When 'Bear Cat' Went Dry Part 19

But as Turner gripped the k.n.o.b, Jerry Henderson laid a deterring hand on his shoulder. "Just a moment, Bear Cat," he said quietly. Somewhat to his surprise the younger man paused and, as he turned his face questioningly to the speaker, some part of its fury dissolved.

"This is a time, Turner, when it's mighty easy to make a mistake," went on the promoter earnestly. "If your father sent for you, it's pretty certain that he wants to speak to you before you take any step."

"Thet's identically what he bade me caution ye, Bear Cat," echoed White. "He 'lowed thar'd be time enough fer reprisal later on."

"Mr. White," Henderson demanded as he turned and fronted the marshal with a questioning gaze, "before he goes over there, I want you to give me your hand that this isn't a scheme to get Bear Cat Stacy in the jail under false pretenses, so that he can be more easily arrested."

"An' answer thet honest," Turner warned vehemently, "because ef I don't walk outen thet jail-house es free es I goes inter hit, you won't never leave hit alive yoreself, Jud. How comes. .h.i.t ther revenue didn't seek ter arrest me, too?"

"So holp me Almighty G.o.d, men," the voice of the officer carried conviction of its sincerity. "I came over hyar only bearin' tidin's from Lone Stacy. I hain't aidin' no revenue. I heered Mark Tapper 'low thet he hedn't no charge ter mek ergin ye jest now."

"In that case," declared Henderson, a.s.suming the role of spokesman, "we'll both go with you to the jail. Bear Cat will give me the gun, since he can't go in unsearched, and you will remain with me, unarmed, as a hostage until he comes out."

"Thet satisfies me, all right," readily agreed the town marshal.

The jail-house at Marlin Town squats low of roof and uncompromising in its squareness to the left of the Courthouse; hardly more than a brick pen, st.u.r.dily solid and sullenly unlovely of facade.

When father and son met in the bare room where one rude chair was the only furnis.h.i.+ng save for a tin basin on a soap-box, the fire of renewed wrath leaped in Turner's eyes and he spoke with a tremor of voice:

"I reckon ye knows full well, pap, thet I don't aim ter let ye lay hyar long. I aims ter tek ye outen hyar afore sun-up--ef I hes ter take ye single-handed!"

The sunset was fading and in the bleak cell there was a grayness relieved only by the dim light from a high, barred slit that served as a window. The two men had to peer intently at each other through widened pupils to read the expression of lips and eyes.

Old Lone Stacy smiled grimly.

"I'm obleeged ter ye, son." His response was quiet. "An' I knows ye means what ye says, but jest now ye've got ter let _me_ decide whether hit's a fit time ter wage war--or submit."

"Submit!" echoed the son in blank amazement. "Ye don't aim ter let 'em penitenshery ye ergin, does ye?"

Laying a soothing hand on the arm that shook pa.s.sionately, the senior went on in a modulated voice.

"I've done studied this matter out, son, more ca'mly then you've hed time ter do yit--an' I discerns how ye kin holp me best. Sometimes. .h.i.t profits a man more ter study ther fox then ther eagle."

The boy stood there in the half light, finding it bitter to stomach such pa.s.sive counsel, but he gulped down his rising gorge of fury and forced himself to acquiesce calmly, "I'm hearkenin' ter ye."

"Ther revenue 'lowed thet he war plumb obleeged ter jail me," went on the elder moons.h.i.+ner evenly, "because tidin's hes done reached ther men up above him."

"I aims ter compel Mark Tapper ter give me ther names of them d.a.m.n'

tale-bearers," exploded Bear Cat violently, "an' I'm a-goin' ter settle with him an' them, too, in due course."

But again Lone Stacy shook his head.

"Thet would only bring on more trouble," he declared steadfastly. "Mark Tapper made admission thet he hes a weak case, an' he said thet ef I went with him peaceable he wouldn't press. .h.i.t no further then what he war compelled ter. He 'lowed he hedn't no evi_dence_ erginst _you_. I don't believe he's seed our still yit an' ef ye heeds my counsel, he won't never see hit."

"What does ye counsel then? I'm a-listenin'."

Lone Stacy's voice cast off its almost conciliating tone and became one of command. "I wants thet ye sh.e.l.l ride back over thar es fast es a beast kin carry ye--an' git thar afore ther revenue. I wants thet ye sh.e.l.l move thet still into a place of safe concealment erginst his comin', I wants thet 'stid of tryin' ter carc.u.mvent him ye sha'n't be thar at all when he comes."

