The Coming of Cassidy—And the Others

  IV

  JIMMY VISITS SHARPSVILLE

  Bill Cassidy rode slowly into Sharpsville and dismounted in front ofCarter's Emporium, nodding carelessly to the loungers hugging the shadeof the store. "Howd'y," he said. "Seen anything of Jimmy Price--a kid,but about my height, with brown hair and a devilish disposition?"

  Carter stretched and yawned, a signal for a salvo of yawns. "Nope,thank God. You need n't describe nothin' about that Price cub to noneof us. _We_ know him. He spent three days here about a year ago, an'th' town 's been sorta restin' up ever since. You don't mean for totell us he 's comin' here again!" he exclaimed, sitting up with a jerk.

  Bill laughed at the expression. "As long as you yearn for him sopowerful hard, why I gotta tell you he 's on his way, anyhow. I had togo east for a day's ride an' he headed this way. He 's to meet me here."

  Carter turned and looked at the others blankly. Old Dad Johnsonnervously stroked his chin. "Well, then he 'll git here, all right," heprophesied pessimistically. "He usually gets where he starts for; an' I'm plumb glad I 'm goin' on to-morrow."

  "Ha, ha!" laughed George Bruce. "So 'm I goin' on, by Scott!"

  Grunts and envious looks came from the group and Carter squirmeduneasily. "That's just like you fellers, runnin' away an' leavin' me toface it. An' it was you fellers what played most of th' tricks on himlast time he was here. Huh! now I gotta pay for 'em," he growled.

  Bill glanced over the gloomy circle and laughed heartily. Two faces outof seven were bright, Dad's particularly so. "Well, he seems to bequite a favorite around here," he grinned.

  Carter snorted. "Huh! Seems to be nothin'."

  "He ain't exactly a favorite," muttered Dawson. "He 's a--a--an event;that's what he is!"

  Carter nodded. "Yep; that's what he is, 'though you just can't helplikin' th' cub, he 's that cheerful in his devilment."

  Charley Logan stretched and yawned. "Didn't hear nothin' about noInjuns, did you? A feller rid through here yesterday an' said they wasout again."

  Bill nodded. "Yes; I did. An' there 's a lot of rumors goin' around.They 've been over in th' Crazy Butte country an' I heard they raidedthrough th' Little Mountain Valley last week. Anyhow, th' Seventh is outafter 'em, in four sections."

  "Th' Seventh is _a_ regiment," asserted George Bruce. "Leastawise itwas when I was in it. It is th' best in th' Service."

  Dad snorted. "Listen to him! It was when he was in it! Lordy, Lordy,Lordy!" he chuckled.

  "There hain't no cavalry slick enough to ketch Apaches," declared Hank,dogmatically. "Troops has too many fixin's an' sech. You gotta travellight an' live without eatin' an' drinkin' to ketch them Injuns; an'then you never hardly sometimes see 'em, at that."

  "Lemme tell you, Mosshead, th' Seventh can lick all th' Injuns everspawned!" asserted Bruce with heat. "It wiped out Black Kettle's camp,in th' dead of winter, too!"

  "That was Custer as did that," snorted Carter.

  "Well, he was leadin' th' Seventh, same as he is now!"

  Charley Logan shook his head. "We are talking about ketchin' 'em, notfightin' 'em. An' no cavalry in th' hull country can ketch 'Paches in_this_ country--it's too rough. 'Paches are only scared of punchers."

  "Shore," asserted Carter. "Apaches laugh at troops, less 'n it's apitched battle, when they don't. Cavalry chases 'em so fur an' nofarther; punchers chase 'em inter h--l, out of it an' back again."

  "They shore is 'lusive," cogitated Lefty Dawson, carefully deluging afly ten feet away and shifting his cud for another shot. "An' I, forone, admits I ain't hankerin' for to chase 'em close."

  "Wish we could get that cub Jimmy to chase some," exclaimed Carter."Afore he gits here," he explained, thoughtfully.

  "Oh, he 's all right, Carter," spoke up Lefty. "We was all of us youngand playful onct."

  "But we all war n't he-devils workin' day an' night tryin' to make ourbetters miserable!"

