Paradise Bend

  CHAPTER XI

  ROCKET

  The two men reached Rocket before midnight and rode up to the door ofthe combination saloon and hotel. While Scotty hammered on the plankswith his fist, Loudon uttered stentorian yells. Rocket, male andfemale, awoke, poked their heads out of the windows and shrillydemanded information.

  "Hoss thief!" bawled Loudon. "He's ridin' a long-legged chestnut witha white spot on his nose! Fellah with him on a black horse! The sporton the black may or may not be dressed like a bird, accordin' towhether he's washed himself! Have yuh seen 'em?"

  Rocket with one voice assured Loudon that he was drunk, and advised thewatering-trough.

  "I ain't foolin'," expostulated Loudon. "The gent on the black cayuse,which his name is Block, Sheriff o' Fort Creek County, was tarred an'feathered in Paradise Bend this afternoon."

  Partisan Rocket cheered, and, in the same breath, grieved that neitherof the fugitives had been seen and clamoured to know details of thetarring and feathering. Rocket was in Sunset County, and it wasdelightful to hear that Fort Creek, in the person of its sheriff, hadbeen insulted.

  Loudon, sitting at ease on his weary, drooping-headed pony, told thetale. He carefully refrained, however, from mentioning his own leadingpart in the affair. Rocket received the story with howls of mirth.Later, the male portion stuffed its nightshirts into trousers, pulledon boots, and gathered three deep around Loudon and Scotty while thetwo devoured cold beef and beans in the dining room of the hotel.

  "Glad to see yo're feelin' better over yore hoss," observed Scotty,when the last Rocketer had departed.

  "Oh, I made 'em laugh," said Loudon, dismally. "But it didn't make mefeel like laughin' myself a little bit. I feel just as bad asever--worse if anythin'. Why, Scotty, that hoss could do everythin'but talk."

  "Shore," said Scotty, hastily, "but we can't do nothin' now. We'vedone all we could. They didn't come through Rocket, that's certain.They've done turned off some'ers. We can't trail 'em to-night, an' byto-morrow they'll be forty mile off. There's no use in keepin' it up."

  Scotty looked anxiously at Loudon. The latter made no reply. He wasstaring at the lamp on the table, his expression bitter in the extreme.

  "Tell yuh what," hazarded Scotty. "Yuh can have that bay yo're ridin'.He ain't like yore reg'lar hoss, but he's a good pony. Look at the wayhe went to-day. Got bottom, that hoss has. Go till the Gulf o' Mexicofreezes solid."

  "That's right good o' yuh, Scotty, but I couldn't take him off yuhthataway. I might buy him some day."

  "The offer goes as it lays. Yuh don't have to buy him. He's yoreswhenever yuh want him. Well, what are yuh figurin' on doin'?"

  "It's no use chasin' 'em any more now. I know that. Might as wellwander back where we come from. Later, two or three weeks maybe, I'mgoin' south."

  "Goin' south!" Scotty was aghast. He did not wish to lose his bestman.

  "Yep. Goin' south. Don't expect to find Cutting first off. But I'llfind Block, an' I guess he'll know somethin' about friend Cutting. I'dgo instanter, only I want to give Block time to get back an' getsettled before I pay him a call. I tell yuh, Scotty, I want that hosso' mine, an' I'll get him back if it takes me the rest o' my life!"

  "You gents want beds?" inquired the landlord, suddenly appearing in thedoorway.

  "Shore," replied Scotty. "Two of 'em."

  "Say, who's the postmaster here?" Loudon asked.

  "Me," was the landlord's weary reply.

  "A couple o' days ago," said Loudon, "a letter addressed to JohnDoubleday in Paradise Bend was mailed here. Remember who mailed it?"

  "Couldn't say, stranger," yawned the landlord. "Oh, shore," he added,as Loudon looked incredulous, "I could tell yuh everybody else whatmailed mail for the last month. But that one letter I couldn't. Ididn't see the man, woman, child, or Injun what mailed it. Three daysago when I got up in the mornin' an' went outside to wash my face Idone found that letter an' two bits a-layin' on the door-step. That'sall. Just a letter an' two bits. I clamps on a stamp an' sends heralong when the up-stage pulls in."

  "Any parties from the Bend in town that day, or the day before?"

  "Nary a party as I knows of--but then I ain't got eyes all over me.Some sport might 'a' slid through an' me not know it."

