CHAPTER XVIII
THE SHERIFF AND OTHERS
Chance, disconsolate, wandered about Antelope, returning at last to liebefore the door of the sheriff's office. The sheriff, havingreestablished himself, for the nonce, in the bosom of his family,strolled out to the street. He called to Chance, who dashed towardhim, then stopped with neck bristling.
The sheriff's companion laughed. "I was going to feed him," explainedthe sheriff.
"I know what I'd feed him," growled his companion.
"What for? He's faithful to his boss--and that's something."
The other grunted and they passed up the street. Groups of men waylaidthem asking questions. As they drifted from one group to another, thefriend remarked that his companion seemed to be saying little. Thestout sheriff smiled. He was listening.
Chance, aware that something was wrong, fretted around the door ofSundown's temporary habitation. Finally he threw himself down, nose onoutstretched paws, and gazed at the lights and the men across the way.Later, when the town had become dark and silent, the dog rose, shookhimself, and padded down the highway taking the trail for the Concho.He knew that his master's disappearance had not been voluntary. Healso knew that his own appearance alone at the Concho would be evidencethat something had gone wrong.
Once well outside the town, Chance settled to a long, steady stridethat ate into the miles. At the water-hole he leaped the closed gateand drank. Again upon the road he swung along across the starlitmesas, taking the hills at a trot and pausing on each rise to rest andsniff the midnight air. Then down the slopes he raced, and out acrossthe levels, the great bunching muscles of his flanks and shouldersworking tirelessly. As dawn shimmered across the ford he trotted downthe mud-bank and waded into the stream, where he stood shoulder-deepand lapped the cool water.
Corliss, early afoot, found him curled at the front door of theranch-house. Chance braced himself on his fore legs and yawned. Thenstretching he rose and, frisking about Corliss, tried to make himselfunderstood. Corliss glanced toward the corral, half expecting to seeSundown's horse. Then he stepped to the men's quarters. He greetedWingle, asking him if Sundown had returned.
"No. Thought he went east."
"Chance came back, alone."
And Corliss and the cook eyed each other simultaneously and nodded.
"Loring," said Wingle.
"Guess you're right, Hi."
"Sheriff must 'a' been out of town and got back just in time to meet upwith Sundown," suggested Wingle. And he seized a scoop and dug intothe flour barrel.
An hour later the buckboard stood at the ranch gate. Bud Shoop,crooning a range-ditty that has not as yet disgraced an anthology,stood flicking the rear wheel with his whip:--
"Oh, that biscuit-shooter on the Santa Fe, --Hot coffee, ham-and-eggs, huckleberry pies,-- Got every lonely puncher that went down that way With her yella-bird hair and them big blue eyes . . .
"For a two-bit feed and a two-bit smile . . ."
The song was interrupted by the appearance of Corliss, who swung to theseat and took the reins.
"I'll jog 'em for a while," he said as Shoop climbed beside him. "Goahead, Bud. Don't mind me."
Shoop laughed and gestured over his shoulder. "Chance, there, issleepin' with both fists this lovely mornin'. Wonder how Sun is makin'it?"
"We'll find out," said Corliss, shaking his head.
"Believe us! For we're goin' to town! Say, ain't you kind of offerin'Jim Banks a chance to get you easy?"
"If he wants to. If he locked Sundown up, he made the wrong move."
"It's easy!" said Shoop, gesturing toward the Loring rancho as theypassed. "Goin' to bush at the water-hole to-night?"
"No. We'll go through."
Shoop whistled. "Suits me! And I reckon the team is good for it."
He glanced sideways at Corliss, who sat with eyes fixed straight ahead.The cattle-man's face was expressionless. He was thinking hard andfast, but chose to mask it.
Suddenly Shoop, who had watched him some little time, burst into song."Suits me!" he reiterated, more or less ambiguously, by the way, for hehad just concluded another ornate stanza of the "Biscuit-shooter" lyric.
"It's a real song," remarked Corliss.
"Well, now!" exclaimed Shoop. And thereafter he also became silent,knowing from experience that when Corliss had anything worth while tosay, he would say it.
About noon they reached the water-hole where Corliss spent some timeexamining the fences and inspecting the outbuildings.
"She's in right good shape yet," commented Shoop.
