Sundown Slim

  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE INVADERS

  The Mexican whipped his gun out and covered Sundown, who wisely put uphis hands. Two of the men crawled through the fence, secured Sundown'shorse, and ordered him to dismount. Before both feet had touched theground one of the Mexicans had snatched Sundown's gun from its holster.Chance leaped at the Mexican, but Sundown's "Here, Chance!" brought thedog growling to his master.

  At that moment Loring stepped from the house, and shouldering aside themen strode up to Sundown. The sheep-man was about to speak when thetall one raised his arm and shook his fist in Loring's face.

  "Fer two pins I'd jump you and stomp the gizzard out of you, youlow-down, dried-up, whisker-faced, mutton-eatin' butcher, you! I goesto you and makes you a square offer and you come pussy-footin' in andsteals me ranch when I ain't there! If Jack Corliss don't run youplumb off the edge afore to-morrow night, I'll sure see if there's anylaw--" and Sundown paused for lack of breath.

  "Law? Mebby you think you got somethin' to say about this herewater-hole, and mebby not," said Loring. "Don't get het up. I come tothis country before you knew it was here. And for law--I reckon seein'you're wanted by the law that them papers of yourn is good for startin'a fire--and nothin' more. The _law_ says that no man wanted by the lawkin homestead. The water-hole is open to the fust man that wants itand I'm the fust. Now mebby you can think that over and cool off."

  Sundown was taken aback. Though unversed in the intricacies of thelaw, he was sensible enough to realize that Loring was right. Yet heheld tenaciously to his attitude of proprietor of the water-hole. Itwas his home--the only home that he had known in his variegated career.The fact that he was not guilty buoyed him up, however. He decidedthat discretion had its uses. As his first anger evaporated, he castabout for a plan whereby to notify Corliss of the invasion of thewater-hole ranch. His glance wandered to Chance.

  Then he raised his eyes. "Well, now the fireworks is burned down, whatyou goin' to do?"

  Loring gestured toward the house. "That's my business. But you canturn in and cook grub for the men. That'll keep you from thinkin' toohard, and we're like to be busy."

  "Then you're takin' me prisoner?" queried Sundown.

  "That's correc'."

  "How about the law of that?"

  "This outfit's makin' its own laws these days," said Loring.

  And so far as Loring was concerned that ended the argument. Not so,however, with Sundown. He said nothing. Had Loring known him better,that fact would have caused him to suspect his prisoner. With evidentmeekness the tall one entered the house and gazed with disconsolateeyes at the piled kyacks of provisions, the tarpaulins and sheepskins.His citadel of dreams had been rudely invaded, in truth. He was not somuch angered by the possible effects of the invasion as by the fact.Gentle Annie was lowing plaintively. The chickens were scurrying aboutthe yard, cackling hysterically as they dodged this and that herder.The two pigs, Sundown reflected consolingly, seemed happy enough.Loring, standing in the doorway, pointed to the stove. "Get busy," hesaid tersely. That was the last straw. Silently Sundown stalked tothe stove, rolled up his sleeves, and went to work. If there were nota score of mighty sick herders that night, it would not be his fault.He had determined on a bloodless but effective victory, wherein sodaand cream-of-tartar should be the victors.

  Soda and cream-of-tartar in proper proportions is harmless. But doublethe proportion of cream-of-tartar and the result is internal riot."And a leetle spice to kill the bitter of the taste ought to work allright," he soliloquized. Then he remembered Chance. Loring had leftto oversee the establishment of an outlying camp. The Mexican whoassisted Sundown seemed stupid and sullen. Sundown found excuse toenter his bedroom, where he hastily scrawled a note to Corliss. Laterhe tied the note to the inside of the dog's collar. The next thing wasto get Chance started on the road to the Concho. He rolled down hissleeves and strolled to the doorway. A Mexican sat smoking andwatching the road. Sundown stepped past him and began to tinker withthe gas-engine. Chance stood watching him. Presently the gas-enginestarted with a cough and splutter. Sundown walked to the door andseemed about to enter when the Mexican called to him and pointed towardthe distant tank. Water was pouring over its rim. "Gee Gosh!"exclaimed Sundown. "I got to shut her off." He ran to the engine andits sound ceased. Yet the water still poured from the rim of the tank."Got to fix that!" he asserted, and started toward the tank. TheMexican followed him to the fence.

