The Long Dim Trail

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  In spite of the general impression of frontier lawlessness thatprevailed during the 'eighties', Arizona had probably as clean a moralstandard as many of the Eastern States which considered themselves farin advance of the unsettled country. Though men 'packed' guns, andpersonal affronts were settled out of Court, Arizona could brag that anygood woman was protected by every man in the Territory.

  So, when the Southern Pacific train was held up west of Willcox, thecommunity was as much surprised and shocked as any more conventionaltown might be. Seventy thousand dollars were taken from the express carby the robbers, and no definite clue to their identity or whereaboutscould be discovered.

  The railroad people, believing the first success would encourage others,secretly armed all express messengers with sawed-off shotguns, heavilyloaded with buckshot, the most deadly weapon known for short-range work.

  These precautions were justified six months later, when the regularwest-bound train was nearing Cochise, a little place twelve miles westof Willcox. The engineer, observing a danger signal, slowed down andfinally stopped. As the track was treacherous at that point during rainyweather, he had no suspicions. Frequent washouts occurred in the sandyroadbed. The track-walker approached, swinging his lighted lantern.

  "What's the trouble?" asked the engineer, as he and the fireman leanedover the side of the engine, staring through the darkness.

  "Track's soft. You'll have to go slow for about a quarter of a mile,"was the reply. "They wired to Willcox from Cochise but you had left ontime. Hold on a minute and I'll ride back with you."

  "All right," answered the engineer, then as the man swung on the cab,"You're a new man?"

  "Yes. Just went to work this week. I was on the Santa Fe before I camedown here," he drew a pipe from his pocket, filled and lighted it as theengineer turned to start the engine.

  The fireman had returned to the rear of the cab and set to workshovelling coal.

  "Hands up!"

  Two armed, masked men confronted the engineer and the fireman facedthree others. There was no alternative except to obey. The train wasmade up of an engine, express car, three Pullmans and two day coaches;the express, as usual, being directly back of the engine and coal car.Three of the bandits guarded the fireman and engineer, the other tworunning back a short distance. As the brakeman approached to ascertainthe trouble, he was met and commanded to uncouple the express car andengine from the rest of the train. Then, having complied under protest,he was compelled to join the other two men who were under guard.

  "Pull ahead till we tell you to stop," was the order, and the enginepuffed on its way, leaving the passengers and conductors to discovertheir predicament later.

  Four miles from Cochise, in a spot where there was no human habitation,the engineer was forced to halt. Three robbers remained on guard whilethe other two went to the express car and knocked sharply on the door.

  "What is it?" the messenger demanded.

  "Open the door!"

  There was no reply.

  "Open the door, and we won't hurt you;" called the robber a secondtime.

  Again there was absolute silence.

  "We'll give you one minute to open that door, or we'll blow you and thecar to Hell!"

  The man inside the car knew there was nothing to be gained by delay.

  "All right," he called. "I'll open it, boys."

  There was slipping of bolts and creaking of wood. The door opened slowlyabout two inches. Three-fingered Jack standing close to it, jumpedbackward and thrust the barrel of his pistol through the aperture. Aflash, a scream of agony, and the door closed with a bang. The messengerstood with blood streaming from his right arm, the sawed-off shot gunsmoking at his feet; but as he slipped unconscious to the floor, he knewone of the robbers was badly hurt.

  Outside, the men surrounded Three-fingered Jack, who had torn the redhandkerchief from his face. Blood poured from a gaping wound in hisside. His comrades eased him to the ground, then turned their attentionto the express car. This time it would be short work--dynamite.

  "Hurry!" urged the leader.

  They moved to obey; but stopped with oaths. Down the track from Cochiseshone the headlight of an engine. They knew there was no other passengertrain due either way at that hour; but they could not count on freightsor specials. The railroad officials had given instructions that eachtrain-despatcher keep close watch on the time between stations, and ifany train were late to wire at once to the last station; then, unlesssatisfied, rush out an extra engine, or pusher, with armed men.

  These men, seeing the headlight of the stalled engine, were ready foraction as the 'pusher' raced forward at full speed. The robbers,realizing that flight was imperative, ran to the horses they had lefttied in the brush, only pausing long enough to seize their woundedcomrade. They boosted him roughly to a pony, leading it by the reinswhile Jack clung moaning to the horn of the saddle. Each movement wasexcruciating agony, as they rode madly through the mesquite brush in thedarkness.