  "I ain't askin' questions just to make talk," said Loudon, sharply."So if yuh ain't got no real serious objections I'll ask a couple more."

  "No need to get het, stranger," soothed the landlord. "No need to gethet. Ask away."

  "Any strangers been in town lately?"

  "Two, to-day. They're the only strangers I've seen for quite a spell,an' they're upstairs now. Lady an' gent they are, travellin' separate.Goin' to the Bend, I reckon. Yest'day the off hind wheel o' the stagedished down at Lew's Gully, an' she come in on three wheels an' half acottonwood. Passengers had to stay over till Whisky Jim rustled him anew wheel. Whisky'll pull out in the mornin'."

  "Who's the gent?"

  "Drummer. Dunno his name."

  "Didn't Block--you know, Sheriff Block o' Fort Creek--didn't he stophere a day or two ago? He must 'a' come through Rocket."

  "Shore he did. But he ain't no stranger. I see him as many as two orthree times a year. Shore he come through Rocket. He had a drink hereday before yest'day. Goin' to the Bend, he said."

  "Well, if he stops on his way back tell him Tom Loudon was askin' forhim. Old friend o' mine, the sheriff is. Just tell him yuh know me,an' he'll set 'em up for the whole town."

  "I expect," grinned the landlord. "Was you wantin' beds, gents?"

  "That's us," grunted Scotty. "Me, I'm asleep from the neck down. Showme that bed, Mister."

  Loudon, sitting on the edge of his sway-backed cot, pulled off hisboots, dropped them clattering on the floor, and looked across atScotty Mackenzie.

  "Block didn't send that letter--or write it," he said, sliding his longbody under the blanket.

  "How do yuh know?" came in muffled tones from Scotty.

  "He ain't got the brains. No sir, some gent in Paradise Bend sent thatletter, an' I think I know his name."

  "Who is he?" Scotty was plainly striving to keep awake, and making apoor job of it.

  "I'll tell yuh after we get back to the Bend."

  Next morning, while the east was yet lemon and gray, the thunderousclamour of a beaten dish-pan reverberated through the hotel. Thehideous din ceased abruptly, and the voice of the landlord becameaudible.

  "Yuh half-witted idjit! Don't yuh know better'n to beat that pan whenthere's a lady in the house? Dish-pans is for common folks, an' don'tyuh forget it! Now you hump yoreself upstairs an' bang on her doorright gentle an' tell her the stage is due to pull out in a hour."

  "Must be a real lady," commented Loudon, when a door at the other endof the corridor had been duly rapped upon.

  "Must be," said Scotty in a singularly joyless tone. "Yuh couldn'thear what she said to the feller. Reg'lar female ladies always talk soyuh got to ask 'em to say it again, they carry fancy-coloured umbrellaswhen the sun shines, an' they pack their gold specs on the end of astick. They watch yuh eat, too. I know 'em. Yuh bet I do.

  "I met a pair of 'em once when they was visitin' at the Seven LazySeven. They made me so nervous a-lookin' at me that I cut the roof o'my mouth three times with my knife. Reg'lar ladies don't make me feelto home nohow. I'm goin' down now an' eat before this one scampers inan' spoils my appetite."

  So saying, Scotty almost ran from the room, buckling on hiscartridge-belt as he went.

  The drummer was at the table when the two Flying M men sat down. Animpressive person was the drummer. He was known in his own circle as a"perfectly elegant dresser." If the tightest of tight-fitting suits,the gaudiest of shirts, the highest of collars, an explosive cravat,two watch-chains, a bartender's curl, and a perpetual leer made forelegance, that drummer was elegant to a degree.

  The three had nearly finished breakfast when there came a tapping ofquick heels on the
stairs. Scotty Mackenzie groaned. The drummerhastily patted his curl and broadened his leer. Loudon raised his eyesand gasped audibly. His knife and fork rattled on the plate. For thewoman entering the room was Kate Saltoun.

  "Good morning, Tom," said Kate, brightly, quite as if she and he, thebest of friends, had parted the previous evening.

  The nonplussed Loudon mumbled unintelligibly, but accomplished apassable greeting by the time Kate had seated herself directlyopposite. The drummer glanced contemptuously at Loudon, and, with aflourish and a killing ogle, handed the bread to Kate. Miss Saltounhelped herself, nodded casual thanks, and bestowed a ravishing smile onLoudon.

