CHAPTER 19
That ride to the southern mountains seemed to Bull Hunter to mark agreat point of departure between his old life and a new life.
He had not heard Riley, fox-faced and wicked of eye, say to hismaster, "What this big fool needs is a little kidding. Make him thinkthat we figure him to be a big gun." He had not seen Hal Dunbar make awry face before he nodded.
All that Bull Hunter could know was that the three men--Riley, Dunbar,and Joe Castor--were all exceedingly pleasant to him on the way. Ofall the men in the world, only Pete Reeve had treated him as these menwere now doing, and it was sweet beyond measure to Bull Hunter to betreated with considerate respect, to have his opinion asked, to bedeferred to and flattered. As for the thousand little asides withwhich they made a mock of him, they were far above his head. It seemedonly patent to Bull Hunter that he had been accepted freely into theequal society of men.
He drew a vague comparison between that success and his mastery ofDiablo. The big stallion was like a kitten under his hand. It requiredmuch coaxing during the first half-day of riding to bring Diablowithin speaking distance of the other men, but gradually he discoveredthat they could do him no harm so long as the gentle voice of Hunterwas near him; thereafter he was entirely amenable to reason. One couldsee that the stallion was learning difficult lessons, but he waslearning them fast. Eye and ear and scent told him that thesecreatures were dangerous. Old experience told him that they weredangerous, and only a blind trust in Bull Hunter enabled him toconquer the panic which surged up in his brain time and again. But hekept on trying, and the constant struggle against men which hadfeatured his life made him astonishingly quick to pick up new facts.The first step had been the hard one, and it seemed to Bull Hunterthat the close-knit, smooth-flowing muscles beneath him were carryinghim onward into the esteem of all men. To Diablo he gave the praise,and after Diablo to little freckled Tod, and to Pete Reeve, thefighter. As for taking any credit for himself, that idea never came tohim for a moment.
The long trip took two days. They crossed the green, rolling hills;they passed the foothills, and climbing steadily they came onto abroad, high plateau--it was a natural kingdom, this ranch of theDunbars. The fence around it was the continuous range of mountainsskirting the plateau on all sides, and in every direction up to thoseblue summits as far as the eye carried, stretched the land which ownedHal Dunbar as master. To Bull Hunter, when they reached the crest,and the broad domain was pointed out to him, this seemed a princelystretch indeed, and Hal Dunbar was more like a king than ever. It waseasy to forgive pride in such a man and a certain asperity of temper.How could so rich and powerful a man be like others?
The ranch house was worthy of such a holding. A heavy growth ofbeautiful silver spruce swept up the slope of some hills, and ridingthrough the forest, one caught the first glimpse of the building. Itwas spread out carelessly, the foundations laid deep to cover theirregularities of the ground. It was a heterogeneous mass, obviouslynot the work of any one builder. Here a one-story wing rambled far tothe side, built heavily, of logs rudely squared, and there was athree-story frame section of the house; and still again there was atall tower effect of rough stone. As for the barns and sheds whichswept away down the farther and lower slopes, the meanest of themlooked to Bull as though it might have made a home of more thanaverage comfort.
The three other riders noted the gaping astonishment of Bull andpassed the wink quietly around. To Hal Dunbar it was growing more andmore annoying that he had to trouble himself with such a clod of a manand use diplomacy where contemptuous force would have been so muchmore after his heart. But he continued to follow the scheme first laiddown for his pursuit by clever Riley, and when they came to thewide-ranging stable he assigned the black stallion to a roomy boxstall. Bull Hunter thanked him for the courtesy as though it had beena direct personal favor; as a matter of fact, Hal felt that he wasmerely taking care of a horse which was already as good as his.
Coming back toward the house Bull walked slowly in the rear of thelittle party. He wanted to take plenty of time and drink in theastonishing details of what to him was a palace. And about theweather-beaten old house he felt that there was a touch of mystery ofa more or less feudal romance. Climbing the steps to the porch heturned; a broad sweep of hills opened above the tops of the spruces,and the blue mountains were piled beyond.
While he stood, a door slammed, and he heard a girl's mellow voicecalling, "Hello, Hal, what luck?"
