The Untamed - Max Brand
"Fire it out, lad."
"This evenin' I told you I hated no man but Jim Silent."
"Yes."
"An' now they's another of his gang. Sometime--when she's standin'
by--I'm goin' to take him by the throat till he don't breathe no more.
Then I'll throw him down in front of her an' ask her if she c'n kiss
the life back into his lips!"
Calder was actually shaking with excitement, but he was wise enough
not to speak.
"Tex!"
"Ay, lad."
"But when I've choked his damned life away----"
"Yes?"
"Ay, lad."
"There'll be five more that seen her shamin' me. Tex--all hell is
bustin' loose inside me!"
For a moment Calder watched, but that stare of cold hate mastered him.
He turned his head.
CHAPTER XV
THE CROSS ROADS
As Black Bart raced away in answer to Dan's whistle, Kate recovered
herself from the daze in which she stood and with a sob ran towards
the willows, calling the name of Dan, but Silent sprang after her, and
caught her by the arm. She cried out and struggled vainly in his grip.
"Don't follow him, boys!" called Silent. "He's a dog that can bite
while he runs. Stand quiet, girl!"
Lee Haines caught him by the shoulder and jerked Silent around. His
hand held the butt of his revolver, and his whole arm trembled with
eagerness for the draw.
"Take your hand from her, Jim!" he said.
Silent met his eye with the same glare and while his left hand still
held Kate by both her wrists his right dropped to his gun.
"Not when you tell me, Lee!"
"Damn you, I say let her go!"
"By God, Haines, I stand for too much from you!"
And still they did not draw, because each of them knew that if the
crisis came it would mean death to them both. Bill Kilduff jumped
between them and thrust them back.
He cried, "Ain't we got enough trouble without roundin' up work at
home? Terry Jordan is shot through the arm."
Kate tugged at the restraining hand of Silent, not in an attempt to
escape, but in order to get closer to Haines.
"Was this your friendship?" she said, her voice shaking with hate and
sorrow, "to bring me here as a lure for Whistling Dan? Listen to me,
all of you! He's escaped you now, and he'll come again. Remember him,
for he shan't forget you!"
"You hear her?" said Silent to Haines.
"Is this what you want me to turn loose?"
"Silent," said Haines, "it isn't the girl alone you've double crossed.
You've crooked me, and you'll pay me for it sooner or later!"
"Day or night, winter or summer, I'm willing to meet you an' fight it
out. Rhinehart and Purvis, take this girl back to the clearing!"
They approached, Purvis still staring at the hand from which only a
moment before his gun had been knocked by the shot of Whistling Dan.
It was a thing which he could not understand--he had not yet lost a
most uncomfortable sense of awe. Haines made no objection when they
went off, with Kate walking between them. He knew, now that his blind
anger had left him, that it was folly to draw on a fight while the
rest of Silent's men stood around them.
"An' the rest of you go back to the clearin'. I got somethin' to talk
over with Lee," said Silent.
The others obeyed without question, and the leader turned back to his
lieutenant. For a moment longer they remained staring at each other.
Then Silent moved slowly forward with outstretched hand.
"Lee," he said quietly, "I'm owin' you an apology an' I'm man enough
to make it."
"I can't take your hand, Jim."
Silent hesitated.
"I guess you got cause to be mad, Lee," he said. "Maybe I played too
quick a hand. I didn't think about double crossin' you. I only seen
a way to get Whistlin' Dan out of our path, an' I took it without
rememberin' that you was the safeguard to the girl."
Haines eyed his chief narrowly.
"I wish to God I could read your mind," he said at last, "but I'll
take your word that you did it without thinking."
His hand slowly met Silent's.
"An' what about the girl now, Lee?"
"I'll send her back to her father's ranch. It will be easy to put her
on the right way."
"Don't you see no reason why you can't do that?"
"Are you playing with me?"
"I'm talkin' to you as I'd talk to myself. If she's loose she'll
describe us all an' set the whole range on our trail."
Haines stared.
Silent went on: "If we can't turn her loose, they's only one thing
left--an' that's to take her with us wherever we go."
"On your honour, do you see no other way out?"
"Do you?"
"She may promise not to speak of it."
"There ain't no way of changin' the spots of a leopard, Lee, an' there
ain't no way of keepin' a woman's tongue still."
"How can we take a girl with us."
"It ain't goin' to be for long. After we pull the job that comes on
the eighteenth, we'll blow farther south an' then we'll let her go."
"And no harm will come to her while she's with us?"