  "I'm awfully glad to see you again, Tom," she declared, buttering herbread. "It's just like old times, isn't it?"

  Could this smiling young girl be Kate Saltoun? Was this the Kate thathad called him names and broken his heart and driven him from the LazyRiver? Loudon furtively pinched himself. The pinch hurt.

  It was not all a dream then. Kate Saltoun, in the flesh, and separatedfrom him by not more than four feet of scaly oilcloth, was actuallysmiling at him. Words failed Loudon. He could do nothing but gaze.

  Scotty, fearful of an introduction, oozed from the table. The drummer,unused to being ignored, fidgeted. He cleared his throat raucously.He would show this dumb person in chaps how a gentleman comportshimself in the presence of a lady. It was the drummer's first tripWest.

  "Beautiful day, Miss, beautiful," he smirked, tilting back in hischair, and rattling his watch-chains. "We should have a quick trip toParadise Bend. Our driver, I understand, has procured another wheel,and----"

  The full-voiced utterance died abruptly.

  For Kate had looked imploringly at Loudon, and Loudon had swung aboutto face the drummer. For the first time in his life the drummerrealized how cold, how utterly daunting, a pair of human eyes could be.

  "You through?" demanded Loudon.

  The drummer endured that disconcerting stare while a man might drawthree breaths. Then his eyelids quivered, dropped, and a curiousmottled pallor overspread his countenance. He glanced up, met againthat disconcerting stare, and quickly looked elsewhere.

  "You through?" repeated Loudon.

  "I--I don't know as that's any of your business," said the drummer,faintly.

  "Git out," ordered Loudon.

  "Why, look here! By what right----"

  "Git out." Loudon had not raised his voice.

  The drummer glanced at Miss Saltoun. She was crumbling her bread andlooking over his head with an air of intense boredom. So far as shewas concerned, he had ceased to exist. And she had been so friendlyand companionable on the long ride from Farewell.

  "You've done kept me waitin' some time," suggested Loudon, softly.

  Awkwardly, for he found his knees strangely weak, the drummer rose.With a lame attempt at jauntiness he pulled down his vest, shot hiscuffs, and teetered from the room. He made his way to the bar andcalled for whisky. His nerves were rather upset.

  "Jake's put yore stuff in the stage," announced the landlord, who wasalso the bartender.

  "Then Jake can take my bags out again," said the drummer, disagreeably."I'm staying over till to-morrow."

  "Well, hotel-keepers can't afford to be particular," the landlord said,unsmilingly. "But yuh'll have to unload yore truck yore own self."

  The drummer would have enjoyed cursing the landlord. But the latterhad the same peculiar look about the eyes that Loudon had. The drummerwent out into the street, thinking evil thoughts of these unamiableWesterners.

  Kate, when the drummer left the room, smiled sweetly upon Loudon. Itwas his reward for ridding her of a pest. She did not know thatLoudon's prime reason for squelching the drummer was practically thesame reason that impels the average man, on receiving an unpleasantsurprise, to throw things at the cat.

  "How's Johnny Ramsay gettin' along?" inquired Loudon.

  "He has completely recovered," Kate replied. "He went back to theCross-in-a-box four days ago."

  "That's good. I'm glad to hear it."

  Paying no further attention to Kate, Loudon calmly proceeded to finishhis breakfast. Kate began to find the silence painful.

  "Why, Tom," said she, "aren't you even a little bit glad to see me?"

  "Why should I be glad?" parried Loudon.

  "You're not very polite, Tom. You--you make me feel very badly. Why,oh, why do you persist in making it so hard for me?"

  Kate's voice was pitched low, and there was a running sob in it. ButLoudon was not in the least affected.

  "Last time I seen yuh," Loudon stated, deliberately, "yuh told me flatyuh never wanted to see me again. Yuh was engaged to Sam Blakely, too.I don't understand yuh a little bit."

  "Perhaps you will when I explain. You see, I am no longer engaged toMr. Blakely."

  "Yo're lucky."

  "I think so myself. Under the circumstances, can't we be friendsagain? I didn't mean what I said, boy. Truly I didn't."

  Loudon was looking at Kate, but he did not see her as she sat there inher chair, her black eyes imploring. Instead, he saw her as sheappeared that day in the kitchen of the Bar S, when she wiped his kissfrom her mouth and ordered him to leave her.

