CHAPTER XVIII
KARL TO THE RESCUE
Dave, harboring a fermenting acerbity beside which the Spartan boy'swolf was a tickling parasite, lay hidden behind a stunted pine, hisglasses trained on the Schatz cabin. Sourly he reviewed his severalplans, each coming to nought as surely as if Peters had been made awareof it in its inception. The last grand coup, from which he had expectedto derive immediate benefit, had arrived prematurely and mysteriously atits unexpected denouement; and that fool Saxe, upon whom he had reliedto create a diversion, must needs keep himself hidden, to turn up whenhis efforts would be worse than useless. And then to come to Dave to bepaid for making a fool of himself! He cursed aloud at the recollection."It was a good scheme, too," he asserted savagely. No use telling himall those cows had stampeded and hurled themselves to destruction--"Whenthe money for 'em was as good as mine." It had never been his realintention to allow Murray and Jack to divide the profits and by acurious mental strabismus he readily saw how he had been robbed. Butlosing the money was not the only nor the greatest blow. The injury tohis sorely tried vanity hurt the most. He had been beaten, not so muchby the enemy as by one of his friends.
Clouded by that same vanity his reason had acquitted all those who mighthave betrayed him, excepting Schatz. Rose, a woman who loved him--hehad dismissed the thought with scorn; Comin', Cock Murray; they had allto lose and nothing to gain by treachery: and all the others were boundto him by ties, the weakest of which was stronger than any Buck couldhave formed in the time. Schatz alone might prove a gainer. He did notknow in what way, but purposed to discover. That was why he waswatching now. He knew Schatz was at home: he had seen the smoke of hisbreakfast fire. "Allus _is_ home," he grated. He anticipated thecalling of Schatz' agents at the cabin and when Schatz came out andfinally rode off on the Twin River trail, Dave was disconcerted. Hefollowed with much care, making good use of his glasses. The sight ofSchatz turning off the trail and riding toward the Double Y ranch housefilled him with a cold fury.--He determined to intercept him on hisreturn and have it out on the spot.
But Dave, intent upon the unconscious back of Karl, had been careless ofthe surrounding country; and only his luck in choosing to wait in aplace remote from cover, saved him just then from a rude awakening.Dodging about in the vain effort to approach to a point of vantage, wasPickles; he had finished certain mystic incantations involving therunning at speed in circles, and was returning to await the fulfilmentof his wish. Filled with awe as he was at this swift response, it didnot prevent him from acting upon it.
His arrival at the nearest possible point showed him that Dave was stillout of range. For the first time a doubt of Buck's omniscience assailedhim: it was no part of wisdom to arm a man with a rifle of that sort.With cautious speed he retraced his steps, mounted the Goat, andscurried for the ranch by a roundabout route. There was nothinghaphazard about this; his ideas were clearly defined: did n't RedConnors always borrow Hopalong's Sharps for long range? That showed.Pickles had implicit faith in the rifle. All that worried him was thatDave might not wait long enough.
Karl rode leisurely up to the ranch house and called. Mary came to thedoor and behind her Buck, whose brow was wrinkled in the effort ofcomposing a letter to McAllister. It was not an easy letter to writeand Buck had enlisted Whitby's services. He asked Karl to climb downand come inside. Mary had disappeared with a promptitude due toinstinctive dislike. Karl was not a man to invite the admiration of anywoman at the best of times and now his appearance gave abundant proof ofits being long past "chipping-time."
Karl entered with the unexpected lightness of step so often acompensating grace in fat men, shook hands with Whitby, accepted theproffered chair, and plunged into the reason of his visit with butlittle preamble. Whitby sat making idle marks with his pen; soon hebegan to write swiftly.
"Big lot of cows you loose, ain'd it?" he asked.
"A few," replied Buck.
"Vat you t'ink: stampede?"
"Looks like it."
"_Look_ like it? _Donnerwetter_! Look like a drive."
"You seen it?"
Karl nodded. "Look like a drive," he repeated.
"Would n't surprise me none," admitted Buck. "We had Injuns shootin' 'emon th' range last night."
"_Himmel_! Vat fools!"
"Looks like they 're tryin' to drive me off 'n th' range."