  "Oh, he 's a good kid," remarked Dad. "I sorta hates to miss him.Anyhow, we got th' best of him, last time."

  Bill finished rolling a cigarette, lit it and slowly addressed them."Well, all I got to say is that he suits me right plumb down to th'ground. Now, just lemme tell you somethin' about Jimmy," and he gavethem the story of Jimmy's part in the happenings on Tortilla Range, tothe great delight of his audience.

  "By Scott, it's just like him!" chuckled George Bruce.

  "That's shore Jimmy, all right," laughed Lefty.

  "What did _I_ tell you?" beamed Dad. "He 's a heller, he is. He 's allright!"

  "Then why don't you stay an' see him?" demanded Carter.

  "I gotta go on, or I would. Yessir, I would!"

  "Reckon them Injuns won't git so fur north as here," suggested Carterhopefully, and harking back to the subject which lay heaviest on hismind. "They 've only been here twict in ten years."

  "Which was twice too often," asserted Lefty.

  "Th' last time they was here," remarked Dad, reminiscently, "they didn'tstop long; though where they went to I dunno. We gave 'em more 'n theycould handle. That was th' time I just bought that new Sharps rifle,an' what I done with that gun was turrible." He paused to gather thefacts in the right order before he told the story, and when he lookedaround again he flushed and swore. The audience had silently faded awayto escape the moth-eaten story they knew by heart. The fact that Dadusually improved it and his part in it, each time he told it, did notlure them. "Cussed ingrates!" he swore, turning to Bill. "They 'replumb jealous!"

  "They act like it, anyhow," agreed Bill soberly. "I 'd like to hear it,but I 'm too thirsty. Come in an' have one with me?" The story wasindefinitely postponed.

  An accordion wheezed down the street and a mouth-organ tried desperatelyto join in from the saloon next door, but, owing to a great differencein memory, did not harmonize. A roar of laughter from Dawson's, and theloud clink of glasses told where Dad's would-have-been audience thenwas. Carter walked around his counter and seated himself in hisfavorite place against the door jamb. Bill, having eluded Dad, sat on akeg of edibles and smoked in silence and content, occasionally slappingat the flies which buzzed persistently around his head. Knocking theashes from the cigarette he leaned back lazily and looked at Carter."Wonder where he is?" he muttered.

  "Huh?" grunted the proprietor, glancing around. "Oh, you worryin' aboutthat yearlin'? Well, you needn't! Nothin' never sidetracks Jimmy."

  A fusillade of shots made Bill stand up, and Carter leaped to his feetand dashed toward the counter. But he paused and looked aroundfoolishly. "That's his yell," he explained. "Didn't I tell you? He'sarrove, same as usual."

  The drumming of hoofs came rapidly nearer and heads popped out ofwindows and doors, each head flanked by a rifle barrel. Above aswirling cloud of dust glinted a spurting Colt and thrust through thesmudge was a hand waving a strange collection of articles.

  "Hullo, Kid!" shouted Dawson. "What you got? See any Injuns?"

  "It's a G-string an' a medicine-bag, by all that's holy!" cried Dad fromthe harness shop. "Where 'd you git 'em, Jimmy?"

  Jimmy drew rein and slid to a stand, pricking his nettlesome "Calico"until it pranced to suit him. Waving the Apache breech-cloth, themedicine-bag and a stocking-shaped moccasin in one hand, he proudly heldup an old, dirty, battered Winchester repeater in the other and whoopeda war-cry.

  "Blame my hide!" shouted Dad, running out into the street. "It is aG-string! He 's gone an' got one of 'em! He 's gone an' got a 'Pache!Good boy, Kid! An' how 'd you do it?"

  Carter plodded through the dust with Bill close behind. "_Where'd_ youdo it?" demanded the proprietor eagerly. To Carter location meant morethan method. He was plainly nervous. When he reached the crowd he, inturn, examined the trophies. They were genuine, and on the G-string wasa splotch of crimson, muddy with dust.

  "What's in the war-bag, Kid?" demanded Lefty, preparing to see forhimself. Jimmy snatched it from his hands. "You never min
d what's init, Freckle-face!" he snapped. "That's my bag, _now_. Want to spoil myluck?"