"What luck? No luck!" grumbled young Dunbar. "All the luck has gonethe way of my ... friend ... here." He brought out the last wordsjokingly. "This is Charlie Hunter, commonly called Bull for reasonsyou may guess. Bull, this is Mary Hood."
Bull had turned lumberingly, and he found himself staring at a girl ina more formal riding outfit than he had ever seen before, with tallboots of soft red leather, and a little round black hat set on herhair, and a coat fitted somewhat closely. The rather masculine outfitonly served to make her freer, more independent, more delightfullyherself, Bull Hunter thought. She looked him up and down and reservedjudgment, it seemed.
"He rode Diablo," Dunbar was explaining.
"And that's why you brought him?" she asked, flashing a queer glanceat Hal.
Then she came a pace down the steps and shook hands with Bull. He tookthe small hand carefully, with a fear that the bones would breakunless he were excessively gentle. At last she laughed so frankly thata tingle went through his big body, and he peered closely at her. As arule the laughter of others made him hot with shame, but this laughterwas different; it seemed to invite him into a pleasant secret.
"I'm glad to meet the man who conquered Diablo," she was saying.
"I didn't beat Diablo," he hastened to explain. "We just sort ofreached an understanding. He saw that I didn't mean him any harm--sohe let me ride him. That's all there was to it!"
He saw her eyes narrow a trifle as she looked down at him, for she haddrawn back to the level of the porch. Was she despising him andcondemning him merely because he had told her the truth? He flushed atthe thought, and then he was called into the house by Dunbar andbrought to a room. The size of it inspired him with a profound awe,and he was still gaping when Dunbar left him.
In the hall the master of the house met Riley, and the fox-facedlieutenant drew him aside.
"I've got a plan," he said.
"You're full of plans," muttered Dunbar evilly.
All the way home he had been striving to find some way of explaininghis lack of success with the stallion to Mary Hood. She had grown upon the ranch with him, for her father had been the manager of theranch for twenty years; and she had grown up with the feeling that HalDunbar was infallible and invincible.
"Did you see the big hulk look at Mary Hood?" Riley asked.
The name came pat with the unpleasant part of Hal's brooding, and hisscowl grew blacker. "What about it?"
"Looked at her as though she was an angel--touched her hand as thoughit was fire. I tell you, Hal, she knocked Hunter clean offhis balance."
"Not the first she's done that to," said Hal with meaning.
"Maybe not. Maybe not," said Riley rather hastily. "But I beenthinking. Suppose you go to Mary and tell her that you're dead set onkeeping this Hunter with you. Tell her that he's a hard fellow tohandle, that he likes her, and that the best way to make sure of himis for her to be nice to him. She can do that easy. She takes nacheralto flirting."
"Flirt with that thick-head? She'd laugh in my face."
"She'd do more than that for you, Hal."
"H'm," grunted Dunbar, greatly mollified. "I ask her to make Hunterhappy. What comes of it? If her father sees Hunter make eyes at herhe'll blow the head off the clodhopper."
"I know." Riley nodded. "He's always afraid she'll take a fancy to oneof the hands and run off with him, or something like that. He's deadset agin' her saying two words to anybody like me, say!"
He gritted his teeth and flushed at the thought. Then he continued."But that's just what you want. You
want to get Hunter's head blownoff, don't you?"
Dunbar caught the shoulder of Riley and whirled him around.
"Are you talking murder to me, Riley?"
"I'm talking sense," said Riley.
"By the Lord," growled Dunbar, "you're a plain bad one, Riley. Youlike deviltry for the sake of the deviltry itself. You want meto get--"
"How much do you want the black hoss, chief?" Dunbar sighed.
"You can't touch him, after him saving your life, and I can't touchhim, because everybody knows that I'm your man. But suppose you getthe girl and Hunter planted? Then when Jack Hood rides in thisafternoon, I'll take him where he can see 'em together. Leave the restto me. Will you? I'll have Jack Hood scared she's going to elopebefore morning, and Jack will do the rest. You know his way."
"Suppose Hood gets killed?"
"Killed--by that? Jack Hood? Why, you know he's near as good as youwith his gat!"
Dunbar nodded slowly. After all, the scheme was a simple one.
"Well?" whispered Riley.
"You and the devil win," said Hal. "After all, what's this Hunteramount to? Nothing. And I need the horse!"
