CHAPTER VIII.
THE DEATH-SHOT.
Frank was about to follow, when Big Monte clutched weakly at his foot.
"Pard," said the ruffian, "I may never git another chanct to say it.You're the white stuff! They'd shore hanged me a whole lot but for you.Now I has a chanct to die comfortable an' respectable like. Thankee,Frank Merriwell."
"Don't mention it!" said Frank. "Die as comfortably as you can. I haveto go out to help the boys shoot a few of your pards."
"I ain't got northin' agin' them," said Monte; "but I wishes ye luck.They're in the wrong, an' you're right."
At this moment the sound of shooting outside startled Merry, and,without another word, he rushed forth, leaving Monte lying there.
Cimarron Bill had counted on capturing the mine by strategy and meetingwith very little resistance. When Frank had returned and ridden into thevalley Bill knew that it would not do to delay longer, and he had ledhis men in swift pursuit.
But old Joe Crowfoot, faithful as ever, had prepared the miners for theattack; so it came about that the ruffians were met with a volley oflead that dismayed and demoralized them. This was not the kind of workthey relished.
Thus it happened that Frank Merriwell came hurrying forth, only to findthe enemy already repulsed and retreating in disorder.
The starlight showed two men and a horse stretched on the ground, whileanother horse was hobbling about. At a distance down the valley themine-seizers were fleeing.
"They git heap hot time!" said old Joe, in Frank's ear.
"What?" cried Merry. "Have they quit it as quick as this?"
"It looks that way, sir," said Jim Tracy.
"And I didn't get into the game."
"You was too busy defending Big Monte. I hopes you pardons me, sir, butI thinks that was a mistake."
"You have a right to think whatever you like, but I object to yourfreedom in expressing yourself."
This was plain enough, and it told Tracy that Frank would not tolerateany criticism from him.
"It's your own game," muttered Tracy, turning away.
"I see you have dropped two of those chaps."
"Yes."
Revolver in hand, Frank walked out toward the spot where the two figureslay. He was followed by Crowfoot and several others.
The first man was stone-dead.
The next proved to be the Mexican, Pinto Pede, who was sorely wounded.
"That cursed greaser!" growled one of the men. "Give me lief to finishhim, Mr. Merriwell!"
He placed the muzzle of a pistol against Pede's head.
Frank knew that a word from him would send the Mexican into eternity.
"None of that!" he said sternly and commandingly. "Pick the fellow upand take him in yonder. He may not be shot up too bad to recover."
But they drew back.
"Sir," said Tracy, "I don't opine thar is a man here but what thinkshisself too good to be after handlin' the onery greaser."
"And you would let him remain here to die?"
"I reckons that's correct."
In another moment Merry had stooped and lifted the slender body of PintoPede in his arms. With long strides, he bore the Mexican toward thebuilding in which Big Monte lay.
The miners looked on in amazement.
"Waal, he's the limit!" said Jim Tracy, in disgust.
Crowfoot followed Frank, who took Pede into the room and placed himbeside Big Monte. The redskin stopped at the door, where he stood onguard.
"Well, Pede," said Frank, "we'll examine and see just how hard you'rehit."
The Mexican was shot in the side. At first it seemed that the woundmight be fatal, but, examining with the skill of an amateur surgeon,Frank made a discovery.
"She struck a rib, Pede," he said. "She followed around and came outhere. Why, you're not in such a bad way! You may pull through this thingall right. You'd be almost sure to if you had the right sort oftreatment."
The Mexican said nothing, but certain it is that he was bewildered whenhe found Merry dressing the wound. This Frank did with such skill as hepossessed, making the fellow comfortable.
Big Monte had watched all this, and he spoke for the first time when thejob was done.
"I reckon," he said, "that they don't raise galoots like you ev'rywhere.Why, it shore was up to you to finish the two o' us! Why you didn't doit is something I don't understand none at all. An' you keeps them gentsfrom takin' me out an' swingin' me. You shore air plenty diffrunt fromany one I ever meets up with afore!"
Old Joe Crowfoot had been watching everything. The Indian understoodFrank not at all, but whatever "Strong Heart" did Joe was ready to standby.
"Don't worry over it," laughed Merry. "I owe you something, Monte."
"I fail to see what."
"Why, you warned me that Bill and the others meant to jump the mineto-night."
"Did I?"
"Sure thing."
"I don't remember. But I tried ter shoot ye. Bill said you was ter beshot ef you comes a-hustlin' back afore he gits around to doin' his parto' the job."
"You got the worst of it in that little piece of shooting, so we'll callthat even."
"If you says even, I'm more'n willin'."
"Now," said Frank, "I'm going out with the men to watch for a secondattack from Bill. I have to leave you, and some of the boys may take afancy to hang you, after all. That bein' the case, I don't want to leaveyou so you won't have a show. Here, take this gun. With it you may beable to defend yourself until I can reach you. But don't shoot any oneif you can help it, for after that I don't believe even I could saveyou."