  "How'd you do it?" demanded Dad breathlessly.

  "_Where_ 'd you do it?" snapped Carter. He glanced hurriedly around thehorizon and repeated the question with vehemence. "Where 'd you gethim?"

  "In th' groin, first. Then through th'--"

  "I don't mean where, I mean _where_--near here?" interrupted Carter.

  "Oh, fifteen mile east," answered Jimmy. "He was crawlin' down on abunch of cattle. He saw me just as I saw him. But he missed an' I didn't," he gloated proudly. "I met a Pawnee scout just afterward an' henear got shot before he signaled. He says hell's a-poppin'. Th''Paches are raidin' all over th' country, down--"

  "I knowed it!" shouted Carter. "Yessir, I knowed it! I felt it allalong! Where you finds one you finds a bunch!"

  "We'll give 'em blazes, like th' last time!" cried Dad, hurrying away tothe harness shop where he had left his rifle.

  "I 've been needin' some excitement for a long time," laughed Dawson."I shore hope they come."

  Carter paused long enough to retort over his shoulder: "An' I hopes youdrop dead! You never did have no sense! Not nohow!"

  Bill smiled at the sudden awakening and watched the scrambling forweapons. "Why, there 's enough men here to wipe out a tribe. I reckonwe 'll stay an' see th' fun. Anyhow, it 'll be a whole lot safer herethan fightin' by ourselves out in th' open somewhere. What you say?"

  "You could n't drag me away from this town right now with a cayuse,"Jimmy replied, gravely hanging the medicine-bag around his neck and thenstuffing the gory G-string in the folds of the slicker he carriedstrapped behind the cantle of the saddle. "We 'll see it out righthere. But I do wish that 'Pache owned a better gun than this thing.It's most fallin' apart an' ain't worth nothin'."

  Bill took it and examined the rifling and the breech-block. He laughedas he handed it back. "You oughta be glad it was n't a better gun, Kid.I don't reckon he could put two in the same place at two hundred paceswith this thing. I ain't even anxious to shoot it off on a bet."

  Jimmy gasped suddenly and grinned until the safety of his ears wasthreatened. "Would you look at Carter?" he chuckled, pointing. Billturned and saw the proprietor of Carter's Emporium carrying water intohis store, and with a speed that would lead one to infer that he wasdoing it on a wager. Emerging again he saw the punchers looking at himand, dropping the buckets, he wiped his face on his sleeve and shook hishead. "I 'm fillin' everything," he called. "I reckon we better stand'em off from my store--th' walls are thicker."

  Bill smiled at the excuse and looked down the street at the adobebuildings. "What about th' 'dobes, Carter?" he asked. The walls ofsome of them were more than two feet thick.

  Carter scowled, scratched his head and made a gesture of impatience."They ain't big enough to hold us all," he replied, with triumph. "Thishere store is th' best place. An', besides, it's all stocked with wateran' grub, an' everything."

  Jimmy nodded. "Yo 're right, Carter; it's th' best place." To Bill hesaid in an aside, "He 's plumb anxious to protect that shack, now ain'the?"

  Lefty Dawson came sauntering up. "Wonder if Carter 'll let us hold outin his store?"

  "He 'll pay you to," laughed Bill.

  "It's loop-holed. Been so since th' last raid," explained Lefty. "An'it's chock full of grub," he grinned.

  They heard Dad's voice around the corner. "Just like last time," he wassaying. "We oughta put four men in Dick's 'dobe acrost th' street.Then we'd have a strategy position. You see--oh, hullo," he said as herounded the corner ahead of George Bruce. "Who 's goin' on picketduty?" he demanded.

  Under the blazing sun a yellow dog wandered aimlessly down the desertedstreet, his main interest in life centered on his skin, which hefrequently sat down to chew. During the brief respites he lounged inthe doors of deserted buildings, frequently exploring the quietinteriors for food. Emerging from the "hotel" he looked across thestreet at the Emporium and barked tentatively at the man sitting on itsflat roof. Wriggling apologetically, he slowly gained the middle of thestreet and then sat down to investigate a sharp attack. A can sailedout of the open door and a flurry of yellow streaked around the cornerof the "hotel" and vanished.

