CHAPTER III
SILENT SHOOTS
It was a great day and also a sad one for Morgan. His general storeand saloon had been bought out by old Joe Cumberland, who declareda determination to clear up the landscape, and thereby plunged thecowpunchers in gloom. They partially forgave Cumberland, but onlybecause he was an old man. A younger reformer would have met armedresistance. Morgan's place was miles away from the next oasis in thedesert and the closing meant dusty, thirsty leagues of added journeyto every man in the neighbourhood. The word "neighbourhood," ofcourse, covered a territory fifty miles square.
If the day was very sad for this important reason, it was also veryglad, for rustling Morgan advertised the day of closing far and wide,and his most casual patrons dropped all business to attend the bigdoings. A long line of buckboards and cattle ponies surrounded theplace. Newcomers gallopped in every few moments. Most of them did notstop to tether their mounts, but simply dropped the reins over theheads of the horses and then went with rattling spurs and slouchingsteps into the saloon. Every man was greeted by a shout, for one ortwo of those within usually knew him, and when they raised a crythe others joined in for the sake of good fellowship. As a rule heresponded by ordering everyone up to the bar.
One man, however, received no more greeting than the slamming of thedoor behind him. He was a tall, handsome fellow with tawny hair and alittle smile of habit rather than mirth upon his lips. He had riddenup on a strong bay horse, a full two hands taller than the averagecattle pony, and with legs and shoulders and straight back thatunmistakably told of a blooded pedigree. When he entered the saloonhe seemed nowise abashed by the silence, but greeted the turned headswith a wave of the hand and a good-natured "Howdy, boys!" A volley ofgreetings replied to him, for in the mountain-desert men cannot bestrangers after the first word.
"Line up and hit the red-eye," he went on, and leaning against thebar as he spoke, his habitual smile broadened into one of actualinvitation. Except for a few groups who watched the gambling in thecorners of the big room, there was a general movement towards the bar.
"And make it a tall one, boys," went on the genial stranger. "This isthe first time I ever irrigated Morgan's place, and from what I haveheard today about the closing I suppose it will be the last time. Sohere's to you, Morgan!"
And he waved his glass towards the bartender. His voice was wellmodulated and his enunciation bespoke education. This, in connectionwith his careful clothes and rather modish riding-boots, might havegiven him the reputation of a dude, had it not been for several otheressential details of his appearance. His six-gun hung so low that hewould scarcely have to raise his hand to grasp the butt. He held hiswhisky glass in his left hand, and the right, which rested carelesslyon his hip, was deeply sunburned, as if he rarely wore a glove.Moreover, his eyes were marvellously direct, and they lingered anegligible space as they touched on each man in the room. All of thisthe cattlemen noted instantly. What they did not see on account of hisveiling fingers was that he poured only a few drops of the liquor intohis glass.
In the meantime another man who had never before "irrigated" atMorgan's place, rode up. His mount, like that of the tawny-hairedrider, was considerably larger and more finely built than the commonrange horse. In three days of hard work a cattle pony might wear downthese blooded animals, but would find it impossible to either overtakeor escape them in a straight run. The second stranger, short-legged,barrel-chested, and with a scrub of black beard, entered the barroomwhile the crowd was still drinking the health of Morgan. He took acorner chair, pushed back his hat until a mop of hair fell down hisforehead, and began to roll a cigarette. The man of the tawny hairtook the next seat.
"Seems to be quite a party, stranger," said the tall fellownonchalantly.
"Sure," growled he of the black beard, and after a moment he added:"Been out on the trail long, pardner?"
"Hardly started."
"So'm I."
"As a matter of fact, I've got a lot of hard riding before me."
"So've I."
"And some long riding, too."
Perhaps it was because he turned his head suddenly towards the light,but a glint seemed to come in the eyes of the bearded man.
"Long rides," he said more amiably, "are sure hell on hosses."
"And on men, too," nodded the other, and tilted back in his chair.
The bearded man spoke again, but though a dozen cowpunchers were closeby no one heard his voice except the man at his side. One side of hisface remained perfectly immobile and his eyes stared straight beforehim drearily while he whispered from a corner of his mouth: "How longdo you stay, Lee?"