"_Yah, aber_ not me. Ten years und no trouble come."
"Huh! Well, what would _you_ do?"
"Fight," advised Karl. "I vill fight if you let me in. I haf a plan."
"In where?" asked Buck, in some wonder.
"In der ranch--a partner. Look! Cows you must haf, money you must haf,brains you must haf: I bring dem. I bring shust so much money as youund your partner togedder. Der money in der bank _geht_. You buy dercows, goot stock, besser as before. Goot cows, goot prices, ain'd it?You pay for everyt'ing mit der money in der bank. I stay here und stopdot foolishness mit precipices und parasites und shooting. Vat youdink?"
"Let me get you. You want to buy in on the Double Y, equal partners. Iput in so much, McAllister puts in so much, and you put in as much asboth of us. Th' money goes in th' bank an' I have th' spendin' of it.You do yore share o' th' work an' yo 're dead certain you can stop th'deviltry on th' range. Is that it?"
"_Yah!_" assented Karl, emphatically.
Buck was astounded at the audacity of the proposal. His gaze wandered toWhitby, whose pen was moving over the paper with a speed that impressedBuck, busy as his mind was. Outside, a horseman clattered up to thehouse and Mary, from the kitchen door, motioned Hopalong to come in thatway. The door had no sooner closed behind him than Pickles sped fromthe security of the stable, slipped Hoppy's rifle from the saddleholster, and half a minute later the Goat went tearing away, bearing thetriumphant boy and the coveted rifle to another scene of operations.For tenacity of purpose and facility of execution, Pickles was alreadysuperior to most men.
Buck recovered his wits and faced the expectant Schatz. "I just beena-writin' to McAllister," he informed him. "You 'll have to give metime to see what he says. Let's liquor."
* * * * *
Buck stood in the door watching Karl ride away; the expressionless facegave no hint of his feelings unless it were found in a certain coldhardness of the gray eyes in their steady stare, fixed upon the broadback of the receding German. Leaving this mark, his glance fell on thehorse, waiting patiently for its late rider, and he turned back into theroom and called: "Hoppy!" Hopalong came in from the kitchen and Buckmet his entry with the question: "What do you think that Dutch hog comefor?"
Hopalong glanced meaningly at Whitby, who still appeared to be writingagainst time. "That's all right," asserted Buck, "I 'm a-copperin' mybets from now on. Schatz wants to buy in as a partner an' reckons hecan stop th' Double Y from losin' any more stock, long 's he 's in onth' deal."
"What 'd _you_ say?" asked Hopalong.
"Nothin'. I wanted a chance to get my breath."
"Well, I would n't flirt with that proposition, not any."
"Why, curse his fool hide, what do I want with him or his money? If hecan stop th' deviltry mebby he 's at th' bottom of it; an' if he is, itwon't be long afore we know it. Next time he comes I 'll tell him to goplumb to h--l."
"I would n't, Buck."
"What's that?" asked Buck, staring hard at Whitby.
"I would n't," repeated Whitby. "I fancy it's time you learned what Iknow. This German chap, now. You can't fight him yet, Buck; you can't,really."
"Oh, can't I!" exclaimed Buck. "What do you know about it?"
"I know all about it, I should say all that can be found out. Do youmind if we have in Mrs. Cassidy? Clever woman, Mrs. Cassidy."
He left the room while Buck and Hopalong eyed each other helplessly."D--d if he ain't tellin' me what kind of a wife I 've got," complainedHopalong. Mary came in, followe
d by Whitby.
"Now if you two boys 'll only listen to Whitby, you 'll learnsomethin'," promised Mary.
"It began in Chicago," said Whitby. "Beastly hole, Chicago. I was n'tat all sorry to leave it, except--but that's neither here nor there.McAllister is a friend of mine and he rather thought Buck under-ratedthe difficulties here; so he asked me to run out and look it over. Isoon found it was jolly well too big for me so I wrote to theGovernor--my father, at home you know--and he said he 'd foot the bills.So I put it in the hands of a detective agency; very thorough people,'pon my word. They tell me this German chap is at the bottom of themischief but they can't prove it. He is always behind somebody else.If Ned Monroe had not been honest and given up, McAllister would neverhave won his case in that court: Schatz owns the judge, so they tell me.Amazin' country, is n't it? And then he is far too clever to wage alosing fight: you would have won at the last, despite his efforts. Nowhe 's come with his offer of partnership. Clever idea, really. He 'lljolly well use you if he can't beat you; and no doubt he expects totrick you, Buck, in some way, perhaps lending you money--then, you outof it, he has McAllister at a disadvantage.