  In the Emporium grave men played poker for nails, Bill Cassidy havingcorralled all the available cash long before this, and conversed in lowtones. The walls, reinforced breast high by boxes, barrels and bags,were divided into regular intervals by the open loopholes, each openingfurther indicated by a leaning rifle or two and generous piles ofcartridges. Two tubs and half a dozen buckets filled with water stoodin the center of the room, carefully covered over with boards andwrapping paper. Clouds of tobacco smoke lay in filmy stratums in theheated air and drifted up the resin-streaked sides of the building. Theshimmering, gray sand stretched away in a glare of sunlight and seemedto writhe under the heated air, while droning flies flitted lazilythrough the windows and held caucuses on the sugar barrel. A slight,grating sound overhead caused several of the more irritable or energeticmen to glance up lazily, grateful they were not in Hank's place. It washot enough under the roof, and they stretched ecstatically as theythought of Hank. Three days' vigil and anxiety had become trying evento the most stolid.

  John Carter fretfully damned solitaire and pushed the cards away to pickup pencil and paper and figure thoughtfully. This seemed to furnish himwith even less amusement, for he scowled and turned to watch the pokergame. "Huh," he sniffed, "playin' poker for nails! An' you don't evenown th' nails," he grinned facetiously, and glanced around to see if hispoint was taken. He suddenly stiffened when he noticed the man who saton his counter and labored patiently and zealously with a pocket knife."Hey, you!" he exclaimed excitedly, his wrath quickly aroused. "Ain'tyou never had no bringin' up? If yo 're so plumb sot on whittlin', youtackle that sugar barrel!"

  Jimmy looked the barrel over critically and then regarded the peevedproprietor, shaking his head sorrowfully. "This here is a better medjumfor the ex-position of my art," he replied gravely. "An' as for bringin'up, lemme observe to these gents here assembled that you ain't never hadno artistic trainin'. Yore skimpy soul is dwarfed an' narrowed by falseweights and dented measures. You can look a sunset in th' face an' notsee it for countin' yore profits." Carter glanced instinctively at thefigures as Jimmy continued. "An' you can't see no beauty in a daisy'sgrace--which last is from a book. I 'm here carvin' th' very image ofmy cayuse an' givin' you a work of art, free an' gratis. I 'm timid an'sensitive, I am; an' I 'll feel hurt if--"

  "Stop that noise," snorted a man in the corner, turning over to tryagain. "Sensitive an' timid? Yes; as a mule! Shut up an' lemme get alittle sleep."

  "A-men," sighed a poker-player. "An' let him sleep--he 's a cussednuisance when he 's awake."

  "Two mules," amended the dealer. "Which is worse than one," he addedthoughtfully.

  "We oughta put four men in that 'dobe--" began Dad persistently.

  "An' will you shut up about that 'dobe an' yore four men?" snappedLefty. "Can't you say nothin' less 'n it's about that mud hut?"

  Jimmy smiled maddeningly at the irritated crowd. "As I was sayin'before you all interrupted me, I 'll feel hurt--"

  "You _will_; an' quick!" snapped Carter. "You quit gougin' thatcounter!"

  Bill craned his neck to examine the carving, and forthwith held out aderisively pointing forefinger.

  "Cayuse?" he inquired sarcastically. "Looks more like th' map of th'United States, with some almost necessary parts missin'. Your geographymusta been different from mine."

  The artist smiled brightly. "Here 's a man with imagination, th'emancipator of thought. It's crude an' untrained, but it's there.Imagination is a hopeful sign, for it is only given to human bein's.From this we surmise an' must conclude that Bill is human."

  "Will somebody be liar enough to say th' same of you?" politely inquiredthe dealer.

  "Will you fools shut up?" demanded the man who would sleep.
He had beenon guard half the night.

  "But you oughta label it, Jimmy," said Bill. "You 've got Californiabulgin' too high up, an' Florida sticks out th' wrong way. Th' GreatLakes is _all_ wrong--looks like a kidney slippin' off of Canada. An'where's Texas?"

  "Huh! It 'd have to be a cow to show Texas," grinned Dad Johnson, who,it appeared, also had an imagination and wanted people to know it.