"Noon," said Lee.
Once more the shorter man spoke in the manner which is learned in apenitentiary: "Me too. We must be slated for the same ride, Lee. Doyou know what it is? It's nearly noon, and the chief ought to behere."
There was a loud greeting for a newcomer, and Lee took advantage ofthe noise to say quite openly: "If Silent said he'll come, he'll behere. But I say he's crazy to come to a place full of range riders,Bill."
"Take it easy," responded Bill. "This hangout is away off our regularbeat. Nobody'll know him."
"His hide is his own and he can do what he wants with it," said Lee."I warned him before."
"Shut up," murmured Bill, "Here's Jim now, and Hal Purvis with him!"
Through the door strode a great figure before whom the throng at thebar gave way as water rolls back from the tall prow of a ship. In hiswake went a little man with a face dried and withered by the sun andsmall bright eyes which moved continually from side to side. Lee andBill discovered their thirst at the same time and made towards thenewcomers.
They had no difficulty in reaching them. The large man stood with hisback to the bar, his elbows spread out on it, so that there was alittle space left on either side of him. No one cared to press tooclose to this sombre-faced giant. Purvis stood before him and Bill andLee were instantly at his side. The two leaned on the bar, facing him,yet the four did not seem to make a group set apart from the rest.
"Well?" asked Lee.
"I'll tell you what it is when we're on the road," said Jim Silent."Plenty of time, Haines."
"Who'll start first?" asked Bill.
"You can, Kilduff," said the other. "Go straight north, and go slow.Then Haines will follow you. Purvis next. I come last because I gothere last. There ain't any hurry--What's this here?"
"I tell you I seen it!" called an angry voice from a corner.
"You must of been drunk an' seein' double, partner," drawled theanswer.
"Look here!" said the first man, "I'm willin' to take that any way youmean it!"
"An' I'm willin'," said the other, "that you should take it any wayyou damn please."
Everyone in the room was grave except Jim Silent and his threecompanions, who were smiling grimly.
"By God, Jack," said the first man with ominous softness, "I'll take alot from you but when it comes to doubtin' my word----"
Morgan, with popping eyes and a very red face, slapped his hand onthe bar and vaulted over it with more agility than his plumpnesswarranted. He shouldered his way hurriedly through the crowd to therapidly widening circle around the two disputants. They stood withtheir right hands resting with rigid fingers low down on their hips,and their eyes, fixed on each other, forgot the rest of the world.Morgan burst in between them.
"Look here," he thundered, "it's only by way of a favour that I'mlettin' you boys wear shootin' irons today because I promised oldCumberland there wouldn't be no fuss. If you got troubles there'senough room for you to settle them out in the hills, but there ain'tnone at all in here!"
The gleam went out of their eyes like four candles snuffed by thewind. Obviously they were both glad to have the tension broken. Mikewiped his forehead with a rather unsteady hand.
"I ain't huntin' for no special brand of trouble," he said, "but Jackhas been ridin' the red-eye pretty hard and it's gotten into thatdried up bean he calls his brain."
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bsp; "Say, partner," drawled Jack, "I ain't drunk enough of the hot stuffto make me fall for the line you've been handing out."
He turned to Morgan.
"Mike, here, has been tryin' to make me believe that he knew a fellerwho could drill a dollar at twenty yards every time it was tossed up."
The crowd laughed, Morgan loudest of all.
"Did you anyways have Whistlin' Dan in mind?" he asked.
"No, I didn't," said Mike, "an' I didn't say this here man I wastalkin' about could drill them every time. But he could do it twotimes out of four."
"Mike," said Morgan, and he softened his disbelief with his smile andthe good-natured clap on the shoulder, "you sure must of been drinkin'when you seen him do it. I allow Whistlin' Dan could do that an' more,but he ain't human with a gun."
"How d'you know?" asked Jack, "I ain't ever seen him packin' asix-gun."
"Sure you ain't," answered Morgan, "but I have, an' I seen him use it,too. It was jest sort of by chance I saw it."
"Well," argued Mike anxiously, "then you allow it's possible ifWhistlin' Dan can do it. An' I say I seen a chap who could turn thetrick."
