CHAPTER TWELVE.
CHANGES THE SCENE CONSIDERABLY!
We must transport our reader now to a locality somewhere in the regionlying between New Mexico and Colorado. Here, in a mean-lookingout-of-the-way tavern, a number of rough-looking men were congregated,drinking, gambling, and spinning yarns. Some of them belonged to theclass known as cow-boys--men of rugged exterior, iron constitutions,powerful frames, and apparently reckless dispositions, though underneaththe surface there was considerable variety of character to be found.
The landlord of the inn--if we may so call it, for it was little betterthan a big shanty--was known by the name of David. He was a man of coolcourage. His customers knew this latter fact well, and were also awarethat, although he carried no weapon on his person, he had severalrevolvers in handy places under his counter, with the use of which hewas extremely familiar and expert.
In the midst of a group of rather noisy characters who smoked and drankin one corner of this inn or shanty, there was seated on the end of apacking-case, a man in the prime of life, who, even in such roughcompany, was conspicuously rugged. His leathern costume betokened him ahunter, or trapper, and the sheepskin leggings, with the wool outside,showed that he was at least at that time a horseman. Unlike most of hiscomrades, he wore Indian moccasins, with spurs strapped to them. Also acap of the broad-brimmed order. The point about him that was moststriking at first sight was his immense breadth of shoulder and depth ofchest, though in height he did not equal many of the men around him. Asone became acquainted with the man, however, his massive proportions hadnot so powerful an effect on the mind of an observer as the quietsimplicity of his expression and manner. Good-nature seemed to lurk inthe lines about his eyes and the corners of his mouth, which latter hadthe peculiarity of turning down instead of up when he smiled; yet withalthere was a stern gravity about him that forbade familiarity.
The name of the man was Hunky Ben, and the strangest thing about him--that which puzzled these wild men most--was that he neither drank norsmoked nor gambled! He made no pretence of abstaining on principle.One of the younger men, who was blowing a stiff cloud, ventured to askhim whether he really thought these things wrong.
"Well, now," he replied quietly, with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm noparson, boys, that I should set up to diskiver what's right an' what'swrong. I've got my own notions on them points, you bet, but I'm notgoin' to preach 'em. As to smokin', I won't make a smoked herrin' o' mytongue to please anybody. Besides, I don't want to smoke, an' whyshould I do a thing I don't want to just because other people does it?Why should I make a new want when I've got no end o' wants a'readythat's hard enough to purvide for? Drinkin's all very well if a manwants Dutch courage, but I don't want it--no, nor French courage, norGerman, nor Chinee, havin' got enough o' the article home-growed tosarve my purpus. When that's used up I may take to drinkin'--who knows?Same wi' gamblin'. I've no desire to bust up any man, an' I don't wantto be busted up myself, you bet. No doubt drinkin', smokin', an'gamblin' makes men jolly--them at least that's tough an' that wins!--butI'm jolly without 'em, boys,--jolly as a cottontail rabbit just come ofage."
"An' ye look it, old man," returned the young fellow, puffing cloudletswith the utmost vigour; "but come, Ben, won't ye spin us a yarn aboutyour frontier life?"
"Yes, do, Hunky," cried another in an entreating voice, for it was wellknown all over that region that the bold hunter was a good story-teller,and as he had served a good deal on the frontier as guide to the UnitedStates troops, it was understood that he had much to tell of a thrillingand adventurous kind; but although the men about him ceased to talk andlooked at him with expectancy, he shook his head, and would not consentto be drawn out.
"No, boys, it can't be done to-day," he said; "I've no time, for I'mbound for Quester Creek in hot haste, an' am only waitin' here for mypony to freshen up a bit. The Redskins are goin' to give us troublethere by all accounts."
"The red devils!" exclaimed one of the men, with a savage oath; "they'realways givin' us trouble."
"That," returned Hunky Ben, in a soft voice, as he glanced mildly at thespeaker,--"that is a sentiment I heer'd expressed almost exactly in thesame words, though in Capatchee lingo, some time ago by a Redskinchief--only he said it was pale-faced devils who troubled _him_. Iwonder which is worst. They can't both be worst, you know!"
This remark was greeted with a laugh, and a noisy discussion thereuponbegan as to the comparative demerits of the two races, which was erelong checked by the sound of a galloping horse outside. Next moment thedoor opened, and a very tall man of commanding presence and bearingentered the room, took off his hat, and looked round with a slight bowto the company.
There was nothing commanding, however, in the quiet voice with which heasked the landlord if he and his horse could be put up there for thenight.