  The rescue party found the unconscious messenger, and the kidnappedengine and express car were backed to the rest of the train, while thepusher raced to Cochise for a posse and horses to trail the robbers.

  It did not take very long to load armed men and saddled ponies into anempty box-car at Cochise, and in record-breaking time the little specialagain reached the hold-up. While they were unloading their ponies, thebelated passenger train, carrying its excited passengers, its untouchedexpress car and the wounded man, rattled past the posse. The engineerleaned from his cab, waved a grimy hand and sounded a long-drawnwhistle. Out in the darkness, the fleeing outlaws heard and knew what itmeant. Their progress had been impeded by the condition of Jack, andeach movement of his pony brought groans and curses.

  The leader halted.

  "It's him, or all of us," he said, and the rest agreed.

  "We're sorry. Jack, but it can't be helped. We've got to leave youbehind."

  The wounded man cursed them for cowards and traitors; but fell limp asthey helped him to the ground and made him as comfortable as possible.Then they rode away, carrying his pistol with them, for they would needit worse than Jack. His curses followed them.

  The darkness made it impossible for the posse to strike the trail untildawn, but no time was lost after that. Whether the robbers had somedefinite plan, or had become too demoralized at their surprise, puzzledthe trailers; for the riders had kept together instead of scattering inorder to make pursuit more difficult. The work of following was madeeasy by the softened condition of the country from recent rain, andoccasionally a splatter of blood on a stone proved that the messengerwas justified in his assertion that he had wounded one of the outlaws.

  Five miles from the railroad track they found Three-fingered Jack atthe point of death. He lay gasping, and watched them approach until theystood looking down on him. A sardonic smile twisted his features. Hewould have his revenge on the men who had deserted him. With curses andvituperation he told the names of those who had fled to savethemselves--then added names of others in the band. Several namesmentioned were not unexpected, as they were men known to be ready forany crime; but no one was prepared to hear him accuse Jim Glendon andAlpaugh, who was the constable of Willcox and Deputy Sheriff of CochiseCounty.

  Tom Graham, the constable of Cochise and leader of the posse, leaneddown and said, "What was that? Did you say Alpaugh and Glendon?"

  Jack saw the incredulity on the faces above him. Quietly, but withrasping voice, he replied, "I said Glendon and Alpaugh. I'm making thisstatement before I die, and I want you all to witness what I say. Theydidn't play square with me;--they even took my pistol so I couldn'tshoot myself. Glen and Alpaugh were staying home to prove an alibi--Wewere to go to Glendon's after the job was done--give the money--tohim--till row was over." His eyes closed. The men thought he was dead,but he gathered his ebbing strength once more. "We were toshare--and--quit the country--" Blood choked his utterance; his headsank back and the jaws relaxed.
br />   The group looked at him, then glanced at each other dubiously. Theaccusation against Alpaugh astonished them. He was acknowledged a goodofficer, sober, fearless and apparently worthy of the confidence thecommunity placed in him while Glendon, though known to drink heavily andbe aggressive in his cups, had never been considered criminal in histendencies. But, Jack's statement, made in full consciousness that hewas dying, and with apparently clear mind, was damning evidence.

  Slowly the posse returned to the track, carrying the dead man across asaddle-horse, while the original rider sat behind, balancing the limpform. When they reached the railroad the body was placed on the floor ofthe caboose and the engine started to Willcox.

  Rumours of the hold-up drew a curious crowd to the depot and questionswere asked eagerly; but no information was vouchsafed for fear ofalarming those implicated.

  Limber was crossing the street of Willcox when Graham saw him, andtaking him aside, said, "I want to swear you in as deputy, Limber, andmay need you several days. I want men who can hold their tongues and berelied upon. We're up against a well-organized bunch."

  The cowboy listened to Graham's concise statement of the hold-up andThree-fingered Jack's death; but was not told of the accusationregarding Alpaugh and Glendon.

  "I'm ready any time you want me," was Limber's assertion.

  "Might as well come with me now."

  "Which way you goin' first?"

  "Alpaugh's house."

  Believing that the constable of Cochise intended to co-operate withAlpaugh, the Willcox constable, Limber strode beside big Tom Graham,though neither of them again spoke. When they reached the neat littlecottage where Alpaugh and his wife resided, the constable was sitting onthe porch smoking, and came down the steps to meet them.