"My idea is this: take Schatz in as a partner and he 'll grow lesscareful. We shall be able to trip him up. Remarkable man, really. Notone of those he employs can be made to talk; they 're entirely loyal.But sooner or later he will make a mistake: rogues all do, even thecleverest of them; and if they continue to escape, it is merely becauseno one happened to be watching and catch them at it. I 'll lend you themoney, Buck--"
"But what in--what do I need money for, Whit? Ain't th' range an' th'cattle enough?"
"Of course they are. But the German wants to see some cash capital andit will do no harm to give him plenty of rope, will it now?"
"But, Whit," objected Hopalong, "if yo 're shore it's th' Dutchman, wecan drive him out of th' country so quick he 'll burn his feet. Men 'sbeen shot for less 'n he 's done."
"You can't do it, Cassidy. The agency has n't been able to get a bit ofproof. And McAllister is set against anything rash. I thought at onetime he had put on another man. There 's a chap who makes hisheadquarters at Twin River who 's busy, no end. The agency rathersuspected he was one of Schatz's men. Sharp chap, that. And he can't beworking on his own hook, can he?"
He glanced at Buck as if expecting a reply.
"That's Tex Ewalt, Whit," informed Mary. "He 's on our side."
"Ah! do you know, I thought as much. My word, I 'm thirsty; wish I hada brandy and soda here." He paused to take a drink of water, shakinghis head when Buck motioned to the whiskey. "I 'm afraid I shall neverget used to that rye of yours," he declared, mournfully.
Buck turned to Hopalong. "What do you make of it?" he asked.
"If it depended on you alone, Buck, it would be easier to answer. ButMcAllister is in th' game an' it shore ain't Frenchy: we both know whathe 'd 'a' done. What does McAllister think o' this partnership deal?" heasked Whitby.
"He has n't heard of it, but I 'm sure he would agree with me."
"All right!" exclaimed Buck. "We'll let Mac make th' runnin'. If itlooks like he 's goin' to lose th' race it will be all th' easier todrop th' winner if we got him in gun range. But I shore hates to paybig interest, like I must, a-puttin' up money that way."
"Let me lend it you, Buck," advised Whitby. "The Governor will cable itfast enough when I ask for it. You won't have to pay me a pennyinterest. And when things settle down a bit you can turn it over toMcAllister. I shall stop in this country. I like it, by Jove! And I'm jolly well sure McAllister will sell out to me, particularly if--Isay, Buck, have I made good out here in the West?"
Buck laughed as he grasped Whitby's hand. "Made good!" he repeated."Yo 're th' best Britisher I ever knew an' I 've met some good ones inmy time." With Hopalong's slap on his shoulder and Mary smiling at himfrom her chair by the window, Whitby felt that it was likely to prove avery pleasant country "when things settled down a bit."
"Let's get at that letter to Mac," suggested Buck. "Th' sooner I hearfrom him th' easier I 'll be in mind."
"I 've written it," answered Whitby. "If you like I 'll get it toWayback to-night and stop over until morning."
"Go ahead," agreed Buck.
When he had left, Hopalong turned to his wife with the query: "How didhe find out yo 're a clever woman, Mary?"
"Because he 's a clever man, only he hides it," replied Mary. "He wasa-gassin' 'bout you an' Buck an' I naturally found out a thing or twomyself. That's how he came to tell you. He regular confided in me an' Iadvised him to tell you-all."
"It was a safe bet you 'd find out more 'n you 'd let go," complimentedHopalong.
"Oh, you Billy-Red!"