"Here's my hand on it, Lee."
"How can she ride with us?"
"She won't go as a woman. I've thought of that. I brought out a new
outfit for Purvis from Elkhead--trousers, chaps, shirts, an' all. He's
small. They'll near fit the girl."
"There isn't any other way, Jim?"
"I leave it to you. God knows I don't want to drag any damn calico
aroun' with us."
As they went back towards their clearing they arranged the details.
Silent would take the men aside and explain his purpose to them.
Haines could inform the girl of what she must do. Just before they
reached the camp Silent stopped short and took Haines by the shoulder.
"They's one thing I can't make out, Lee, an' that's how Whistlin' Dan
made his getaway. I'd of bet a thousand bones that he would be dropped
before he could touch his shootin' irons. An' then what happened? Hal
Purvis jest flashed a gun--and that feller shot it out'n his hand.
I never seen a draw like that. His hand jest seemed to twitch--I
couldn't follow the move he made--an' the next second his gun went
off."
He stared at Lee with a sort of fascinated horror.
"Silent," said Haines, "can you explain how the lightning comes down
out of the sky?"
"Of course not."
"Then don't ask me to explain how Whistling Dan made his getaway. One
minute I heard him talkin' with the girl. The next second there was
two shots and when I whirled he was gone. But he'll come back, Jim.
We're not through with him. He slipped away from you and your men like
water out of a sieve, but we won't slip away from him the same way."
Silent stared on again with bowed head.
"He liked the girl, Lee?"
"Any one could see that."
"Then while she's with us he'll go pretty slow. Lee, that's another
reason why she's got to stay with us. My frien', it's time we was
moving out from the willows. The next time he comes up with us he
won't be numb in the head. He'll be thinkin' fast an' he'll be
shootin' a damn sight faster. We got two jobs ahead of us--first to
get that Wells Fargo shipment, and then to get Whistling Dan. There
ain't room enough in the whole world for him and me."
CHAPTER XVI
THE THREE OF US
In the clearing of Whistling Dan and Tex Calder the marshal had turned
into his blankets once more. There was no thought of sleep in Dan's
mind. When the heavy breathing of the sleeper began he rose and
commenced to pace up and down on the farther side of the open space.
Two pairs of glowing eyes followed him in every move. Black Bart, who
trailed him up and down during the first few turns he made, now sat
down and watched his master with a wistful gaze. The black stallion,
who lay more like a dog than a horse on the ground, kept his ears
pricked forwards, as if expecting some order. Once or twice he
whinnied very softly, and finally Dan sat down beside Satan, his
shoulders leaned against the satiny side and his arms flung out along
the stallion's back. Several times he felt hot breath against his
cheek as the horse turned a curious head towards him, but he paid no
attention, even when the stallion whinnied a question in his ear. In
his heart was a numb, strange feeling which made him weak. He was even
blind to the fact that Black Bart at last slipped into the shadows of
the willows.
Presently something cold touched his chin. He found himself staring
into the yellow-green eyes of Black Bart, who panted from his run, and
now dropped from his mouth something which fell into Dan's lap. It
was the glove of Kate Cumberland. In the grasp of his long nervous
fingers, how small it was!; and yet the hand which had wrinkled the
leather was strong enough to hold the heart of a man. He slipped and
caught the shaggy black head of Bart between his hands. The wolf
knew--in some mysterious way he knew!
The touch of sympathy unnerved him. All his sorrow and his weakness
burst on his soul in a single wave. A big tear struck the shining nose
of the wolf.
"Bart!" he whispered. "Did you figger on plumb bustin' my heart, pal?"
To avoid those large melancholy eyes, Bart pressed his head inside of
his master's arms.
"Delilah!" whispered Dan.
After that not a sound came from the three, the horse, the dog, or
the man. Black Bart curled up at the feet of his master and seemed to
sleep, but every now and then an ear raised or an eye twitched open.
He was on guard against a danger which he did not understand. The
horse, also, with a high head scanned the circling willows, alert; but
the man for whom the stallion and the wolf watched gave no heed to
either. There was a vacant and dreamy expression in his eye as if he
was searching his own inner heart and found there the greatest enemy
of all. All night they sat in this manner, silent, moveless; the
animals watching against the world, the man watching against himself.
Before dawn he roused himself suddenly, crossed to the sleeping
marshal, and touched him on the arm.
"It's time we hit the trail," he said, as Calder sat up in the
blanket.
"What's happened? Isn't it our job to comb the willows?"