So he placed a revolver in the hand of Big Monte and went out, leavingthe wounded ruffians together.
When Frank was gone the two wounded wretches lay quite still for sometime. Finally Pinto Pede stirred and looked at Big Monte.
"How you get shot?" he asked.
"The gent who jest went out done a part o' the job," said Monte, inreply.
"Heem--he shoot you?"
"Yes."
"Ha! You lik' da chance to shoot heem?"
"Waal, I had it, but I missed him. He fooled me a whole lot, fer he jestkept still behind his hoss, what I had salted, an' then he got in at mewith his own bit o' lead."
"That mak' you hate heem! Now you want to keel heem?"
"Oh, I don't know! I don't opine I'm so mighty eager."
"Beel says he gif one thousan' dol' to man who shoot Frank Mer'well."
"That's a good lot."
"Beel he do it."
"No doubt o' that, I reckons."
"Mebbe you an' I haf the chance."
"Waal, not fer me! I quits! When a chap keeps my neck from bein'stretched arter all I has done ter him--waal, that settles it! I opinesI has a leetle humanity left in me. An' he thought I was dyin', too. Ikinder thought so then, but I'm managin' ter pull along. Mebbe I'll comethrough."
The face of Pinto Pede showed that he was thinking black thoughts.
"Gif me da chance!" he finally said. "You no haf to do eet. Gif me dachance. I do eet, an' we divvy da mon'. Ha?"
"Don't count me into your deviltry."
"No count you?"
"No."
"What matter? You no too good. I see you shoot man in back."
"Mebbe you did; but he hadn't kept me from bein' lynched."
"Bah! Why he do eet? You fool! He want to turn you ofer to law."
"Mebbe you're right; I don't know."
"You safe yourself if you help keel him."
"Looker hyer, Pede, I'm a low-down onery skunk; but I reckon thar's alimit even fer me. I've struck it. This hyer Frank Merriwell made meashamed a' myself fer the fust time in a right long time. I know I'm tooonery to reform an' ever be anything decent, even if I don't shuffle offwith these two wounds. All the same, I ain't the snake ter turn an' soakpisen inter Merriwell, an' you hear me. Others may do it, but not BigMonte."
"Bah! All right! You not get half! Yes; you keep steel, you get eet."
"What are y
ou driving at?"
"Wait. Mebbe you see. All you haf to do is keep steel."
"Waal, I'm great at keepin' still," said Monte.
It was not far from morning when Merriwell re-entered that room.
Pinto Pede seemed to be sleeping, but Big Monte was wide-awake.
"Hello!" exclaimed Frank. "So you're still on these shores. I didn'tknow but you had sailed out."
"Pard, I opine mebbe I may git well enough to be hanged, after all,"grinned the big ruffian.
"Possibly you may," said Frank. "And the chances are you would be if Iwere to leave you alone long enough. I heard some of the boys talking.They contemplate taking you out and doing things to you after I'masleep. But they did not reckon that I would come here to sleep, wherethey cannot get their hands on you without disturbing me."
"That was right kind of you," said Monte. "How's Bill?"
"I think that Bill has had his fill for the present. Indications arethat he has left the valley with his whole force, and we are not lookingfor further trouble from him in some time to come."
"Bill shore found hisself up against the real thing," said Monte.
Frank placed a blanket near the door, wrapped himself in it, and wassoon sleeping soundly.
Big Monte seemed to fall asleep after a time.
Finally the Mexican lifted his head and listened. He looked at Monte,and then at Frank. Seeming to satisfy himself, he gently dropped asidehis blanket and began creeping across the floor, making his way towardMerriwell. He moved with the silence of a serpent.
Now, it happened that Big Monte was not asleep, although he had seemedto be. The Mexican had not crept half the distance to Frank when the bigman turned slightly, lifted his head, and watched. As the creepingwretch drew nearer to the sleeping youth the hand of Big Monte wasgently thrust out from the folds of his blanket.
Pede reached Frank, and then arose to his knees. Suddenly he liftedabove his head a deadly knife, which he meant to plunge into the breastof the unconscious sleeper.
At that instant a spout of fire leaped from something in the hand whichBig Monte had thrust from beneath the blanket, and with the crashingreport of the revolver Pede fell forward across the body of his intendedvictim, shot through the brain!
Frank was on his feet in an instant.
"What does this mean?" he cried, astounded, stirring the body of theMexican with his foot.
"You gave me a gun," said Big Monte, "so that I might defend myself. Itcame in handy when I saw Pede gittin' keerless with his knife an' goin'fer to cut you up."
"Was that it?" exclaimed Frank. "Why, he was going to stab me! And yousaved my life by shooting him!"
"Which mebbe makes us some nearer square than we was," said Monte, "asyou saved my life a leetle time ago."