CHAPTER XXII: THE ROCK IN THE STREAM
Westcott was sensible now of a feeling of intense exhaustion. Thefierce fighting in the room behind the saloon; the excitement of theattempt to escape; the chase, ending with the plunge through the streamhad left him pitifully weak. He could perceive his hand tremble as hehanded over the cartridge belt. The marshal noticed it also, and casta swift glance into the other's face.
"About all in, Jim?" he inquired understandingly. "Little out of yourusual line, I reckon. Take a bit o' rest thar, an' ye'll be all right.It's safe 'nough fer the present whar we are, fer as thet bunch o'chicken thieves is concerned. Yer wa'n't hurt, or nuthin', durin' thescrap?"
"No more than a few bruises, but it an happened so quickly I haven'tany breath left. I'll be all right in a minute. How are we fixed forammunition?"
"Blame pore, if yer ask me; not more'n twenty cartridges atween us. Iwa'n't a lookin' fer no such scrap just now; but we'll get along, Ireckon, fer thar ain't any o' that bunch anxious ter get hurt none,less maybe it might be Lacy. What gets my goat is this yere plugtobacco," and he gazed mournfully at the small fragment in his hand."That ain't hardly 'nough ov it left fer a good chaw; how are youfixed, Jim?"
"Never use it, Dan, but here's a badly smashed cigar."
"That'll help some--say, ain't that one o' them shirky birds yonder?Sure; it's Bill himself. I don't know whether ter take a snap-shot atthe cuss, er wait an' hear what he's got ter say--Hello, there!"
The fellow who stood partially revealed above the bank stared in thedirection of the voice, and then ventured to expose himself further.
"Hello yourself," he answered. "Is that you, Brennan?"
The marshal hoisted himself to the top of the rock, the revolver in hishand clearly revealed in the bright sunlight.
"It's me all right, Lacy," he replied deliberately. "You ought terorganise a sharpshooters' club among that gang o' yours; I was plumbdisgusted the way they handle fire-arms."
"Well, we've got yer now, Dan, so yer might as well quit yer crowin'.We don't have ter do no more shootin'; we'll just naturally sit downyere, an' starve yer out. Maybe yer ready to talk now?"
"Sure; what's the idea?"
"Well, yer an officer ov the law, ain't yer? Yer was chose marshal terkeep the peace, an' take care o' them that raised hell in Haskell.Ain't that yer job?"
"I reckon it is."
"And didn't I do more'n anybody else ter get yer appointed? Then whatare yer goin' back on me for, and the rest ov the boys, an' takin'sides along with a murderer? We want Jim Westcott, an' you bet we'rea-goin' ter get him."
The little marshal spat into the water below, his face expressionless.To all appearances he felt slight interest in the controversy.
"Nice of yer ter declare yer intentions, Lacy," he admitted soberly,"only it sorter looks as if yer didn't consider me as bein' much in theway. I reckon yer outlined my duty all right; that's exactly my way o'looking at it--ter keep the peace, an' take care o' them that raisedhell in Haskell. I couldn't 'a' told it no better myself."
"Then what are yer fightin' fer Westcott fer?"
"'Cause he's my prisoner, an' is goin' ter get a fair trial. If he wasthe orneriest Mexican that ever come 'cross the line I'd stay withhim--that's the law."
"An' yer won't give him up?"
"Not in a thousand years, an' yer might as well save yer breath, Bill,an' get out. I've told you straight, and I reckon you and your gangknow me. Nobody never told you that Dan Brennan was a quitter, didthey?"
"But you blame fool," and Lacy's voice plainly indicated his anger."You can't fight this whole camp; we'll get yer, dead or alive."
"Yer welcome ter try; I ain't askin' no sorter favour; only yer betterbe blame keerful about it, fer my trigger finger appears ter bealmighty nervous ter-day--drop that!"
His hand shot out like lightning, the blue steel of his revolverflashing. Lacy flung up his arms, and backed down out of view, butjust beyond where he had stood, a gun barked from out the chaparral anda bullet crashed against the rock scarcely a foot from Brennan's head.The latter answered it so promptly the two reports sounded almost asone, and then rolled back into shelter, laughing as though the wholeaffair was a joke.
"One ov Mike's little tricks," he chuckled, peering back at the shore,"I know the bark of that old girl. Hope I pricked him. That guy usedto be a good shot, too, afore he got to drinkin' so much. I reckonwe're in fer a siege, Jim."
Westcott extended his hand.
"It's mighty white of you, Dan, to stay by me," he said gravely. "It'sliable to cost you your job."
"Ter hell with the job. I kin earn more in the mines eny day. I'm notdoin' eny more for you than I would fer eny other galoot in bad. Iwouldn't let 'em lynch a hoss-thief without givin' 'em a fight first.Don't be givin' any sympathy ter me."
"But we haven't any chance."
