CHAPTER 10
When old Farmer Morton and his son came in their buckboard through themarshes, they heard the screaming of Pete Reeve for help. Leavingtheir team, they bolted across country to the open glade. There theyfound Pete still shouting for help, kneeling above the body of a man,and working desperately to arrange an effectual tourniquet. They ranclose and discovered the two men.
Old Morton knew enough rude surgery to stop the bleeding. It was hewho counted the pulse and listened to the heart. "Low," he said, "verylow--life is just flickerin', stranger."
"If they's as much light of life in him," said Pete Reeve, "as theflicker of a candle, I'll fan it up till it's as big as a forest fire.Man, he's got to live."
"H'm!" said Morton. "And how come the shooting?"
"Stop your fool questions," said Reeve. "Help me get him to town andto a bed."
It was useless to attempt to carry that great, loose-limbed body. Theybrought the buckboard perilously through the shrubbery and thenmanaged, with infinite labor, to lift Bull Hunter into it. With PeteReeve supporting the head of the wounded man and cautioning them todrive gently, they managed the journey to the town as softly aspossible. At the hotel a strong-armed cortege bore Bull to a bed, andthey carried him reverently. Had his senses been with him he wouldhave wondered greatly; and had his uncle, or his uncle's sons, beenthere, they would surely have laughed uproariously.
In the hotel room Pete Reeve took command at once. "He's too big todie," he told the dubious doctor. "He's got to live. And the minuteyou say he can't, out you go and another doc comes in. Now doyour work."
The doctor, haunted by the deep, fiery eyes of the gunfighter, steppedinto the room to minister to his patient. He had a vague feeling that,if Bull Hunter died, Pete Reeve would blame him for lack of care. Intruth, Pete seemed ready to blame everyone. He threatened to destroythe whole village if a dog was allowed to howl in the night, or if thebaby next door were permitted to cry in the day.
Silence settled over the little town--silence and the fear of PeteReeve. Pete himself never left the sickroom. Wide-eyed, silent-footed,he was ever about. He seemed never to sleep, and the doctor swore thatthe only reason Bull Hunter did not die was because death feared toenter the room while the awful Reeve was there.
But the long hours of unconsciousness and delirium wore away. Thencame the critical period when a relapse was feared. Finally the timecame when it could be confidently stated that Bull was recovering hishealth and his strength.
All this filled a matter of weeks. Bull was still unable to leave hisbed. He was dull and listless, bony of hand, and liable to sleep manyhours through the very heart of the day. At this point of his recoverythe door opened one day, and, in the warmth of the afternoon, a bigman came into the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
Bull turned his head slowly and then blinked, for it was the unshavenface of his cousin, Harry Campbell, that he saw. With his eyes closed,Bull wondered why that face was so distinctly unpleasant. When heopened them again, Harry had drawn closer, his hat pushed on the backof his head after the manner of a baffled man, and a faint smileworking at the corners of his lips. He took the limp hand of Bull inhis and squeezed it cautiously. Then he laid the hand back on thesheet and grinned more confidently at Bull.
"Well, I'll be hanged, Bull, here you are as big as life, pretty near,and you don't act like you knew me!"
"Sure I do. Sit down, Harry. What brung you all this ways?"
"Why, anxious to see how you was doing."
Again Bull blinked. Such anxiety from Harry was a mystery.
"They ain't talking about much else up our way," said Harry, "but howyou come across the mountains in the storm, and how big you are, andhow you got the sheriff, and how you rushed Pete Reeve bare-handed.Sure is some story! All the way down I just had to say that I was BullHunter's cousin to get free meals!" He licked his lips and grinnedagain. "So I come down to see how you was."
"I'm doing tolerable fair," said Bull slowly, "and it was good of youto come this long ways to ask that question. How's things to home?"
"Dad's bunged up for life; can't do nothing but cuss, but at that helays over anything you ever hear." Harry's eyes flicked nervouslyabout the room. "It was him that sent me down! Where's Reeve?"