  "Yo're too many for me," he said at last. "I dunno what yo're drivin'at. But if yuh want to be friends, why, I'm the last fellah in theworld to be yore enemy. Yuh know I never have exactly disliked yuh,Kate. Well, I got to be weavin' along. Glad to have seen yuh, Kate.I'll see yuh later, maybe."

  "Of course you will, Tom. I'll be at Lil's--Mrs. Mace, you know, atthe Bend. You will come and see me, won't you?"

  "Shore I will, an' glad to."

  Loudon dropped the lady's hand as if it had been a hot iron, anddeparted. He had no intention of going near the house of Mrs. Mace.He never wanted to see Kate Saltoun again.

  In the street he found Scotty nervously awaiting him.

  "Git yore hoss," said Scotty, "an' let's git out o' here."

  "What's all the hurry?" queried Loudon.

  "That female girl in the hotel. She'll be out in a minute, an' thenyuh'll have to introduce me."

  "She's Kate Saltoun, Scotty."

  "Old Salt's daughter! It don't sound possible. An' him with a facelike a grizzly. She's shorely four aces, Tom, an' as pretty as alittle red wagon. But I ain't aimin' to make her acquaintance, an' yuhcan gamble on that."

  Happily for Scotty's peace of mind he and Loudon left Rocket twentyminutes ahead of the stage.

  The drummer watched the departure of the stage with brooding eyes.When the dust in the street had settled he had another drink at the barand ensconced himself in a corner of the barroom where he could glowerunobserved at the landlord.

  The latter had gone to the corral, but the drummer was still sitting inhis chair, when, toward noon, two men entered. They wereunprepossessing individuals, both of them, though one, the tall manwith the black beard, had obviously just washed himself thoroughly.Even his clothing had been scrubbed.

  The drummer sniffed inquiringly. What was that elusive odour--thatstrange smell or rather mixture of smells? The drummer sniffed again.

  "Got a cold?" growled the black-bearded man.

  "No," said the drummer, sulkily.

  "Then don't snuffle. I don't like snufflin', I don't. It makes mejumpy, snufflin' does. Breathe through yore mouth if yuh got to."

  The look which the black-avised individual bent upon the drummer wasnot reassuring. The wretched drummer shrank into himself and took careto breathe in an inoffensive manner. The black-bearded man wasextremely sensitive about that odour, for it emanated from his ownperson and habiliments. Tobacco smoke had no effect upon it. It clungafter the fashion of loving relations. Strong soap, scorched molasses,and singed feathers, had given birth to that odour. No wonder he wassensitive!

  His companion, whose face bore numerous scratches, stared round thebarroom.

  "Where's the barkeep?" he grunted.

  "Don't
need no barkeep," announced the black-bearded man, and startedto walk round the bar.

  "Don't yuh?" inquired the voice of the landlord. "Yuh got anotherguess comin'. Yuh can't run no blazers in this shack, Block, an' thatgoes."

  The eyes of the black-bearded man glowed evilly. He stopped in histracks, his raised hand halted in the act of reaching for a bottle. Hestared at the landlord standing in the doorway. The landlord staredback, his thumbs hooked in his belt.

  "Get us a drink then," snarled Block, and he joined his friend in frontof the bar.

  "That's what I'm here for," rejoined the landlord, cheerfully. "Idon't care who I serve. Why, I give that a drink awhile ago." Heflicked a contemptuous thumb at the drummer.

  "Hurry up!" admonished Block.

  "No hurry," chirruped the landlord insultingly. "I never was in ahurry, an' I ain't goin' to begin now. What'll yuh have--milk?"

  "Say," exclaimed the man with the scratched face, "are you lookin' fortrouble?"

  "Stranger," replied the landlord, turning a pair of calm brown eyes onhis questioner--"stranger, a gent don't never look for trouble. Itcomes to him unexpected-like. But none ain't comin' to me to-day.Soon as I seen you two tinhorns in here I told a friend o' mine. He'sa-watchin' yuh from the window right now."

  Block and his friend involuntarily turned their heads. Framed in theopen window were the head and shoulders of a man. In his hands was asawed-off shotgun. The blunt muzzle gaped ominously at them.

  "Well, by Gawd!" began the scratch-faced man.

  "Shut up!" said Block. "These folks seem scared of us. No usefussin'. We'll just licker an' git."