The company knew at once, from the cut of the stranger's tweed suit, aswell as his tongue, that he was an Englishman, not much used to the waysof the country--though, from the revolver and knife in his belt, and therepeating rifle in his hand, he seemed to be ready to meet the countryon its own terms by doing in Rome as Rome does.
On being told that he could have a space on the floor to lie on, whichhe might convert into a bed if he had a blanket with him, he seemed tomake up his mind to remain, asked for food, and while it was preparingwent out to attend to his horse. Then, returning, he went to a retiredcorner of the room, and flung himself down at full length on a vacantbench, as if he were pretty well exhausted with fatigue.
The simple fare of the hostelry was soon ready; and when the strangerwas engaged in eating it, he asked a cow-boy beside him how far it wasto Traitor's Trap.
At the question there was a perceptible lull in the conversation, andthe cow-boy, who was a very coarse forbidding specimen of his class,said that he guessed Traitor's Trap was distant about twenty mile or so.
"Are you goin' thar, stranger?" he asked, eyeing his questionercuriously.
"Yes, I'm going there," answered the Englishman; "but from what I'veheard of the road, at the place where I stayed last night, I don't liketo go on without a guide and daylight--though I would much prefer topush on to-night if it were possible."
"Wall, stranger, whether possible or not," returned the cow-boy, "it'san ugly place to go past, for there's a gang o' cut-throats there that'skep' the country fizzin' like ginger-beer for some time past. A manthat's got to go past Traitor's Trap should go by like a greasedthunderbolt, an' he should never go alone."
"Is it, then, such a dangerous place?" asked the Englishman, with asmile that seemed to say he thought his informant was exaggerating.
"Dangerous!" exclaimed the cow-boy. "Ay, an will be as long as Buck Toman' his boys are unhung. Why, stranger, I'd get my life insured, youbet, before I'd go thar again--except with a big crowd o' men. It wasalong in June last year I went up that way; there was nobody to go withme, an' I was forced to do it by myself--for I _had_ to go--so I spunkedup, saddled Bluefire, an' sloped. I got on lovely till I came to a passjust on t'other side o' Traitor's Trap, when I began to cheer up,thinkin' I'd got off square; but I hadn't gone another hundred yardswhen up starts Buck Tom an' his men with `hands up.' I went head downflat on my saddle instead, I was so riled. Bang went a six-shooter, an'the ball just combed my back hair. I suppose Buck was so took bysurprise at a single man darin' to disobey his orders that he missed.Anyhow I socked spurs into Bluefire, an' made a break for the opencountry ahead. They made after me like locomotives wi' thesafety-valves blocked, but Bluefire was more'n a match for 'em. Theykep' blazin' away all the time too, but never touched me, though I heardthe balls whistlin' past for a good while. Bluefire an' me went, youbet, like a nor'-easter in a passion, an' at last they gave it up. No,stranger, take my advice an' don't go past Traitor's Trap alone. Iwouldn't go there at all if I could help it."
"I don't intend to go past it. I mean to go _into_ it," said theEnglishman, with a short laugh, as he laid down his knife and fork,havi
ng finished his slight meal; "and, as I cannot get a guide, I shallbe forced to go alone."
"Stranger," said the cow-boy in surprise, "d'ye want to meet wi' BuckTom?"
"Not particularly."
"An' are ye aware that Buck Tom is one o' the most hardened,sanguinacious blackguards in all Colorado?"
"I did not know it before, but I suppose I may believe it now."
As he spoke the Englishman rose and went out to fetch the blanket whichwas strapped to his saddle. In going out he brushed close past a manwho chanced to enter at the same moment.
The newcomer was also a tall and strikingly handsome man, clothed in thepicturesque garments of the cow-boy, and fully armed. He strode up tothe counter, with an air of proud defiance, and demanded drink. It wassupplied him. He tossed it off quickly, without deigning a glance atthe assembled company. Then in a deep-toned voice he asked--
"Has the Rankin Creek Company sent that account and the money?"
Profound silence had fallen on the whole party in the room the momentthis man entered. They evidently looked at him with profound interestif not respect.
"Yes, Buck Tom," answered the landlord, in his grave off-hand manner;"They have sent it, and authorised me to pay you the balance."
He turned over some papers for a few minutes, during which Buck Tom didnot condescend to glance to one side or the other, but kept his eyefixed sternly on the landlord.
At that moment the Englishman re-entered, went to his corner, spread hisblanket on the floor, lay down, put his wide-awake over his eyes, andresigned himself to repose, apparently unaware that anything special wasgoing on, and obtusely blind to the quiet but eager signals wherewiththe cow-boy was seeking to direct his attention to Buck Tom.