"Not be thar?" The words were echoed in surprise, and the older head bowed gravely.

"Jist so. Ef they don't find ther copper worm ner ther kittle--an'

don't git ye ter testify ergin me, I've still got a right gay chanst ter come cl'ar."

"Does ye 'low," demanded the son with deeply hurt pride, "that anybody this side of h.e.l.l-a-poppin' could fo'ce me ter give testimony ergin my own blood?"

Again the wrinkled hand of the father fell on the shoulder of his son.

It was as near to a caress as his undemonstrative nature could approach.

"I wouldn't hev ye perjure yoreself, son--an' without ye did thet--ye'd convict me--ef ye was thar in Co'te."

Turner glanced up at the narrow slit in the brick wall through which now showed only a greenish strip of pallid sky. His lips worked spasmodically. "I come over hyar resolved ter sot ye free," he said slowly, "ter fight my way outen hyar an' take ye along with me--but I'm ready ter heed yore counsel."

"Then ride over home es fast es ye kin go--an' when ye've told yore maw what's happened, an' hid ther still, take Lee along with ye an' go cl'ar acrost inter Virginny whar no summons sarver kain't find ye. Stay plumb away from hyar till I sends ye word. Tell yore maw where I kin reach ye, but don't tell me. I wants ter swear I don't know."

Bear Cat hesitated, then his voice shook with a storm of protest.

"I don't delight none thet ye should go down thar an' sulter in jail whilst I'm up hyar enjoyin' freedom."

The older man met this impetuous outburst with the stoic's fine tranquillity.

"When they tuck me afore," he said, "I left yore maw unprotected behind me an' you was only a burden on her then. Now I kin go easy in my mind, knowin' she's got you." The prisoner's voice softened. "She war a mighty purty gal, yore maw, in them times. Right sensibly Blossom Fulkerson puts me in mind of her now."

Lone Stacy broke off with abruptness and added gruffly: "I reckon ye'd better be a-startin' home now--hit's comin' on ter be nightfall."

As Turner Stacy went out he turned and looked back. The cell was almost totally dark now and its inmate had reseated himself, his shoulders sagging dejectedly. "I'll do what he bids me now," Bear Cat told himself grimly, "but some day thar's a-goin' ter be a reckonin'."

On his way to the livery stable he met Kinnard Towers on foot but, as always, under escort. Still stinging under the chagrin of an hereditary enemy's gratuitous intervention in his behalf and a deep-seated suspicion of the man, he halted stiffly and his brow was lowering.

"Air these hyar tidin's true, Bear Cat? I've heerd thet yore paw's done been jailed," demanded Kinnard solicitously, ignoring the coldness of his greeting. "Kin I holp ye in any fas.h.i.+on?"

"No, we don't need no aid," was the curt response. "Ef we did we'd call on ther Stacys fer hit."

Towers smiled. "I aimed ter show ye this a'tternoon thet I _felt_ friendly, Turner."

The manner was seemingly so sincere that the young man felt ashamed of his contrasting churlishness and hastened to amend it.

"I reckon I hev need ter ask yore pardon, Kinnard. I'm sore fretted about this matter."

"An' I don't blame ye neither, son. I jest stopped ter acquaint ye with what folks says. This hyar whole matter looks like a sort of bluff on Mark Tapper's part ter make a good showin' with ther govern_ment_. He hain't hardly got nothin' but hearsay ter go on--unless he kin make _you_ testify. Ef ye was ter kinderly disappear now fer a s.p.a.ce of time, I reckon nothin' much wouldn't come of hit."

"I'm obleeged ter ye Kinnard. Paw hes don' give me ther same counsel,"

said Bear Cat, as he hurried to the stable where he parted with Jerry Henderson after a brief and earnest interview.

It was with a very set face and with very deep thoughts that Bear Cat Stacy set out for his home on Little Slippery. He rode all night with the starlight and the clean sweep of mountain wind in his face, and at sunrise stabled his mount at the cabin of a kinsman and started on again by a short cut "over the roughs" where a man can travel faster on foot.

When eventually he entered the door of his house his mother looked across the dish she was drying to inquire, "Where's yore paw at?"

He told her and, under the sudden scorn in her eyes, he flinched.