He executed the first step of the scheme instantly. He went downstairsand found the girl still on the veranda. She began to mock himat once.
"You'll go to heaven, Hal, giving a home to the man who beats you."
He managed to smile, although the words were poison to him. He hadloved her as long as he could remember, and sooner or later she wouldbe his wife, but the period remained indefinitely in the future as thewhims of the girl changed. It was for that reason, as Hal very wellknew, that her father became furious when she smiled at another man.The rich marriage was his goal; and when a second man stepped onto thestage, old Jack Hood was ready to fight. Hal saw a way of stopping hergibes and proving his good intentions toward Hunter all in a breath.
"He saved my life, Mary. I lost a stirrup, and the devil of a horsethrew me."
Briefly he sketched in the story of the rescue, and how Bull Hunterafterward had ridden the horse without spurs, without a bridle. Beforehe ended her eyes were shining.
"That's what he meant when he said he hadn't beaten Diablo. Iunderstand now. At the time I thought he was a little simple, Hal."
"He's not exceptionally clever, Mary," said Hal, "and that's where thepoint comes in of what I want you to do. Hunter is apt to take a fancythat he isn't wanted here--that he's being kept out of charity becausehe saved my life. Nothing I can say will convince him. I want you togive him a better reason for staying around. Will you do it--as agreat favor?"
She dropped her chin into her hand and studied him.
"Just what are you driving at, Hal?"
"You know what I mean well enough. I want you to waste a smile or twoon him, Mary. Will you do that? Make him think you like him a gooddeal, that you're glad to have him around. Will you? Take him out fora walk this afternoon and get him to tell you the story of his life.You can always make a man talk and generally you turn them into fools.You've done it with me, often enough," he added gloomily.
"Flirt with that big, quiet fellow?" she said gravely. "Hal, you'recriminal. Besides, you know that I don't flirt. It's just theopposite. When I like a man I'm simply frank about it."
"But you have a way of being frank so that a poor devil usually thinksyou want to marry him, and then there's the devil to pay. You know itperfectly well."
"That's not true, Hal!"
"I won't argue. But will you do it?"
"Absolutely not!"
"It might be quite a game. He may not be altogether a fool. Andsuppose he were to wake up? Suppose he's simply half-asleep?"
He saw a gleam of excitement come in her eyes and wisely left herwithout another word. After things had reached a certain point Marycould be generally trusted to carry the action on.
CHAPTER 20
Jack Hood had ridden out on his rounds with a new horse that morning,and the new horse developed the gait of a plow horse. The result wasthat grim old Jack reached the house that night with a body racked bythe labor of the day and a disposition poisoned for the entireevening. He was met at the stable by Riley, and the sight of himbrought a spark for the moment into the eye of the foreman.
"You're back, then, and you got Diablo?"
"Look yonder."
Jack Hood went to the box stall and came back rubbing his hands, buthis exultation was cut short by Riley's remark. "He doesn't belong toHal. Hal was thrown and another gent rode him."
The amazement of Jack Hood took the shape of a wild torrent ofprofanity. He was proud of the ranch which he had controlled for solong, and still prouder of his young master. His creed included twomain points--the essential beauty of his daughter and theinfallibility of young Hal Dunbar; consequently his great ambition wasto unite the two.
"Mary took to Hunter pretty kindly," concluded Riley, as they walkedback toward the house at the conclusion of the story.
The foreman took off his hat and shook back his long, iron-gray hair.
"Trust her for that. Something new is always what she wants."
"They've got the new well pretty near sunk," said Riley. "Take a lookat it?"
"All right."
But before they had gone halfway down the path onto which Riley hadcunningly diverted the older man, he caught Hood's arm and stopped himwith a whisper.
"Look at that. _Already!_ This Hunter ain't such a slow worker, eh,Jack?"
They had come in view of the little terraced garden which was Mary'sparticular property; it was screened from the house by a rank or twoof the spruce, and on a rustic bench, seated with their backs to thewitnesses, were Mary and Bull Hunter. The girl was rapt in attention,and her eyes never left the face of Hunter. As for Bull, he wastalking steadily, and it seemed to Jack Hood that as the big strangertalked he leaned closer and closer to the girl. The hint which Rileyhad already dropped was enough to inflame the imagination of thesuspicious foreman; what he now saw was totally conclusive, hethought. Now, under his very eyes, he saw the big man stretch out hishand, and he saw the hand of Mary dropped into it.