  "You come back?" he queried significantly.

  "Sure thing! I ain't got a hoss, have I?"

  The Mexican nodded. Sundown crawled through the fence and strodeslowly to the tank. He pretended to examine it first in view of thehouse and finally on the opposite side. As Chance sniffed along thebottom of the tank, Sundown spoke to him. The dog's ears prickedforward. Sundown's tone suggested action. "Here, Chance,--you fan itfor the Concho--Jack--the boss. Beat it for all you're worth. TheConcho! Sabe?" And he patted the dog's head and pointed toward thesouth.

  Chance hesitated, leaping up and whining.

  "That's all right, pardner. They ain't nothin' goin' to happen to me.You go!"

  Chance trotted off a few yards and then turned his head inquiringly.

  "That's right. Keep a-goin'. It's your stunt this time." And Sundownwaved his arm.

  The return of Sundown without the dog occasioned no suspicion on theMexican's part. He most naturally thought, if he considered the factat all, that the dog was hunting the mesas. Then Sundown entered thehouse and experimented with soda and cream-of-tartar as though he wereconcocting a high explosive with proportions of the ingredientscalculated to produce the most satisfactory results. His plan,however, was nipped in the bud. That night the herders refused to eatthe biscuits after tasting them.

  Hi Wingle, coming from the bunk-house, wiped his hands on his apron,rolled a cigarette, and squatted in the shade. From within came theclatter of knives and forks and the rattle of dishes. The riders ofthe Concho were about through dinner. Wingle, gazing down the road,suddenly cast his cigarette away and rose. The road seemed empty savefor a lean brown shape that raced toward the Concho with sweepingstride. "It's the dog. Wonder what's up now?"

  Chance, his muzzle specked with froth and his tongue lolling, swunginto the yard and trotted to Wingle. "Boss git piled ag'in?" queriedthe cook, patting Chance's head. "What you scratchin' about?"

  The dog lay panting and occasionally pawing at his collar.

  "What's the matter? Cockle-burr?" And Wingle ran his fingers underthe collar. "So? Playin' mail-man, eh?"

  He spread out the note and read it. Slowly he straightened up andslowly he walked to the bunk-house. "No. Guess I'll tell Jack first."

  He strode to the office and laid the note on Corliss's desk. Therancher, busy running up totals on the pay-roll, glanced at thesweat-stained piece of paper. He read it and pushed it from him. "Allright, Hi."

  Wingle hesitated, then stepped out and over to the bunk-house. "Takesit mighty cool! Wonder what he's got up his sleeve. Somethin'--sure!"

  Corliss studied the note. Then he reached for paper and envelopes andwrote busily. One of the letters was to the sheriff in Antelope. Itwas brief.

  I'm going to push a bunch of stock over to the water-hole range. Myboys have instructions not to shoot. That's the best I can do for themand the other side. JOHN CORLISS.

  The other letter was to Nell Loring. Then he rose and buckled on hisgun. At the bunk-house he gave the letters to Lone Johnny, who saddledand departed immediately.

  Without making the contents of the note known, he told the men thatthey would join Bud Shoop and his outfit at the Knoll and push the herdnorth. Later he took Wingle aside and told him that he could stay andlook after the rancho.

  The indignant Hi rolled down his sleeves, spat, and glared at Corliss."I quit," he snapped. "You can hire a new cook."

  Despite his preoccupation Corliss smiled. "All right
, Hi. Now thatyou're out of a job, you might saddle up and ride with us. We'll needsome one to keep us good-natured, I reckon."

  "Now you're whistlin'!" said Wingle. "Got a gun I can use? I givemine to Sundown."

  "There's one over in the office on the desk. But we're going to pushthe herd over to the water-hole. We're not going there to fight."

  "Huh! Goin' to be quiet, eh? Mebby I better take my knittin' along topass the time."

  And Wingle departed toward the office. Rejoining Corliss they rodewith the men to the Knoll. Bud Shoop nodded gravely as his employertold him of Loring's occupation of the west bank of the river. Thenthe genial Bud rode over to the herd that was bunched in anticipationof just such a contingency as had developed. "It's a case of push 'emalong easy--and all night," he told his men. "And if any of you boysis out of cartridges there's plenty in the wagon."