  "You cuttin' in on this teet-a-teet?" demanded Jimmy, dodging thecompliments of the sleepy individual.

  "As a map it is no good," decided Bill decisively.

  "It is no map," retorted Jimmy. "I know where California bulges an' howFlorida sticks out. What you call California is th' south end of th'cayuse, above which I 'm goin' to put th' tail--"

  "Not if I'm man enough, you ain't!" interposed Carter, with no regardfor politeness.

  "--where I 'm goin' to put th' tail," repeated Jimmy. "Florida is onefront laig raised off th' ground--"

  "Trick cayuse, by Scott!" grunted George Bruce. "No wonder it lookslike a map."

  "Th' Great Lakes is th' saddle, an' Maine is where th' manegoes--_Ouch_!"

  "Mangy pun," grinned Bill.

  "Kentucky ought to be under th' saddle," laughed Dad, smacking his lips."Pass th' bottle, John."

  "You take too much an' we'll all be Ill-o'-noise," said Charley Loganalertly.

  "Them Injuns can't come too soon to suit _me_," growled Fred Thomas."Who started this, anyhow?"

  The sleepy man arose on one elbow, his eyes glinting. "After th' fight,you ask _me_ th' same thing! Th' answer will be ME!" he snapped. "I 'mgoin' to clean house in about two minutes, an' fire you all out in th'street!"

  Jimmy smiled down at him. "Well, you needn't be so sweepin' an'extensive in yore cleanin' operations," he retorted. "All you gotta dois go outside an' roll in th' dust like a chicken."

  The crowd roared its appreciation and the sleepy individual turned overagain, growling sweeping opinions.

  "But if them Injuns are comin' I shore wish they 'd hurry up an' do it,"asserted Dad. "I ought to 'a' been home three days ago."

  "Wish to G--d you was!" came from the floor.

  Bill tossed away his half-smoked cigarette, Carter promptly plunginginto the sugar barrel after it. "They ain't comin'," Bill asserted."Every time some drunk Injun gets in a fight or beats his squaw th'rumor starts. An' by th' time it gets to us it says that all th'Apaches are out follerin' old Geronimo on th' war trail. He can be moreplaces at once than anybody _I_ ever heard of. I 'm ridin' on tomorrowmorning, 'Paches or no 'Paches."

  "Good!" exclaimed Jimmy, glancing at Carter. "I 'll have this herecarving all done by then."

  There was a sudden scrambling and thumping overhead and hot exclamationszephyred down to them. Carter dashed to the door, while the othersreached for rifles and began to take up positions.

  "See 'em, Hank?" cried Carter anxiously.

  "See what?" came a growl from above.

  "Injuns, of course, you d--d fool!"

  "Naw," snorted Hank. "There ain't no Injuns out at all, not after Jimmygot that one."

  "Then what's th' matter?"

  "My dawg's lickin' yore dawg. _Sic_ him, Pete! Hi, there! Don't yourun!"

  "My dawg still gettin' licked?" grinned Carter.

  "I 'll swap you," offered Hank promptly. "Mine can lick yourn, anyhow."

  "In a race, mebby."

  "H--l!" growled Hank, cautiously separating himself from a patch of hotresin that had exuded generously from a pine knot. "I 'm purty nighcooked an' I 'm comin' down, Injuns or no Injuns. If they was comin'this way they'd 'a' been here long afore this."

  "But that Pawnee told Price they was out," objected Carter. "Cassidyheard th' same thing, too. An' didn't Jimmy get one!" he finishedtriumphantly.

  "Th' Pawnee was drunk!" retorted Hank, collecting splinters as heslipped a little down the roof. "Great Mavericks! This here is awful!"He grabbed a protruding nail and checked himself. "Price might 'a' shota 'Pache, or he might not. I don't take him serious no more. An' thatfeller Cassidy can't help what scared folks tells him. Sufferin'_toads_, what a roof!"

  Carter turned and looked back in the store. "Jimmy, you shore they areout? An' _will_ you quit cuttin' that counter!"