It was more than Riley had dared to hope for. He caught Jack Hood bythe shoulders, and whirled him around, and half dragged him back tothe house.
"Not in front of your daughter, Jack," he pleaded. "I don't blame youfor being mad when a skunk like that starts flirting with a girl thefirst day he's seen her. But if you got anything to say to him, waittill Mary is out of the way. There goes the supper bell. Hurry on in.Keep hold on yourself."
"Do I have to sit through supper and look at that hound?"
"Not at all," suggested the cunning Riley. "Have a bite in the kitchenand go up to your room. I'll say that you got some figures to runover. Afterward, you can come down and jump him!"
He watched Jack Hood disappear, grinning faintly, and then hunted forHal Dunbar.
"It's started," he said. "I dropped a word in Jack's ear and thenshowed him the two of 'em sitting together. It was like a spark in thepowder. The old boy exploded."
"How close were they sitting?" asked Hal suspiciously.
"Close enough." Riley grinned, for he was not averse to making evenDunbar himself writhe.
The result was that Hal maneuvered to draw Mary Hood aside when shecame in with big Hunter for supper. Something in Bull Hunter's facedisturbed the owner of the ranch, for the eyes of Bull were alight,and he was smiling for no apparent reason.
"How did things go?" he asked carelessly.
"You were all wrong about him," said the girl earnestly. "He's not ahalf-wit by any means, Hal. I had a hard time of it at first, but thenI got him talking about Diablo and the trouble ended. Not a bit ofsentiment in him; but just like a great big, simple, honest boy, witha man's strength. It would have done you good to hear him!"
"And he'll stay with us?" asked Hal dryly, for he was far fromenthusiastic.
"Of course he'll stay. Do you know what he did? He promised to try toteach me to ride Diablo, and he even shook hands on i
t! Hal, I likehim immensely!"
All during the meal the glances of Hal Dunbar alternated between thegirl and the giant. He was more disturbed than he dared to confesseven to himself. It was not so much that Bull Hunter sat with afaintly dreamy smile, staring into the future and forgetting his food,but it was the fact that Mary Hood was continually smiling across thetable into that big, calm face. Dunbar began to feel that the devilwas indeed behind the wit of Riley.
He began to wait nervously for the coming of the girl's father and theexplosion. As soon as supper was over, following the time-honoredcustom which the first Dunbar established on the ranch, Mary left theroom, and the men gathered in groups for cards or dice or talk, forthey were not ordinary hired hands, but picked men. Many of them hadgrown gray in the Dunbar service. Now was the time for the coming ofJack Hood, and Hal had not long to wait.
The door at the far side of the big room was thrown open not fiveminutes after the disappearance of Mary Hood, and her father entered.He came with a brow as black as night, tossed a sharp word here andthere in reply to the greetings, and going to the fireplace leanedagainst the mantel and rolled a cigarette. While he smoked, from underhis shaggy brows he looked over the company.
Hal Dunbar waited, holding his breath. One brilliant picture wasdawning on his mind--himself mounted on great black Diablo andswinging over the hills at a matchless gallop.
The picture vanished. Jack Hood had left the fireplace and wascrossing the room with his alert, quick step. His nerves showed inthat step; and it was nerve power that made him a dreaded gunfighter.His gloom seemed to have vanished now. He smiled here; he paused therefor a cheery word; and so he came to where Bull Hunter sat with hislong legs stretched before him and the unchanging, dreamy smile onhis face.
Over those long legs Jack Hood stumbled. When he whirled on the seatedman his cheer was gone and a devil was in his face.
"You damned lummox," he said, "what d'ye mean by tripping me?"
"Me?" gasped Bull, the smile gradually fading and blank amazementtaking its place.
It was at this moment that a man stepped out of the shadow of thekitchen doorway, a very small withered man. No doubt he was some latearrival asking hospitality for the night; and having come after supperwas over, he had been fed in the kitchen and then sent in among theother men; for no one was turned away hungry from the Dunbar house. Hewas so small, so light-footed, that he would hardly have been noticedat any time, and now that the roar from Jack Hood had focused all eyeson Bull Hunter, the newcomer was entirely overlooked. He seemed tomake it a point to withdraw himself farther, for now he stepped into adense shadow near the wall where he could see and remain unseen.