  John Corliss rode with his men. He told them to cut out any strayTwo-Bar-O stock they saw and turn them back. Toward evening they hadthe cattle in motion, drifting slowly toward the north. The sixteenriders, including Corliss and Wingle, spread out and pushed the herdacross the afternoon mesas. The day was hot and there was no waterbetween the Knoll and Sundown's ranch. Corliss intended to hold thecattle when within a mile of the water-hole by milling them untildaylight. When they got the smell of water, he knew that he would notbe able to hold them longer, nor did he wish to. He regretted the factthat Chance was running with him, for he knew that Loring's men, underthe circumstances, would shoot the dog if they had opportunity.

  Toward evening the outfit drew up in a draw and partook of a heartysupper. The cattle began to lag as they were urged forward, and Chancewas called into requisition to keep after the stragglers. As the herdwas not large,--in fact, numbered but five hundred,--it was possible tokeep it moving steadily and well bunched, throughout the night.

  Within a short mile of the water-hole the riders began to mill the herd.

  Bud Shoop, riding up to Corliss, pointed toward the east. "Reckon wecan't hold 'em much longer, Jack. They're crazy dry--and they smellwater."

  "All right, Bud. Hold 'em for fifteen minutes more. Then take four ofthe boys with you and fan it for the road. You can cache in that drawjust north of the water-hole. About sunup the herd'll break for water.Loring's outfit will be plenty busy on this side, about then. If he'sgot any gunmen handy, they'll be camped at the ranch. Chances are thatwhen the cattle stampede a band or two of sheep, he'll turn his men onus. That's your time to ride down and take possession of the ranch.Most likely you won't have to draw a gun."

  Shoop reined close to Corliss and held out his hand. "Mebby not, Jack.But if we do--so-long."

  Then the genial Bud loped to the outriders, picking them up one by one.The cattle, freed from the vigilance of the circling horsemen, sniffedthe dawn, crowded to a wedge, and began to trot, then to run. Shoopand his four companions spurred ahead, swung to the road, and thunderedpast the ranch-house as a faint edge of light shot over the easternhorizon. They entered the mouth of the draw, swung around, and reinedup.

  "We're goin' to chip in when Jack opens the pot," said Shoop. "Justhow strong we'll come in depends on how strong Jack opens her." Thenwith seeming irrelevance he remarked casually: "Sinker wasn't such abad ole scout."

  "Which Loring's goin' to find out right soon," said "Mebby-So," a leanTexan.

  "Sinker's sure goin' to have company, I take it," remarked "Bull"Cassidy.

  "Boss's orders is to take her without makin' any noise," said Shoop.

  "Huh! _I'm_ plumb disappointed," asserted Mebby-So. "I was figurin'on singin' hymns and accompanyin' meself on me--me cayuse. Listen!Somethin' 's broke loose!"

  Thundering like an avalanche the herd swept down on the water-hole,ploughing through a band of sheep that were bedded down between themand the ranch. The herder's tent was torn to ribbons. Wingle,trailing behind the herd, dismounted, and, stooping, disarmed thebruised and battered Mexican who had struggled to his feet as he rodeup.

  From the water-hole came shouts, and Corliss saw several men comerunning from the house to seize their horses and ride out toward thecattle. The band of riders opened up and the distant popping ofWinchesters told him that the herders were endeavoring to check therush of the thirst-maddened steers. The carcasses of sheep, trampledto pulp, lay scattered over the mesa.

  "It sure is hell!" remarked Wingle, riding up to Corliss.

  "Hell is correct," said Corliss, spurring forward. "Now I reckon we'llride over to the rancho and see if Loring wants any more of it."

  Silently the rancher and his men rode toward the water-hole. As theydrew near the line fence, the Mexican riders, swinging in a widecircle, spurred to head them off.

  "Hold on!" shouted Corliss. "We'll pull up and wait for 'em."

  "Suits me," said Wingle, loosening his gun from the holster.

  The Mexicans, led by Loring, loped up and reined with a slither ofhoofs and the snorting of excited ponies. Corliss held up his hand.Loring spurred forward and Corliss rode to meet him.

  "Want any more of it?" queried Corliss.

  "I'll take all you got," snarled Loring.

  "All right. Just listen a minute." And Corliss reached in hissaddle-pocket. "Here's a lease from the Government covering the tensections adjoining the water-hole ranch, on the south and west. Andhere's a contract with the owner of the water-hole, signed andwitnessed, for the use of the water for my stock. You're playing anold-fashioned game, Loring, that's out of date. Want to look overthese papers?"

