' the captain an' troops that were here have been ordered down south.

Still one can never be too careful when life and death may be i' the balance. Your friend niver was one o' the outlaws, but it mightn't be easy to prove that."

"Well, then," resumed our hero, "I was going to say that I fear Shank won't be able to stand the journey even to the ranch."

"No fear of that, sir. We'll carry him down to the foot o' the Trap, an' when we git out on the plain mount him on one o' the horses left by poor Buck--the one that goes along so quiet that they've given it the name o' the Wheelbarrow."

"Should I speak to him to-night about our plan, Ben?"

"No. If I was you I'd only say we're goin' to take him down to Bull's ranch i' the mornin'. That'll take his mind a bit off the letter, an'

then it'll give him an extra lift when you tell him the rest o' the plan."

In accordance with this arrangement, on the following morning a litter was made with two stout poles and a blanket between. On this the invalid was laid after an early breakfast; another blanket was spread over him, and the scout and d.i.c.k, taking it up between them, carried him out of Traitor's Trap, while Charlie Brooke, riding Jackson's horse, led the Wheelbarrow by the bridle. As for Black Polly, she was left to follow at her own convenience, a whistle from Hunky Ben being at any moment sufficient to bring her promptly to her master's side.

On reaching the plain the litter was laid aside, the blankets were fastened to the horses, and Shank prepared, as d.i.c.k said, to board Wheelbarrow.

"Now then, Shank," said the seaman, while helping his friend, "don't be in a hurry. Nothin' was ever done well in a hurry either afloat or ash.o.r.e. Git your futt well into the stirrup an' don't take too much of a spring, else you'll be apt to go right over on the starboard side.

Hup you go!"

The worthy sailor lent such willing aid that there is little doubt he would have precipitated the catastrophe against which he warned, had not Hunky Ben placed himself on the "starboard side" of the steed and counteracted the heave. After that all went well; the amble of the Wheelbarrow fully justified the t.i.tle, and in due course the party arrived at the ranch of Roaring Bull, where the poor invalid was confined to his room for a considerable time thereafter, and became known at the ranch as Mr Shank.