Jack Hood had shaken his fist under the nose of the seated giant.
"I meant it," he cried. "You tripped me, you skunk, and Jack Hoodain't old enough to take that from no man!"
Bull Hunter cast out deprecatory hands. The words of this fire-eyedfellow were bad enough, but the tigerish tenseness of his muscles wasstill worse. It meant battle, and the long, black, leather holster atthe thigh of Hood meant battle of only one kind. It had come sosuddenly on him that Bull Hunter was dazed.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I sure didn't mean to trip you--but maybe myfoot might of slipped out a little and--"
"Slipped out!" sneered Hood. He stopped, panting with fury. That acomparative stranger should have dared to speak familiarly with hisdaughter was bad enough; that a blank-faced coward should have daredflirt with her, dared take her hand, was maddening.
"You infernal sneak!" he growled. "Are you going to try to get out ofit, now that you've seen you can't bluff me down--that I won't standfor your tricks?"
Bull Hunter rose, slowly, unfolding his great bulk until he toweredabove the other; and yet the condensed activity of Hood was fully asformidable. There were pantherlike suggestions of speed about the armthat dangled beside his holster.
The withered little man in the shadow by the kitchen door took onenoiseless step into the light--and then shrank back as though he hadchanged his mind.
"It looks to me," said Bull Hunter mildly, "that you're trying toforce a fight on me. Stranger, I can't fight a man as old as you are."
Perhaps it was a tactless speech, but Bull was too dazed to think ofgrace in words. It brought a murderous snarl from the other.
"I'm old enough to be Jack Hood--maybe you've heard of me? And I'myoung enough to polish off every unlicked cub in these parts. Now,curse you, what d'ye say to that?"
"I can only say," said Bull miserably, feeling his way, "that I don'twant to fight."
With an oath Hood exclaimed, "A coward! They're all like that--everyone of the big fellers. A yaller-hearted sneak!"
"Easy, Jack!" broke in one of the men.
"Let Jack alone," called the commanding voice of Hal Dunbar. "I sawHunter trip him!"
"But," pleaded Bull Hunter, "I give you my word--"
"Shut up! I've heard enough of your talk."
Bull Hunter obediently stopped his talk.
A sickening quiet drew through the room. Men bowed their heads orturned them away, for such cowardice was not pleasant to see. Thelittle man in the shadow raised one hand and brushed it acrosshis face.
"I'll let you off one way," said Jack Hood. "Stand up here, and facethe crowd and tell 'em you're a liar, that you're sorry for whatyou done!"
Bull faced the crowd. A shudder of expectancy went through them, andthen they saw that his face was working, not with shame or fear butwith a mental struggle, and then he spoke.
"Gents, it seems like I may be wrong. I may have tripped him which Ididn't mean to. But not knowing that I tripped him, I got to say thatI can't call myself a liar. I can't apologize."
They were shocked into a new attention; they saw him turn and face thefrown of Jack Hood.
"You're forcing this fight, stranger. And, if you keep on, you'lldrop, sir. I promise you that!"
The sudden change in affairs had astonished Jack Hood; now hisastonishment gave way to a sort of hungry joy.
"I never was strong on words. I got two ways of talking and here's theone I like best!" As he uttered the last word he reached for his gun.
The little man glided out of the shadow, crouched, intense. It seemedto him that the hand of Bull Hunter hung motionless at his side whilethe gun flashed out from Hood's holster. He groaned at the thought,but in the last second, there was a move of Hunter's hand that no eyecould follow, that singular convulsive twitch which Pete Reeve hadtaught him so long before. Only one gun spoke. Jack Hood spun sidewiseand crashed to the floor, and his gun rattled far away.
By the time the first man had rushed to the fallen figure, the gun wasback in Bull's holster.
The little man in the shadow heard him saying, "Pardners, he's notdead. He's shot through the right shoulder, low, beneath the joint.That bullet won't kill him, but get him bandaged quick!"