"The title has reverted to the State. It's queer Loring hasn't triedto file on it."
"Mebby he's used his homestead right a'ready," suggested Shoop. "ButNell Loring could file."
They climbed back into the buckboard. Again Shoop began a stanza ofhis ditty. He seemed well pleased about something. Possibly herealized that his employer's attitude had changed; that he had at lastawakened to the obvious necessity for doing something. As Corliss putthe team to a brisk trot the foreman's song ran high. Action was hiselement. Inactivity tended to make him more or less cynical, and ateinto his tobacco money.
Suddenly Corliss turned to him. "Bud, I'm going to homestead thatranch."
"Whoop!" cried the foreman. "First shot at the buck!"
"I'm going to put Sundown on it, for himself. He's steady and wouldn'thurt a fly."
Shoop became silent. He, in turn, stared straight ahead.
"What do you think of it?" queried Corliss.
"Nothin'. 'Cept I wouldn't mind havin' a little ole homestead myself."
Corliss laughed. "You're not cut out for it, Bud. You mean you'd likethe chance to make the water-hole a base for operations against Loring.And the place isn't worth seed, Bud."
"But that water is goin' to be worth somethin'--and right soon. Loringcan't graze over this side the Concho, if he can't get to water."
"That's it. If I put you on that ranch, you'd stand off Loring'soutfit to the finish, I guess."
"I sure would."
"That's why I want Sundown to take it up. He'd let his worst enemywater sheep or cattle there. He won't fight, but he's loyal enough tomy interests to sue Loring for trespass, if necessary."
"See you and raise you one, Jack. They'll bluff Sun clean off his hindfeet. He won't stick."
"I'll chance it, Bud. And, besides, I need you right where you are."
"I'm sure happy!" exclaimed the irrepressible Bud, grinning.
Corliss laughed, then shook his head. "I'll tell you one thing," hesaid, facing his foreman. "I've been 'tending too many irons and someof 'em are getting cold. I don't want trouble with any one. I've heldoff from Loring because--oh--because I had a good reason to saynothing. Billy's out of it again. The coast is clear, and I'm goingto give old man Loring the fight of his life."
The whoop which Shoop let out startled the team into a lunging gallop."Go it, if you want to!" said Corliss as the buckboard swung around aturn and took the incline toward Antelope. "I'm in a hurry myself."
Nevertheless, he saved the team as they struck the level and held themto a trot. "Wise old head," was Shoop's inward comment. And thenaloud: "Say, Jack, I ain't sayin' I'm glad to see you get beat up, butthat bing on the head sure got you started right. The boys wascommencin' to wonder how long you'd stand it without gettin' your backup. She's up. I smell smoke."
At Antelope, Shoop put up the horses. Later he joined his employer andthey had supper at the hotel. Then they strolled out and down thestreet toward the sheriff's home. When they knocked at the door it wasopened by a plump, dark-eyed woman who greeted them heartily.
"Come right in, boys. Jim's tendin' the baby." And she took theirhats.
They stepped to the adjoining room where Sheriff Jim sat on the floor,his coat off, while his youngest deputy, clad only in an abbreviatedessential garnished with a safety-pin, sat opposite, gravely tearing upthe evening p
aper and handing the pieces to his proud father, whostuffed the pieces in his pants pocket and cheerfully asked for more.
"Election?" queried Shoop.
"And all coming Jim's way," commented Corliss.
The baby paused in his balloting and solemnly surveyed the dustystrangers. Then he pulled a piece of paper from his father's pocketand offered it to Shoop. "Wants me to vote, the little cuss! Well,here goes." And, albeit unfamiliar with plump aborigines at closerange, the foreman entered into the spirit of the game and cast hisvote for the present incumbent, deputizing the "yearlin'" to handle thematter. The yearling however, evidently thought it was time for arecount. He gravitated to the perspiring candidate and, standing onhis hands and feet,--an attitude which seemingly caused him noinconvenience,--reached in the ballot-box and pulling therefrom ahandful of votes he cast them ceiling-ward with a shrill laugh,followed by an unintelligible spluttering as he sat down suddenly andbegan to pick up the scattered pieces of paper.
"You're elected," announced Shoop.
And the by-play was understood by the three men, yet each maintainedhis unchanged expression of countenance.