"Well, I don't know about that now," and the marshal looked up and downthe stream thoughtfully. "It might be worse. Look a here, Jim. Isaid I'd 'a' stayed with yer no matter what yer was guilty of, so longas yer was my prisoner, an' that's the gospel truth. There ain't agoin' ter be no lynchin' in Haskell while I'm marshal, unless them ratsget me first. But this yere case ain't even that kind. It's a put-upjob frum the beginnin' an' Bill Lacy ain't a goin' ter get away withit, as long as I kin either fight er bluff. This yere fuss ain't yourfault, an' yer never shot the man either."
"No. I didn't, Dan. I never fired a gun."
"I know it; that's why all hell can't pry me loose. I saw most ov therow, an' I reckon I ain't so dumb that I can't catch onto the game whatLacy is tryin' ter play. I didn't hear what you an' him was talkin'about, so I don't know just the cause o' the rumpus, but the way heplayed his hand didn't make no hit with me."
"You saw what happened?"
"Sure; it didn't look good ter me, his gittin' yer ter come ter hisplace, specially when I knew he wasn't there alone; so, after ye'd gonein through the saloon, I sasshayed down the alley an' took a peek inthrough that rear window. The tarnation thing is barred up with sheetiron, an' I couldn't see much, nor hear a blame word, but I caught onthat there was liable ter be a row a fore it was over with. Throughthat peep-hole I got sight o' you, Lacy, an' that fat feller--what'shis name?"
"Enright, a New York lawyer."
"That's it; well I could make out the three of yer, but I never gotsight of the other buck--his name was Beaton, wasn't it?--till he cameout from behind the curtain and gripped yer. It was a put-up job allright, an' maybe I ought to have hustled round to the door an' took ahand. But I don't aim to mix up in no scrimmage as long as both sideshas got a fair show. Course thar was three ag'in' one, but arter youkicked the wind out o' the lawyer, the odds wasn't so bad, an' I sorterhated to lose out seeing how the scrap came out. Holy smoke! but yousure put up some dandy fight, Jim. I ain't seen nuthin' better since Istruck this yere camp. You had them two guys licked to a frazzle, whenthat Enright come back to life agin, an' crawled out on the floor an'picked up your gun. The fust thing I knew he had it, an' the nextthing I knew he'd pulled the trigger. He meant it fer you, but Beatongot it."
"It was Enright then who fired the shot?"
"Sure it was Enright; I saw him, but that didn't cut any ice after Igot inside. Do you see? The whole crowd was Lacy's gang; they'd dowhatever he said. It was your gun that had the discharged cartridge;Bill was yellin' that you fired it, and Enright, o' course, would havebacked him up to save his own neck. You was in a fight with the fellerwhat was shot. See! It was a mighty ugly fix, an' nobody in thatoutfit would 'a' listened to me. It struck me, son, that Lacy wasall-fired anxious to get rid of you--he saw a chance, and jumped forit. What was the row about--your mine?"
"Partly, but mostly another affair. The best thing I can do is tellyou about it. What's going on up there?"
He pointed up the stream, and Brennan shaded his eyes to look, althoughcareful to keep well under cover, confident that any movement would
beobserved from the shore. He gazed for some time before he seemedentirely satisfied.
"A bunch of the boys crossin' the old ford," he said quietly. "Goin'to picket the other bank, I reckon. There's likely to be some morecomin' down the opposite way from the bridge. That's Lacy's idea--tostarve us out."
"They seem quiet enough."
"There won't be any more fightin' unless we try to get away, I reckon.They know we are armed and can shoot. You better keep down, though,Jim, for they're sure a watchin' us all right, an' all Lacy cares aboutis to put you out o' the way. He'd just as soon do it with a bullet asa rope. Go on with your story."
Westcott told it simply, but in full detail, beginning with thediscovery of ore in his mine, and including his telegram to FredCavendish; the discovery of what was supposed to be the dead body ofthe latter in the Waldron Apartments, New York; the investigations intothe mystery of his death by Willis and Miss Donovan, and thedespatching of Miss Donovan to Haskell to intercept Enright's party;the arrival of the latter and the events, so far as he understood them,leading up to the forcible abduction of the girl.
The marshal listened quietly to the narrative, the quick action of hisjaws alone evidencing his interest, although he occasionally interposeda question. Except for Westcott's voice there was no sound, beyond thelapping of water against the rock, and no figures of men became visiblealong either bank. The party above had crossed the stream, anddisappeared up a ravine, and nothing remained to indicate that thesetwo were fugitives, hiding for their lives, and facing a desperateexpedient in an effort to escape their pursuers. As the speakerfinally concluded the silence was almost oppressive.
"How do yer suppose Bill Lacy got into the affair?" asked Brennan, atlast thoughtfully. "I don't put no sorter deviltry beyond him, yerunderstand, but I don't quite see how he ever come to get mixed up inthis yere New York mess. Seems like he had enough hell brewing here athome."
"I'm just as much in the dark as you are, as to that," admittedWestcott doubtfully. "I am convinced, however, that Cavendish is stillalive, and that another body strangely resembling his was found in theNew York apartments. According to Enright this was not part of theirscheme, but merely an accident of which they took advantage. How truethis is will never be known unless we discover Cavendish, and learn hisstory. Now, if he is alive, where has he been concealed, and for whatpurpose? Another thing begins to loom up. The mere hiding of the manwas all right so long as the conspirators were not suspected. But nowwhen they are aware that they are being followed, what is likely tohappen? Will they become desperate enough to kill their victim, hopingthus to destroy absolutely the evidence of their crime? Will theirvengeance also include Miss Donovan?"