A calm, clear voice, it rang through the room. The little man slippedback into his shadow, and straightened against the wall.
"He's right," said Hal Dunbar, stepping back from the cluster. "Rileyand Jerry, get him up to his room and bandage him, quick! The rest ofyou stay here. We got a job. Hood's gun hung in the holster, and thisfellow shot him down. A murdering, cowardly thing to do. You hear? Amurdering, cowardly thing to do!"
Obviously he was wrong, and obviously not one of his henchmen wouldtell him so. For some reason the boss intended to take up the lostbattle of Jack Hood. Why, was not theirs to reason, though plainly thefight had been fair, and Hood had been in the wrong from the first.They shifted swiftly, a man to each door, the others along the wallwith their hands on their weapons. There was a change in Bull Hunter.One long leap backward carried him into a corner of the room. He stooderect, and they could see his eyes gleaming in the shadow.
"I think you got me here to trap me, Dunbar," he called in such avoice that the little man in the shadow thrilled at the sound of it,"but you'll find that you're trapped first, my friend. Touch that gunof yours, and you'r
e a dead man, Dunbar. Curse you, I dare you togo for it!"
Could this be Bull Hunter speaking? The little man in the shadowthrilled with joyous amazement.
Hal Dunbar evidently was going to fight the thing through. He stoodswaying a little from side to side. "No guns out, boys, as yet. Waittill I take my crack at him, and then--"
The little man in the shadow stepped out into the light and walkedcalmly toward the center of the room.
"Just a little wee minute, Dunbar," he was saying. "Just a little weeminute, Mr. Man-trapper Dunbar! I got a word to say."
"Who the devil are you?" cried Hal Dunbar, turning on this punystranger.
A joyous shout from Bull Hunter drowned the answer of the other.
"Pete! Pete Reeve!"
The little man waved his hand carelessly to the giant in the corner.
"You give me a hard trail, Bull, old boy. But you didn't think youcould slip me, did you? Not much. And here I am, pretty pronto on thedot, I figure." He took in with a glance the men along the walls. "Youknow me, boys, and I'm here to see fair play. They ain't going to befair play in this room with you boys lined up waiting to drop Bull incase he plugs Dunbar. Dunbar, I know you. And between you and me, Idon't know no good of you. You're young, but you're going to showlater on. If you want to talk business to Bull Hunter some other time,you're welcome to come finding him, and he won't be hard to find.Bull, come along with me. Just back up, if you don't mind, Bull.Because they's murder in our friend Dunbar's face. And here we are!"
Side by side they drew back to the outer door with big Hal Dunbarwatching them from under a scowl, with never a word, and so throughthe door and into the night.
Two minutes later Diablo was rocking across the hills with his mightystride, and the cow pony of Pete Reeve was pattering beside him.
As they drove through the great spruces the moon rose. Bull Huntergreeted it with a thundering song and threw up his hands to it.
Pete Reeve swore softly in amazement and drew his horse to a walk.
"By the Lord," cried Bull, "and I haven't thanked you yet for pullingme out of that mess. I'd be crow's food by this time if it hadn't beenfor you, Pete!"
"That only wipes out one score. Let's talk about you, Bull. Since Ilast seen you, you've got to be a man. Was it dropping Hood that madeyou buck up like this?"
"That old man?"
"That old man," snorted Pete, "is Jack Hood, one of the best of 'emwith a gun. But if it wasn't the fight that made you feel your oats,was it breaking Diablo?"
"No breaking to it. We just got acquainted."
"But what's happened? What's wakened you, Bull?"
"I dunno," said Bull and became thoughtful.
"Pete," he said, after a long time, "have you ever noticed a sort ofchill that gets inside you when the right sort of a girl smiles and--"
"The devil," murmured Pete Reeve, "it's the girl that's happened toyou, eh? You forget her, Bull. I'm going to take you on the trail withme and keep you from thinking. It's a new trail for me, Bull. It's atrail where I'm going straight, I can't take you with me while I'mplaying against the law. So I'm going to stay inside thelaw--with you."
"Maybe," and Bull Hunter sighed. "But no matter how far the trailleads, I'm thinking that some day I'll ride in a circle and come backto this place where we started out together."
He turned in the saddle.
The outline of the Dunbar house was fading into the night.
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