"You see how I'm fixed, boys," said the sheriff. "Got to stick by myconstituent or he'll howl."
"We're in no hurry, Jim. Just drove into town to look around a little."
"I'll take him now," said Mrs. Jim, as she came from the kitchen dryingher hands on her apron.
The elector, however, was of a different mind. He greeted his motherwith a howl and a series of windmill revolutions of his arms and legsas she caught him up.
"Got mighty free knee-action," remarked Shoop. "Mebby when he's beddeddown for the night you can come over to the 'Palace.'"
"I'll be right with you." And the sheriff slipped into his coat. "Howyou feeling, Jack?"
"Pretty good. That's a great boy of yours."
"Sure got your brand," added Shoop. "Built close to the ground likehis dad."
Sheriff Banks accepted these hardy compliments with an embarrassed grinand followed his guests to the doorway.
"Good-night!" called Mrs. Jim from the obscurity of the bedroom.
"Good-night, ma'am!" from Shoop.
"Good-night!" said Corliss. "Take good care of that yearling."
"Well, now, John, as if I wouldn't!"
"Molly would come out," apologized Jim, "only the kid is--is grazin'.How's the feed holdin' out on the Concho?" which question following innatural sequence was not, however, put accidentally.
"Fair," said Corliss. "We looked for you up that way."
"I was over on the Reservation. I sent Tom up there to see afterthings," and the sheriff gestured toward the distant Concho. "Sent himup to-night. Let's go over to the office."
Corliss shook his head. "Don't want to see him, just now. Besides, Iwant to say a few things private."
"All right. There was a buyer from Kansas City dropped in to townto-day. Didn't see him, did you?"
"Cattle?"
"Uhuh."
"No. We just got in."
They turned and walked up the street, nodding to an occasional lounger,laughing and talking easily, yet each knew that their banter was ameandering current leading to something deeper which would be soundedbefore they separated.
Sheriff Banks suddenly stopped and slapped his thigh. "By Gum! Iclean forgot to ask if you had chuck. You see that kid of mine--"
"Sure! But we put the 'Palace' two feeds to the bad," asserted Shoop.
They drifted to the hotel doorway and paused at the counter where eachgravely selected a cigar. Then they clumped upstairs to Corliss'sroom. Jim Banks straddled a chair and faced his friends.
Shoop, excusing himself with humorous politeness, punched the pillowstogether and lay back on the bed which creaked and rustled beneath hisweight. "These here corn-husk mattresses is apologizin'," he said,twisting around and leaning on his elbow.
"Well, Jack," said the smiling sheriff, "shoot the piece."
"Or the justice of the peace--don't matter," murmured Shoop.
Corliss, leaning forward, gazed at the end of his cigar. Then heraised his eyes. "Jim," he said quietly, "I want Sundown."
"So do I."
Corliss smiled. "You've got him, all right. What's your idea?"
"Well, if anybody else besides you asked me, Jack, they'd be wastingtime. Sundown is your man. I don't know anything about him except hewas a Hobo before he hit the Concho. But I happen to know that he waspretty close to the place where Fadeaway got his, the same day andabout the same time. I've listened to all the talk around town and ithasn't all been friendly to you. You can guess that part of it."
"If you want me--" began Corliss.
"No." And the sheriff's gesture of negation spread a film of cigar-ashon the floor. "It's the other man I want."
"Sundown?" asked Shoop, sitting up suddenly.
"You go to sleep, Bud," laughed the sheriff. "You can't catch me thateasy."
Shoop relaxed with the grin of a school-boy.
"I'll go bail," offered Corliss.
"No. That would spoil my plan. See here, Jack, I know you and Budwon't talk. Loring telephoned me to look out for Sundown. I did.Now, Loring knows who shot Fadeaway, or I miss my guess. Nellie Loringknows, too. So do you, but you can't prove it. It was like Fade toput Loring's sheep into the canon, but we can't prove even that, now.I'm pretty sure your scrap with Fade didn't have anything to do withhis getting shot. You ain't that kind."
"Well, here's my side of it, Jim. Fadeaway had it in for me for firinghim. He happened to see me talking to Nellie Loring at Fernando'scamp. Later we met up on the old Blue Trail. He said one or twothings that I didn't like. I let him have it with the butt of myquirt. He jerked out his gun and hit me a clip on the head. That'sall I remember till the boys came along."