"Not unless they can get you out of the way first," decided the marshalgrimly. "That is Lacy's most important job--you are more dangerous tothem now than the girl. That meeting to-day was prearranged, andBeaton was expected to land you. That was why he hid behind thecurtain, but something caused him to make a false move; they neverexpected you to put up that sort o' fight, Jim, for nobody knew yer inthis camp fer a fightin' man. But what's yer theory 'bout Cavendish?Let's leave the dead man in New York go, an' get down ter cases."
"I figure it out like this, Dan. I believe Fred got my telegram, anddecided to come out here at once without telling anybody what his planswere. All he did was to make a will, so as to dispose of his propertyin case anything happened. His employing Enright for that jobunfortunately put the whole thing in the hands of this crowd. Theywere ready to act, and they acted. Beaton must have taken the sametrain, and the two men got friendly; probably they never knew eachother in New York, but, being from the same place, it was easy enoughto strike up an acquaintance. What occurred on board is all guesswork,but a sudden blow at night, on an observation platform, at some desertstation, is not impossible; or it might be sickness, and the two menleft behind to seek a physician. Here was where Lacy must have comein. He goes East occasionally, doesn't he?"
"Sure; come to think of it he was in New York 'bout three months ago onsome cattle deal, an' I heard he had an agent there sellin' wildcatminin' stock. There ain't no doubt in my mind but he knew some o'these fellers. They wouldn't 'a' planned this unless they had somecache fixed out yere in this country--that's plain as a wart on thenose. But whar is it? I'll bet yer that if we ever find Cavendish,we'll find the girl along with him; an' what's more, that spot ain'tliable ter be more'n fifty miles from Haskell."
"What makes you think that?"
"'Cause this is Lacy's bailiwick, an' thar ain't no man knows thiscountry better'n he does; he's rode it night and day for ten years, an'most o' the hangers-on in this camp get money out o' him one way eranother--mostly another. Then, why should Enright an' his crowd comeyere, unless that was a fact? They must have come for something; thatlawyer ain't yere on no minin' deal; an' no more has Beaton been layin'round town fer a month doin' nuthin' but drinkin' whisky. The wholeblame outfit is right here in Haskell, and they wouldn't be if thiswasn't headquarters. That's good common sense, ain't it?" He stoppedsuddenly, patting his hand on the rock, and then lifting his head toscan the line of shore. "They're there all right, Jim," he announced."I just got a glimpse o' two back in the brush yonder. What made yerask me 'bout Pasqual Mendez this mornin'? You don't hook the Mexicanup with this affair, do yer?"
"Sadie told me she heard Enright speak of him at breakfast; that wasall she heard, just the name."
"Sadie? Oh, the red-headed waitress at Timmons's, you mean? Big Tim'sgirl?"
"Yes; she was the one who saw Miss Donovan forced into the wagon, anddriven off."
"And they took the old Shoshone trail; out past Hennessey's ranch?"
"So she described it. Does that mean anything?"
Brennan did not answer at once, sitting silent, his brows wrinkled,staring through a crevasse of the rock up the stream. Finally hegrinned into the anxious face of the other.
"Danged if I know," he said drawlingly. "Maybe it does, and maybeagain it don't. I was sorter puttin' this an' that tergether. There'sa Mex who used to hang about here a couple of years ago they allerssaid belonged to Mendez's gang. His name is Cateras, a young feller,an' a hell ov a gambler. It just comes ter me that he was in the RedDog three er four nights ago playin' monte. I didn't see him myself,but Joe Mapes said he was there, an' that makes it likely 'nough thatMendez isn't so blame far away."
"And he and Lacy have interests in common?"
"That is the rumour. I never got hold ov any proof, but Lacy hasshipped a pile o' cattle out o' Villa Real, although why he should everdrive his cows there across the desert instead o' shippin' them here inHaskell or Taylorville, I never could understand. That's the principalreason I've got for thinkin' he an' Mendez are in cahoots, an' if theybe, then the Mexican must have some kind o' a camp out there in thesand whar he hides between raids; though, damn if I know whar it canbe." He paused reflectively. "It'll be like hunting a needle in thehaystack, Jim, but I reckon you an' I'll have to get out that way, an'we might have luck enough to stumble onto the old devil."
Westcott changed his position, inadvertently bringing his head abovethe protection of the rock. Instantly there was a sharp report, and aspeeding bullet grazed his hair, flattening out against the stone. Therapidity with which he ducked caused the marshal to laugh.
"Not hurt, are you? No. That was a rifle; Mike isn't such a bad shotwith that weapon. He's over there behind that tree--see the smoke? Ifthe cuss pokes his head out, I'll try the virtue of this .45; it oughtto carry that far. Hah! there he is; I made the bark fly anyway."