In a few minutes the landlord found the paper he wanted, and began tolook over it.
"The company owes you," he said, "three hundred dollars ten cents forthe work done," said the landlord slowly.
Buck nodded his head as if satisfied with this.
"Your account has run on a long while," continued the landlord, "andthey bid me explain that there is a debit of two hundred and ninety-ninedollars against you. Balance in your favour one dollar ten cents."
A dark frown settled on Buck Tom's countenance, as the landlord laid thebalance due on the counter, and for a few moments he seemed inuncertainty as to what he should do, while the landlord stoodconveniently near to a spot where one of his revolvers lay. Then Buckturned on his heel, and was striding towards the door, when the landlordcalled him back.
"Excuse my stopping you, Buck Tom," he said, "but there's a gentlemanhere who wants a guide to Traitor's Trap. Mayhap you wouldn't objectto--"
"Where is he?" demanded Buck, wheeling round, with a look of slightsurprise.
"There," said the landlord, pointing to the dark corner where the bigEnglishman lay, apparently fast asleep, with his hat pulled well downover his eyes.
Buck Tom looked at the sleeping figure for a few moments.
"H'm! well, I might guide him," he said, with something of a grim smile,"but I'm travelling too fast for comfort. He might hamper me. By theway," he added, looking back as he laid his hand on the door, "you maytell the Rankin Creek Company, with my compliments, to buy a new lock totheir office door, for I intend to call on them some day soon andbalance up that little account on a new system of 'rithmetic! Tell themI give 'em leave to clap the one dollar ten cents to the credit of theircharity account."
Another moment and Buck Tom was gone. Before the company in the tavernhad quite recovered the use of their tongues, the hoofs of his horsewere heard rattling along the road which led in the direction ofTraitor's Trap.
"Was that really Buck Tom?" asked Hunky Ben, in some surprise.
"Ay--or his ghost," answered the landlord.
"I can swear to him, for I saw him as clear as I see you the night hesplit after me," said the cowboy, who had warned the Englishman.
"Why didn't you put a bullet into him to-night, Crux?" asked a comrade.
"Just so--you had a rare chance," remarked another of the cow-boys, withsomething of a sneer in his tone.
"Because I'm not yet tired o' my life," replied Crux, indignantly."Back Tom has got eyes in the back o' his head, I do believe, and shootsdead like a flash--"
"Not that time he missed you at Traitor's Trap, I think," said theother.
"Of course not--'cause we was both mounted that time, and scurryin' overrough ground like wild-cats. The best o' shots would miss thar an'thus. Besides, Buck Tom took nothin' from me, an' ye wouldn't have meshoot a man for missin' me--surely. If you're so fond o' killin', whydidn't you shoot him yourself?--_you_ had a rare chance!"
Crux grinned--for his ugly mouth could not compass a smile--as hethought thus to turn the tables on his comrade.
"Well, he's got clear off, anyhow, returned the comrade, an' it's apity, for--"
He was interrupted by the Englishman raising himself and asking in asleepy tone if there was likely to be moonlight soon.
The company seemed to think him moon-struck to ask such a question, butone of them replied that the moon was due in half an hour.
"You've lost a good chance, sir," said Crux, who had a knack of makingall his communications as disagreeably as possible, unless they chancedto be unavoidably agreeable, in which case he made the worst of them."Buck Tom hisself has just bin here, an' might have agreed to guide youto Traitor's Trap if you'd made him a good offer."
"Why did you not awake me?" asked the Englishman in a reproachful tone,as he sprang up, grasped his blanket hastily, threw down a piece ofmoney on the counter, and asked if the road wasn't straight and easy fora considerable distance.
"Straight as an arrow for ten mile," said the landlord, as he laid downthe change which the Englishman put into an apparently well-filledpurse.
"I'll guide you, stranger, for five dollars," said Crux.
"I want no guide," returned the other, somewhat brusquely, as he leftthe room.
A minute or two later he was heard to pass the door on horseback at asharp trot.
"Poor lad, he'll run straight into the wolf's den; but why he wants todo it puzzles me," remarked the landlord, as he carefully cleaned atankard. "But he would take no warning."
"The wolf doesn't seem half as bad as he's bin painted," said Hunky Ben,rising and offering to pay his score.
"Hallo, Hunky--not goin' to skip, are ye?" asked Crux.
"I told ye I was in a hurry. Only waitin' to rest my pony. My road isthe same as the stranger's, at least part o' the way. I'll overhaul an'warn him."
A few minutes more and the broad-shouldered scout was also gallopingalong the road or track which led towards the Rocky mountains in thedirection of Traitor's Trap.