"You didn't ride as far as the upper ford, that day?"
"No. I told Fadeaway I wanted him to come back with me and talk toLoring. I was pretty sure he put the sheep into the canon."
"Well, Jack, knowing you since you were a boy, that's good enough forme."
"But how about Sundown?"
"He stays. How long do you think I'll hold Sundown before Nell Loringdrives into Antelope to tell me she can like as not prove he didn'tkill Fade?"
"But if you know that, why do you hold him?"
"To cinch up my ideas, tight. Holding him will make talk. Folksalways like to show off what they know about such things. It's naturalin 'em."
"New Mex. is a comf'table-sized State," commented Shoop from the bed.
"And he was raised there," said the sheriff. "He's got friends overthe line and so have I. Sent 'em over last week."
"Thought Sun was raised back East?" said Shoop, again sitting up.
Corliss smiled. "Better give it up, Bud."
"Oh, _very_ well!" said Shoop, mimicking a _grande dame_ who had oncestopped at Antelope in search for local color. "Anyhow, you got to seta Mexican to catch a Mexican when he's hidin' out with Mexicans." Withthis bit of advice, Shoop again relapsed to silence.
"Going back to the Concho to-morrow?" queried Banks.
"No. Got a little business in town."
"I heard Loring was due here to-morrow." The sheriff stated thiscasually, yet with intent. "I was talking with Art Kennedy 'bout twohours ago--"
"Kennedy the land-shark?" queried Shoop.
"The same. He said something about expecting Loring."
Bud Shoop had never aspired to the distinction of being called adiplomat, but he had an active and an aggressive mind. With theinstinct for seizing the main chance by its time-honored forelock, herose swiftly. "By Gravy, Jack! I gone and left them things in thebuckboard!"
"Oh, they'll be all right," said Corliss easily. Then he caught hisforeman's eye and read its meaning. His nod to Shoop was all butimperceptible.
"I dunno, Jack. I'd hate to lose them notes."
"Notes?" And the sheriff grinned. "Writi
ng a song or starting a bank,Bud?"
"Song. I was composin' it to Jack, drivin' in." And the genial Budgrabbed his hat and swept out of the room.
Long before he returned, Sheriff Jim had departed puzzling over theforeman's sudden exit until he came opposite "The Last Chance" saloon.There he had an instant glimpse of Bud and the one known as Kennedyleaning against the bar and conversing with much gusto. Then theswing-door dropped into place. The sheriff smiled and putting two andtwo together found that they made four, as is usually the case. He hadwanted to let Corliss know that Loring was coming to Antelope and tolet him know casually, and glean from the knowledge anything that mightbe of value. Sheriff Banks knew a great deal more about the affairs ofthe distant ranchers than he was ordinarily given credit for. He hadlong wondered why Corliss had not taken up the water-hole homestead.
Corliss was in bed when Shoop swaggered in. The foreman did a fewsteps of a jig, flung his hat in the corner, and proceeded to undress.
"Did you see Kennedy?" yawned Corliss.
"Bet your whiskers I did! Got the descriptions in my pocket. You oweme the price of seven drinks, Jack, to say nothin' of what I tookmyself. Caught him at 'The Last Chance' and let on I was the porelonely cowboy with a sufferin' thirst. Filled him up with'Look-out-I'm-Comin'' and landed him at his shack, where he dug up themole water-hole descriptions, me helpin' promiscus. He kind o' buckedwhen I ast him for them papers. Said he only had one copy that he washoldin' for another party. And I didn't have to strain my guesser any,to guess who. I told him to saw off and get busy quick or I'd have himpinched for playin' favorites. Guess he seen I meant business, for hecome acrost. She toots for Antelope six-forty tomorrow mornin'. Thisis where I make the grand play as a homesteader, seein' pore Sundown'seatin' on the county. Kind o' had a hunch that way."
"We'll have to nail it quick. If you file you'll have to quit on theConcho."
"Well, then, I quit. Sinker is right in line for my bunk. Me for thebig hammer and the little ole sign what says: 'Private property! Keepoff! All trespassers will be executed!' And underneath, kind o'sassy-like, 'Bud Shoop, proprietor.'"