  "To hell with your papers. I'm here and I'm goin' to stay."

  "Well, we'll visit you regular," shouted a puncher.

  "Better come over to the house and talk things over," said Corliss. "Idon't want trouble with you--but my boys do."

  Loring hesitated. One of his men, spurring up, whispered to him.

  Wingle, keenly alert, restrained a cowboy who was edging forward."Don't start nothin'," he said. "If she's goin' to start, she'll startherself."

  Loring turned to Corliss. "I'd like to look at them papers," he saidslowly.

  "All right. We'll ride over to the house."

  The two bands of riders swung toward the north, passed the tank, andtrotted up to the ranch-gate. They dismounted and were met by Shoopand his companions. Loring blinked and muttered. He had beenoutgeneraled. One of the Concho riders laughed. Loring's hand slippedto his belt. "Don't," said Corliss easily. The tension relaxed, andthe men began joking and laughing.

  "Where's Sundown?" queried Corliss.

  Loring gestured toward the house.

  "I'll go," said Wingle. And he shouldered through the group ofscowling herders and entered the house.

  Sundown, with hands tied, was sitting on the edge of his bed. "Theyroped me," he said lugubriously, "in me own house. Bud he was goin' tountie me, but I says for the love of Mike leave me tied or I'll take achair and brain that Chola what kicked Gentle Annie in the stummickthis mornin'. He was goin' to milk her and I reckon she didn't likehis looks. Anyhow, she laid him out with a kind of hind-leg upper-cut.When he come to, he set in to kickin' her. I got his picture and if Iget me hands on him . . ."

  Wingle cut the rope and Sundown stood up. "They swiped me gun," heasserted.

  "Here's one I took off a herder," said Wingle. "if things get toboilin' over--why, jest nacherally wilt the legs from under anythingthat looks like a Chola. Jack's got the cards, all right--but I don'tjest like the look of things. Loring's in the corner and he's got hisback up."

  As they came from the house, Loring was reading the papers that Corlisshad handed to him. The old sheep-man glanced at the signatures on thedocuments and then slowly folded them, hesitated, and with a quick turnof his wrist tore them and flung the pieces in Corliss's face. "Thatfor your law! We stay!"

  Corliss bit his lip, and the dull red of restrained anger burned in hisface. He had gone too far to retreat or retract. He knew that his menwould lose all respect
for him if he backed down now. Yet he wasunable to frame a plan whereby he might avoid the arbitration of thesix-gun. His men eyed him curiously. Was Jack going to show a yellowstreak? They thought that he would not--and yet . . .

  Sundown raised his long arm and pointed. "There's the gent what kickedme cow," he said, his face white and his eyes burning.

  The punchers of the Concho laughed. "Jump him!" shouted "Bull"Cassidy. "We'll stand by and see that there's no monkeyin'."

  Corliss held up his hand. The Mexicans drew together and the age-oldhatred for the Gringo burned in their beady eyes.

  Sundown's thin lips drew tight. "I've a good mind to--" he began. TheMexican who had maltreated the cow mistook Sundown's gesture for intentto kill. The herder's gun whipped up. Sundown grabbed a chair thatstood tilted against the house and swung it. The Mexican went down.With the accidental explosion of the gun, Mebby-So grunted, put hishand to his side, and toppled from the saddle. Corliss wheeled hishorse.

  "Don't shoot, boys!" he shouted.

  His answer was a roar of six-guns. He felt Chinook shiver. He jumpedclear as the horse rolled to its side. Sundown, retreating to thehouse, flung open the bedroom window and kneeling, laid the barrel ofhis gun on the sill. Deliberately he sighted, hesitated, and flung thegun from him. "God Almighty--I ought to--but I can't!" He had seenCorliss fall and thought that he had been killed. He saw a Mexicanraise his gun to fire; saw him suddenly straighten in the saddle. Thenthe gun dropped from his hand, and he bent forward upon his horse,recovered, swayed a moment, and fell limply.