"An' who in hell is this Whistlin' Dan?" asked Jim Silent.
"He's the man that caught Satan, an' rode him," answered a bystander.
"Some man if he can ride the devil," laughed Lee Haines.
"I mean the black mustang that ran wild around here for a couple ofyears. Some people tell tales about him being a wonder with a gun. ButMorgan's the only one who claims to have seen him work."
"Maybe you did see it, and maybe you didn't," Morgan was saying toMike noncommittally, "but there's some pretty fair shots in thisroom, which I'd lay fifty bucks no man here could hit a dollar with asix-gun at twenty paces."
"While they're arguin'," said Bill Kilduff, "I reckon I'll hit thetrail."
"Wait a minute," grinned Jim Silent, "an' watch me have some fun withthese short-horns."
He spoke more loudly: "Are you makin' that bet for the sake ofarguin', partner, or do you calculate to back it up with cold cash?"
Morgan whirled upon him with a scowl, "I ain't pulled a bluff in mylife that I can't back up!" he said sharply.
"Well," said Silent, "I ain't so flush that I'd turn down fifty buckswhen a kind Christian soul, as the preachers say, slides it into myglove. Not me. Lead out the dollar, pal, an' kiss it farewell!"
"Who'll hold the stakes?" asked Morgan.
"Let your friend Mike," said Jim Silent carelessly, and he placedfifty dollars in gold in the hands of the Irishman. Morgan followedsuit. The crowd hurried outdoors.
A dozen bets were laid in as many seconds. Most of the men wished toplace their money on the side of Morgan, but there were not a few whostood willing to risk coin on Jim Silent, stranger though he was.Something in his unflinching eye, his stern face, and the nervelesssurety of his movements commanded their trust.
"How do you stand, Jim?" asked Lee Haines anxiously. "Is it a safebet? I've never seen you try a mark like this one!"
"It ain't safe," said Silent, "because I ain't mad enough to shoot mybest, but it's about an even draw. Take your pick."
"Not me," said Haines, "if you had ten chances instead of one I mightstack some coin on you. If the dollar were stationary I know you coulddo it, but a moving coin looks pretty small."
"Here you are," called Morgan, who stood at a distance of twentypaces, "are you ready?"
Silent whipped out his revolver and poised it. "Let 'er go!"
The coin whirled in the air. Silent fired as it commenced to fall--itlanded untouched.
"As a kind, Christian soul," said Morgan sarcastically, "I ain't inyour class, stranger. Charity always sort of interests me when I'm onthe receivin' end!"
The crowd chuckled, and the sound infuriated Silent.
"Don't go back jest yet, partners," he drawled. "Mister Morgan, I gotone hundred bones which holler that I can plug that dollar the secondtry."
"Boys," grinned Morgan, "I'm leavin' you to witness that I hate to doit, but business is business. Here you are!"
The coin whirled again. Silent, with his lips pressed into a straightline and his brows drawn dark over his eyes, waited until the coinreached the height of its rise, and then fired--missed--fired again,and sent the coin spinning through the air in a flashing semicircle.It was a beautiful piece of gun-play. In the midst of the clamour ofapplause Silent strode towards Morgan with his hand outstretched.
"After all," he said. "I knowed you wasn't really hard of heart. Itonly needed a little time and persuasion to make you dig for coin whenI pass the box."
Morgan, red of face and scowling, handed over his late winnings andhis own stakes.
"It took you two shots to do it," he said, "an' if I wanted to arguethe pint maybe you wouldn't walk off with the coin."
"Partner," said Jim Silent gently, "I got a wanderin' hunch thatyou're showin' a pile of brains by not arguin' this here pint!"
There followed that little hush of expectancy which precedes trouble,but Morgan, after a glance at the set lips of his opponent, swallowedhis wrath.
"I s'pose you'll tell how you did this to your kids whenyou're eighty," he said scornfully, "but around here, stranger, theydon't think much of it. Whistlin' Dan"--he paused, as if to calculatehow far he could safely exaggerate--"Whistlin' Dan can stand withhis back to the coins an' when they're thrown he drills four dollarseasier than you did one--an' he wouldn't waste three shots on onedollar. He ain't so extravagant!"