  "Hear you had a lively time out your way last night, Tom," he commented."I was ready to go out and join the chase but as it was in your sectionand you did not wire for help, supposed you did not need me. Catch yourmen?"

  "One of 'em. The others had a good start; but a strong posse with relayhorses is trailing them. Three-fingered Jack is dead." Graham watchedthe effect of his information.

  Alpaugh started, but recovered himself. "Dead? Was he one of them? Well,you know he's always had a fishy reputation."

  "He was wounded by the express messenger. Lived long enough to make afull confession."

  "Who?" asked Alpaugh, trying to appear unconcerned.

  "Hold up your hands, Dick. Don't make trouble. I've got to arrest you."

  Limber controlled his amazement, and in obedience to a nod from Graham,removed the pistol from Alpaugh's hip pocket. Then Graham told hisprisoner he might put down his hands.

  The constable laughed in amusement. "Well, I might get mad if it wasn'tall so darned foolish. I can't figure out whether you are off yourcabeza, Tom, or if it was Three-fingered Jack trying to get back at mebecause I arrested him once." His voice dropped and his face grewserious. "I don't want my wife to know this. It's all a big mistake andyou'll find it out later on; but I don't want her to worry. You've gotto do your duty, Tom, so I haven't any hard feelings against you orLimber. I'd like to make an excuse to Jennie about going away, if youdon't mind."

  "All right. Don't stir up trouble, Dick; that's all," warned Graham.

  "It's too silly to make any row over," Alpaugh answered with opencontempt as he walked to the hall door and called to his wife, "I've gotto go out of town at once, Jennie. Graham wants me. There's been ahold-up near Cochise. Don't get worried if I'm gone several days. Iwon't need any war-bag. Be back as soon as I can make it."

  Mrs. Alpaugh was a plump, quick body, with brown eyes, brown skin,smooth brown hair and alert way of cocking her head on one side, muchlike an impudent sparrow. She came on the porch and smiled at them.

  "I might as well be an old maid," she pouted. "Dick is away nearly allthe time, lately."

  "Good-bye, Jennie," interrupted her husband, fearing she mightinnocently complicate matters.

  "Don't let the train-robbers catch you all," she laughed as they headedacross the street, where Alpaugh was taken to a room in the hotel, to beheld in custody until the Sheriff from Tombstone, the County seat,should arrive.

  Limber and Graham walked together from the hotel. "Got to get ourhorses," said the officer.

  At the Cowboy's Rest they were joined by other men who were waiting.Limber flung the saddle on Peanut, adjusted the headstall of the bridleand mounted.

  Out on the street Graham rode up to him, and Limber's eyes met his. "Whoelse, Tom?"

  "Glendon," was the reply.

  The cowboy twisted quickly in his saddle, his face filled withconsternation. "How did he get in?"

  "Don't ask me," was the moody answer. "Three-fingered Jack made a dyingstatement and accused them both; so I've got to arrest him. 'Tain't apleasant job when you've known the men for years and have slept withthem, shared chuck and worked together. It's bad enough mess when thereain't any women, but Alpaugh and Glendon have decent wives. Whatbusiness has a man with a family getting into such a mess, anyhow?" hegrowled, voicing the thoughts of the man who rode beside him.

  Limber wished heartily that Powell were home at the Springs, now. Inimagination he pictured Glendon's wife alone at the Circle Cross withonly Juan and the dog to sympathize with her in this new trial; heregretted that Graham had selected him as one of the posse, but it couldnot be helped now.

  It was a very quiet quartette which rode up to the gate of the CircleCross. Glendon came down the front walk.

  "Hello, boys! Off on a hunting trip?" he asked affably. "Get down andhave a drink."

  "We're after you, Jim," said Graham bluntly. "Three-fingered Jack spliton the gang."

  Glendon started in surprise. "What the Dickens are you talking about.What have I to do with Three-fingered Jack? You must be joking!" Heregarded them so frankly that they wondered uncomfortably whether thedead man had told the tale in spite, as Glendon hastened to suggest.

  "I had trouble with Jack over two months ago, and I suppose this is hisway of getting even with me."

  "He said you were with them on the first hold-up, and that they were tobring the loot to you this time for you to take care of for them. Iguess it's up to you to go quietly, Jim. We don't go much on what hesaid, but we can't help ourselves."

  "It's a fine proposition when a man stays home and minds his ownbusiness, then finds he's accused of being mixed in a thing like this,"Glendon spoke indignantly. "I bet Three-fingered Jack won't repeat thatstory to my face."