  Bud Shoop, on foot, ran around to the rear of the house. His horse laykicking, shot through the stomach. The foreman drew himself up undercover of the hen-house and fired into the huddle of Mexicans that sweptaround the yard as the riders of the Concho drove them back. He saw"Bull" Cassidy in the thick of it, swinging his guns and swearingheartily. Finally a Mexican pony, wounded and wild with fright, torethrough the barb-wire fence. Behind him spurred the herders. Out onthe mesa they turned and threw lead at the Concho riders, who retreatedto the cover of the house. Corliss caught up a herder's horse and rodearound to them. Shorty, one of his men, grinned, fell to coughing, andsank forward on his horse.

  "Loring's down," said Wingle, solemnly reloading his gun. "Think theygot enough, Jack?"

  "Loring, eh? Well, I know who got him. Yes, they got enough."

  Shorty, vomiting blood, wiped his lips on his sleeve. "Well, Iain't--not yet," he gasped. "_I'm_ goin' to finish in a blaze ofglory. Come on, boys!" And he whirled his horse. Swaying drunkenlyhe spurred around the corner of the house and through the gateway.

  Corliss glanced at Wingle. "We can't let him ride into 'em by hislonesome," said Wingle. "Eh, boys?"

  "Not on your fat life!" said Bull Cassidy. "I got one wing that'sworkin' and I'm goin' to fly her till she gits busted."

  "Let's clean 'em up! Might's well do a good job now we're at it.Where's Bud?"

  "He's layin' over there back of the chicken-roost. Reckon he'sthinkin' things over. He ain't sayin' much."

  "Bud down, too? Then I guess we ride!" And they swept out afterShorty. They saw the diminutive cowboy tear through the band ofherders, his gun going; saw his horse stumble and fall and a figurepitch from the saddle and roll to one side. "And if I'm goin'--I wantto go out that way," shouted Bull Cassidy. "Shorty was some sport!"

  But the Mexicans had had enough of it. They wheeled and spurred towardthe south. The Concho horses, worn out by the night-journey, were soondistanced.

  Corliss pulled up. "Catch up a fresh horse, Hi. And let Banks knowhow things stand. If Loring isn't all in, you might fetch the doctorback with you. We'll need him, anyway."

  "Sure! Wonder who that is fannin' it this way? Don't look like apuncher."

  Corliss turned and gazed down the road. From the south came littlepuffs of dust as a black-and-white pinto running at top speed swepttoward them. He paled as he recognized the horse.

  "It's Loring's girl," said Wingle, glancing at Corliss.

  Nell Loring reined up as she came opposite the Concho riders and turnedfrom the road. The men glanced at each other. Then ensued an awkwardsilence. The girl's face was white and her dark eyes burned withreproach as she saw the trampled sheep and here and there the figure ofa man prone on the mesa. Corliss raised his hat as she rode up. Shesat her horse gazing at the men. Without a word she turned and rodetoward the ranch-house. The Concho riders jingled along, in no hurryto face the scene which they knew awaited them at the water-hole.

  She was on her knees supporting her father's head when they dismountedand shuffled into the yard. The old sheep-man blinked and tried toraise himself. One of the Concho boys stepped forward and helped herget the wounded man to the house.

  Corliss strode to the bedroom and spoke to Sundown who turned and satup. "Get hit, Sun?"

  "No. But I'm feelin' kind of sick. Is the ole man dead?"

  "He's hurt, but not bad. We want the bed."

  Sundown got to his feet and sidled past the girl as she helped herfather to the bed.

  "I sent for the doctor," said Corliss.

  The girl whirled and faced him. "You!" she exclaimed--"You!"

  The rancher's shoulders straightened. "Yes--and it was my gun got him.You might as well know all there is to it." Then he turned and,followed by Sundown, stepped to the yard. "We'll keep busy while we'rewaiting. Any of you boys that feel like riding can round up the herd.Hi and I will look after--the rest of it."

  "And Bud," suggested a rider.

  They found Shoop on the ground, the flesh of his shoulder torn away bya .45 and a welt of red above his ear where a Mexican's bullet hadcreased him. They carried him to the house. "Sun, you might stiraround and rustle some grub. The boys will want to eat directly." AndCorliss stepped to the water-trough, washed his hands, and then rolleda cigarette. Hi Wingle sat beside him as they waited for dinner.Suddenly Corliss turned to his cook. "I guess we've won out, Hi," hesaid.

  "Generally speakin'--we sure have," said Wingle. "But I reckon _you_lost."

  Corliss nodded.