  "Them's the words I like to hear," observed the landlord, slappingbottle and glasses on the bar. "Yuh can't pull out too quick to suitme, Block. I know about yore goin's-on down in Farewell--rubbin' outharmless strangers. Yuh may be a sheriff an' all that, but yore officedon't travel a foot in Sunset County."

  "Yuh talk big," growled Block. "Yuh needn't think yuh can bluff me.If I feel like takin' this town apart, I'll do it."

  "Shore, just like yuh took the Bend apart. Got the molasses out o'yore system yet?"

  Block's eyes were fairly murderous. The landlord grinned.

  "That shotgun's double-barrelled," he observed. "Buckshot in eachbarrel."

  Block gulped his whisky. The scratch-faced man had finished his drinkand was placidly rolling a cigarette.

  "Never did like to quarrel," he remarked, "special not with a shotgun.Mister"--to the landlord--"have any gents from the Bend rode into-day--or yesterday?"

  "Lookin' for friends?" queried the landlord.

  "Shore!"

  "I thought so. Well, I can't tell yuh. Yuh see, I ain't right wellacquainted hereabouts. I dunno everybody. There might somebody 'a'come through, an' then again there mightn't. I seed a Injun yest'day,though. Looked like a Digger. Might he be yore partic'lar friend?"An exquisite solicitude was in the landlord's tone.

  The other refused to take offence. He smiled wryly. When he spoke,his words were without rancour.

  "I can't claim the Injun. I was thinkin' of a sport named Loudon.Know him?"

  "I told yuh I didn't know many people round here."

  "I was just a-wonderin'. I was kind o' anxious to see Loudon."

  "Well, I dunno nothin' about him."

  "There was a man here named Loudon," piped up the drummer, perceivingan opportunity of annoying the landlord. "He stayed here all night.Another man was with him, a very dirty old character named Mackenzie.I think Scotty was his first name."

  "Which way did they go?" demanded Block.

  "They rode away toward Paradise Bend."

  "That drummer can lie faster'n a hoss can trot," drawled the landlord.

  "You know they stayed here all night," said the drummer with a flash ofspirit. "I had breakfast with them."

  The landlord walked swiftly to the drummer, who quailed.

  "Yo're lyin'!" announced the landlord. "Say so. Say yo're lyin', yuhpup, or I'll pull yore neck in half."

  "I'm lyin'!" cried the drummer, hastily. "I'm lyin'."

  "There wasn't nobody here but you, was there?" inquired the landlord.

  "N-no."

  "I guess that's enough. You see how reliable this sport is, gents.Can't believe a word he says."

  Block turned toward the door. The scratch-faced man winked at his ownreflection in the mirror behind the bar and stuck his tongue in hischeek.

  "C'mon," said Block.

  The sheriff and his friend went out into the street. The landlordfollowed, his expression one of pleasurable anticipation. Fourcitizens of Rocket, grouped on the sidewalk, glumly watched the two menas they swung into their saddles and loped away. The landlord's facefell.

  "Say," he demanded, "why didn't yuh arrest him?"

  "Couldn't be did," replied the largest of the quartette, who wore amarshal's star on his vest. "Loudon said his hoss was a chestnut,white spot on nose, didn't he? One o' them two cayuses was a black,but the other was a bald-face pinto. Nothin' like a chestnut."

  "But Loudon done said the hoss thief was ridin' with Sheriff Block."

  "That's all true enough, an' the party a-ridin' off with Block may be ahoss thief, but if he is, he ain't ridin' Loudon's hoss. An' Loudon'shoss is the only one we know about. Got to go by the hoss, Dave."

  "Why, looky here, Sim, Loudon described the feller right plain. That'sRufe Cutting a-ridin' away there with Block, or I'm a Dutchman."

  "He may be," returned the marshal, equably, "an' if Loudon was here an'could identify him I'd grab him too quick. But unless he's ridin' achestnut hoss with a white spot on his nose I can't arrest him withouta warrant. An' there ain't no warrant. See how it is, Dave?"

  "Oh, I see all right," mourned the landlord, "an' it makes me sick.Soon as I seen 'em come in my place I says to myself, 'Here's that hossthief.' All I thought of was that Loudon said the sport was withBlock. It makes me sick. It shore does. After me a-cookin' it all upwith you to arrest him! C'mon in an' have somethin', an' watch me givethat drummer the prettiest lickin' he ever had in his life."