This was in a whisper. Bull gestured toward the next room.
"Asleep? Can he hear if I talk?"
"Asleep," said Bull. "Been up with me two days. I took a bad turn awhile back. Pete's helping himself to a nap, and he needs one!"
"Now, listen!" said Harry. "Dad figured this out, and Dad's mostlynever wrong. He says, 'Reeve shot up Bull. Now he's hanging aroundtrying to make up by nursing Bull, according to reports, because he'safraid of what Bull'll do when he gets back on his feet. But Bullhas got to know that, even when he's back on his feet, he can't beatReeve--not while Reeve can pull a gun. Nobody can beat that devil.If he wants to beat Reeve, just take advantage of him while Reeveain't expecting anything--which means while Bull is sick.' Do youget what Dad means?"
"Sort of," said Bull faintly. He shut out the eager, dirty, unshavenface. "I'll just close my eyes against the light. I can hear youpretty well. Go on."
"Here's the idea. Everybody knows you hate Reeve, and Reeve fears you.Otherwise would he act like this, aside from being afraid of alynching, in case you should die? No, he wouldn't. Well, one of thesedays you take this gun"--here Harry shoved one under the pillow ofBull--"and call Pete Reeve over to you, and when he leans over yourbed, blow his brains out! That's easy, and it'll do what you'll wantto do someday. You hear? Then you can say that Reeve startedsomething--that you shot in self-defense. Everybody'll believe you,and you'll get one big name for killing Reeve! You foller me?"
Bull opened his eyes, but they were squinting as though he was in theseverest pain. "Listen, Harry," he said at last. "I been thinkingthings out. I owe a lot to your dad for taking me in and keeping me.But all I owe him I can pay back in cash--someday. I don't owe himno love. Not you, neither."
Harry had risen to his feet with a snarl.
"Sit down," said Bull, letting his great voice swell ever so little."I'm pretty near dead, but I'm still man enough to wring the neck ofa skunk! Sit down!"
Harry obeyed limply, and his giant cousin went on, his voice softeningagain. "When you come in I closed my eyes," said Bull, "because itseemed to me like you was a dream. I'd been awake. I'd been livingamong men that sort of liked me and respected me and didn't laugh atme. And then you come, and I saw your dirty face, and it made me thinkof a bad nightmare I'd had when you and your brother and your dadtreated me worse'n a dog. Well, Harry, I'm through with that dream.I'll never go back to it. I'm going to stay awake the rest of my life.It was your dad that put the wish to kill Reeve into my head with histalk. I met Reeve, and Reeve pumped some bullets with sense into me.He let out some of my life, but he let in a lot of knowledge. Amongother things he showed me what a friend might be. He's stayed here andnursed me and talked to me--like I was his equal, almost, instead ofbeing sort of simple, like I really am. And I've made up my mind thatI'm going to cut loose from remembering you folks in the mountains.I ain't your kind. I don't want to be your kind. I want to fight,like Pete Reeve. I don't want to murder like a Campbell! All the waythrough, I want to be like Pete Reeve. He don't know it. Maybe whenI'm well he'll go off by himself. But whether he's near or far, I'veadopted him. I'm going to pattern after him, and the happiest day ofmy life will be when I earn the right to have this man, that I triedto kill, come and take my hand and call me 'friend'! I guess thatanswers you, Harry. Now get out and take my talk back to your dad,and don't trouble me no more--you spoil my sleep!"
As he spoke the door of the next room opened softly. Peter Reeve stoodat the entrance. Harry, shaking with fear, backed toward the otherdoor, then leaped far out, and whirled out of sight with a slam andclatter of feet on the stairs. Pete Reeve came slowly to the bedside.
"I was awake, son," he said, "and I couldn't help hearing."
Bull flushed heavily.
"It's the best thing I ever heard," said Pete. "The best thing that'sever come to my ears--partner!"
With that word their hands joined. In reality, far more than hedreamed, Bull had been born again.