* * * * *
When Pickles, mounted on the Goat, had left the ranch by a roundaboutway he headed for the bottom of one of the range's many depressions andfollowed it until close to the Jill, where he turned south and beganedging nearer and nearer to the place he had seen Dave. Pickles hadlistened to many tales of hunting and as his associates had been grownmen, experienced in stalking, the boy had absorbed a great deal ofhealthy knowledge which he made use of in his playing, in the greatoutdoors. With a grave thoughtfulness beyond his years he now proceededto put his knowledge to a sterner use and worked cautiously toward hisobjective without loss of time. When he rode up the bank of a draw,alert and wary, and saw the solitary horseman still keeping his patientvigil, he swiftly dismounted, picketed the Goat and, taking the heavyrifle, crept forward, crouching as he went.
He had come to the edge of the cover and saw Dave still very far away;and after vainly trying to find some way to get closer to the man he wasafter, he carefully opened the breech of the heavy Sharps to be againassured it was loaded. A bigger cartridge than he had ever usedconfronted him: four inches of brass and lead, throwing a 600-grainbullet by the terrific force of one hundred and twenty grains of powder.The forty-five Sharps Special raised Hopalong another notch in Pickles'estimation--truly it was a man's weapon.
"Gosh!" he gloated, and then glanced thoughtfully across the open plaintowards the horseman. "Twelve hundred, all right," he muttered,regretfully, for one hundred would have suited him better. But a swiftsmile chased away the scowl. The rifle belonging to Hopalong nevermissed--he had Buck's word for that--and besides, he had made his wish.One last look around for a cover nearer to Dave, and the big sight wasraised and set. The gun went to his shoulder and the heavy reportcrashed out of a huge cloud of gray smoke as the Sharps spoke.
The rifle belonging to Hopalong never missed--andbesides, he had made his wish.]
Dave's sullen temper was rudely jogged into fierce and righteous anger.Something hit his face. Something else screamed past him, struck a rockand whirred into the sky with a sharp, venomous burr. The pony,resenting Dave's painful appropriation of part of his ear, went up intothe air and came down on stiff legs, its back arching once as it landed.The instant the hoofs were firmly on the ground it stretched out and ranas it never had before, Dave helpless to check it. The heavy, sharpreport of the huge rifle in Pickles' hand had no sooner reached him thanhe had all he could do to hold his seat. But the sound of that bulletpassing him, lingered in his mind long after he had regained control ofhis terrified mount.
Pickles, swallowing hard and holding one shoulder with a timidlyinvestigating hand, blinked his dazed eyes as he looked about,inquiringly. He remembered pulling the trigger--and then the Goat hadreached out thirty feet and kicked him in the neck--and if it wasn't theGoat, who threw the rock? Dave! He sat up and then struggled to hisfeet, looking eagerly out to see the remains of Dave scatteredcarelessly over the landscape. Dave was fast getting smaller, a cloudof dust drifting to the south along his trail.
"D--n it!" cried the boy, tears of vexation in his eyes. "He got away!I missed! I missed!" he shouted. "Buck lied to me! Th' old gun ain'tno good!" and in the ecstasy of his rage he danced up and down on thediscredited weapon
. "Whitby's witches ain't no good! Nothin's no good;an' I missed him!"
Meanwhile his injuries were not becoming easier: his head displayed alarge, angry lump, and ached fit to burst; his shoulder was n't broken,he decided, as he exercised it tentatively, but not far from it; and apiece of skin was missing from his bleeding cheek.
"I ought to 'a' got him," he muttered sullenly, picking up the rifle andmoving slowly back to where his horse was picketed. "Well, anyhow, hewas awful scared--I _knowed_ he was a coward! I knowed it! If this oldgun was as good as its kick I _would_ 'a' got him, too." Pickles hadgauged the distance perfectly and his hand had not even quivered when hepulled the trigger--but he had yet to learn of windage and how to figureit. Dave owed his life to the wind that swept the dust of his pony'sfeet southward.
When Pickles had turned the horse into the pasture he reloaded the riflebefore slipping it back into its long leather scabbard. It must befound as he had found it and, besides, he was plainsman enough torealize how serious it might be for Hopalong if he believed the weaponwas loaded and found it empty in a crisis.
"Never missed, hey?" he growled savagely as he moved away. "Huh!_Next_ time, I 'll use _Buck's_ gun!"