  "No he won't, Jim;" returned Graham quietly. "He's dead. He made hisstatement when he knew he was dying, and called the posse to witnesswhat he said. He shot the express messenger;--got a load of buckshothimself."

  Glendon shrugged his shoulders impatiently. "Oh, well, I suppose I'vegot to go, but you're on the wrong trail this time, boys. I haven't beenaway from home for over a month, as my wife can tell you."

  He turned toward the house as though to call for corroboration.

  "No use dragging Mrs. Glendon into it," said Limber, quickly. "I guessyou can get other witnesses outside of her, if you need 'em Jim. Itain't the sort of thing for any woman to be mixed up in, and we don'twant to make it harder for her than we have to."

  The others nodded approvingly; but Glendon's eyes narrowed and he facedLimber in sudden fury.

  "Look here, Limber, you're an old friend, but don't presume too far. I'mnot as big a fool as you think I am. You mind your own business, damnyou! What's my wife to you anyhow? You and Powell have butted in a goodbit in my family affairs!"

  Limber's face was white; his right hand flashed to his pistol, thenfell away. His eyes stared in dumb misery toward the house. The othermen saw Katherine Glendon standing in the doorway. Every head was baredinstantly. She understood that something was wrong, and an expression ofdread darkened her eyes as she moved to her husband's side.

  "What is it, Jim?" she asked.

  Glendon kicked the gravel but no one answered. Then as her eyes movedfrom fac
e to face, she recognized Limber.

  "What is wrong, Limber?"

  The cowpuncher kept his eyes on the horn of his saddle. He would haveshot Glendon for the insult passed, but he could not force himself totell Glendon's wife their mission.

  Graham cursed inwardly. Glendon's lips wore an ugly smile, and herefused to speak.

  "The train was robbed again last night, Mrs. Glendon," explained Graham,at last. "Three-fingered Jack was killed. He made a statement accusingGlendon and Alpaugh. We're all friends of Glendon's and don't believethe story was true; but we have to take him back with us. We can't helpourselves."

  Katherine held tightly to the picket fence while the man was speaking.

  "You are making a terrible mistake," she cried in relief. "He has notbeen away from home for over a month."

  "He told us that," was the answer, "and we're glad of it, too."

  She turned to her husband, her hand rested on his arm. "Jim, tell me youare innocent, and I will believe in you in spite of everything," sheimplored.

  He glanced suspiciously at the men. "You forget, Katherine, these menwill be witnesses to every word I speak."

  "We will ride off a bit, Glendon, but we've got to watch you," repliedGraham. Following the constable, the rest rode out of earshot, leavinghusband and wife practically alone.

  "Are you mixed up in it, Jim?"

  "No;" he replied boldly, trying to look her in the eyes. As his glancewavered, she knew that he was lying, and he knew that she read hisguilt. The knowledge roused his resentment.

  "Jim, be honest with me," she begged earnestly. "Trust me. No matterwhat has happened--what you may have done, you are my husband and I willstand by you. Tell me the truth."

  "There is nothing to go into hysterics over," he retorted. "You know asmuch about the affair as I do. You know I have not been away from homefor a month. If you want to help me, as you pretend you do, thatstatement from you will counteract anything Jack may have said. I don'tknow whether your testimony would even be admitted as evidence."

  "I could say that truthfully," she answered; "and, oh, Jim! I am sothankful."

  "I know you have already accused, tried and sentenced me as guilty," heshrugged his shoulders and walked over to the men. "I'll be ready assoon as I can saddle up."

  Katherine stood by the gate, numb with the shock, and as the men rodepast, they touched their hats. She only saw the careless nod that herhusband gave her, and he rode away, chatting with the men.

  Motionless Glendon's wife watched the last trace of the dust-cloud fromthe horses' hoofs, then, she turned with dragging steps into the house.

  A few days later, she learned through Juan, who had been to see Chappo,that the posse had caught up with the fleeing bandits near the Mexicanborder. Their surrender was effected after the ponies of the outlaws hadbeen shot from under them.

  Downing, Burks, Wentz and two brothers, named Rowan, constituted theremainder of the band. They, together with Alpaugh and Glendon, weretaken to the County jail at Tombstone to await their trial.

  Then a note from Glendon reached Katherine. He wanted her to come toTombstone at once and stay there until the trial was over. So, leavingJuan in full charge, she obeyed the wishes of the man she had married.