  Jimmy slid off the counter and closed the knife. "That's what th'Pawnee said. When I told you fellers about it, you was so plumb anxiousto fight, an' eager to interrupt an' ask fool questions that I shorehated to spoil it all. What that scout says was that th' 'Paches was outraidin' down Colby way, an' was headin' south when last re--"

  "_Colby_!" yelled Lefty Dawson, as the others stared foolishly."_Colby_! Why, that's three hundred miles south of here! An' you letus make fools of ourselves for _three_ days! I 'll bust you open!" andhe arose to carry out his threat. "Where 'd you git them trophies?"shouted Dad angrily. "Them was genuine!" Jimmy slipped through thedoor as Dawson leaped and he fled at top speed to the corral, mounted inone bound and dashed off a short distance. "Why, I got them trophies ina poker game from that same Pawnee scout, you Mosshead! He could n'tplay th' game no better 'n you fellers. An' th' blood is snake's blood,fresh put on. You _will_ drive me out of town, hey?" he jeered, and,wheeling, forthwith rode for his life. Back in the store Bill knockedaside the rifle barrel that Carter shoved through a loop hole. "A joke's a joke, Carter," he said sternly. "You don't aim to hit him, but youmight," and Carter, surprised at the strength of the twist, grinned,muttered something and went to the door without his rifle, which Billsuddenly recognized. It was the weapon that had made up Jimmy's"trophies"!

  "Blame his hide!" spluttered Lefty, not knowing whether to shoot orlaugh. A queer noise behind him made him turn, a movement imitated bythe rest. They saw Bill rolling over and over on the floor in an agonyof mirth. One by one the enraged garrison caught the infection and oneby one lay down on the floor and wept. Lefty, propping himself againstthe sugar barrel, swayed to and fro, senselessly gasping. "They _allus_are raidin' down Colby way! Blame my hide, _oh_, blame my hide!Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha! They _allus_ are raidin' down _Colby_ way!"

  "Three days, an' Hank _on_ th' roof!" gurgled George Bruce. "_Three_days, by Scott!"

  "Hank on th' roof," sobbed Carter, "settin' on splinters an hot rosim!Whee-hee-hee! Three-hee-hee days hatchin' pine knots an' rosim!"

  "Gimme a drink! Gimme a drink!" whispered Dad, doubled up in a corner."Gimme a ho-ho-ho!" he roared in a fresh paroxysm of mirth. "Lefty an'George settin' up nights watchin' th' shadders! Ho-ho-ho!"

  "An' Carter boardin' us _free_!" yelled Baldy; Martin. "Oh, my G--d!He'll never get over it!"

  "Yessir!" squeaked Dad. "_Free_; an' scared we 'd let 'em burn hisstore. 'Better stand 'em off in my place,' he says. 'It's full ofgrub,' he says. He-he-he!"

  "An' did you see Hank squattin' on th' roof like a horned toad waitin'for his dinner?" shouted Dickinson. "I'm goin' to die! I'm goin' todie!" he sobbed.

  "No sich luck!" snorted Hank belligerently. "I 'll skin him alive!Yessir; _alive_!"

  Carter paused in his calculations of his loss in food and tobacco."Better let him alone, Hank," he warned earnestly. "Anyhow, we pesteredhim nigh to death las' time, an' he 's shore come back at us. Betterlet him alone!"

  Up the street Jimmy stood beside his horse and thumped and scratched theyellow dog until its rolling eyes bespoke a bliss unutterable and itstail could not wag because of sheer ecstasy.

  "Purp," he said gravely, "never play jokes on a pore unfortunate an' gitcareless. Don't never forget it. Last time I was here they abused meshameful. Now that th' storm has busted an' this is gettin' calm-like,you an' me 'll go back an' get a good look at th' asylum," he suggested,vaulting into the saddle and starting toward the store. No invitationwas needed because the dog had adopted him on the spot. And the nextmorning, when Jimmy and Bill, loaded with poker-gained wealth, rode outof town and headed south, the dog trotted along in the shadow made byJimmy's horse and glanced up from time to time in hopeful expectanc
y andgreat affection.

  A distant, flat pistol shot made them turn around in the saddle and lookback. A group of the leading citizens of Sharpsville stood in front ofthe Emporium and waved hats in one last, and glad farewell. Now thatJimmy had left town, they altered their sudden plans and decided tocontinue to populate the town of Sharpsville.