"Silent ain't in the willows."
Calder started to his feet.
"How do you know?"
"They ain't close to us, that's all I know."
Tex smiled incredulously.
"I suppose," he said good humouredly, "that your _instinct_ brought you
this message?"
"Instinct?" repeated Dan blankly, "I dunno."
Calder grew serious.
"We'll take a chance that you may be right. At least we can ride down
the river bank and see if there are any fresh tracks in the sand. If
Silent started this morning I have an idea he'll head across the river
and line out for the railroad."
In twenty minutes their breakfast was eaten and they were in the
saddle. The sun had not yet risen when they came out of the willows to
the broad shallow basin of the river. In spring, when the snow of the
mountains melted, that river filled from bank to bank with a yellow
torrent; at the dry season of the year it was a dirty little creek
meandering through the sands. Down the bank they rode at a sharp trot
for a mile and a half until Black Bart, who scouted ahead of them at
his gliding wolf-trot, came to an abrupt stop. Dan spoke to Satan and
the stallion broke into a swift gallop which left the pony of Tex
Calder labouring in the rear. When they drew rein beside the wolf,
they found seven distinct tracks of horses which went down the bank
of the river and crossed the basin. Calder turned with a wide-eyed
amazement to Dan.
"You're right again," he said, not without a touch of vexation in his
voice; "but the dog stopped at these tracks. How does he know we are
hunting for Silent's crew?"
"I dunno," said Dan, "maybe he jest suspects."
"They can't have a long start of us," said Calder. "Let's hit the
trail. Well get them before night."
"No," said Dan, "we won't."
"Why won't we?"
"I've seen Silent's hoss, and I've ridden him. If the rest of his gang
have the same kind of hoss flesh, you c'n never catch him with that
cayuse of yours."
"Maybe not today," said Calder, "but in two days we'll run him down.
Seven horses can't travel as two in a long chase."
They started out across the basin, keeping to the tracks of Silent's
horses. It was the marshal's idea that the outlaws would head on a
fairly straight line for the railroad and accordingly when they lost
the track of the seven horses they kept to this direction. Twice
during the day they verified their course by information received once
from a range rider and once from a man in a dusty buck-board. Both of
these had sighted the fast travelling band, but each had seen it pass
an hour or two before Calder and Dan arrived. Such tidings encouraged
the marshal to keep his horse at an increasing speed; but in the
middle of the afternoon, though black Satan showed little or no signs
of fatigue, the cattle-pony was nearly blown and they were forced to
reduce their pace to the ordinary dog-trot.
CHAPTER XVII
THE PANTHER'S PAW
Evening came and still they had not sighted the outlaws. As dark fell
they drew near a house snuggled away among a group of cottonwoods.
Here they determined to spend the night, for Calder's pony was now
almost exhausted. A man of fifty came from the house in answer to
their call and showed them the way to the horse-shed. While they
unsaddled their horses he told them his name was Sam Daniels, yet
he evinced no curiosity as to the identity of his guests, and they
volunteered no information. His eyes lingered long and fondly over the
exquisite lines of Satan. From behind, from the side, and in front, he
viewed the stallion while Dan rubbed down the legs of his mount with
a care which was most foreign to the ranges. Finally the cattleman
reached out a hand toward the smoothly muscled shoulders.
It was Calder who stood nearest and he managed to strike up Daniels's
extended arm and jerk him back from the region of danger.
"What'n hell is that for?" exclaimed Daniels.
"That horse is called Satan," said Calder, "and when any one save his
owner touches him he lives up to his name and raises hell."
Before Daniels could answer, the light of his lantern fell upon Black
Bart, hitherto half hidden by the deepening shadows of the night,
but standing now at the entrance of the shed. The cattleman's teeth
clicked together and he slapped his hand against his thigh in a reach
for the gun which was not there.
"Look behind you," he said to Calder. "A wolf!"
He made a grab for the marshal's gun, but the latter forestalled him.
"Go easy, partner," he said, grinning, "that's only the running
mate of the horse. He's not a wolf, at least not according to his
owner--and as for being wild--look at that!"
Bart had stalked calmly into the shed and now lay curled up exactly
beneath the feet of the stallion.
The two guests received a warmer welcome from Sam Daniels' wife when
they reached the house. Their son, Buck, had been expected home
for supper, but it was too late for them to delay the meal longer.
Accordingly they sat down at once and the dinner was nearly over when
Buck, having announced himself with a whoop as he rode up, entered,
banging the door loudly behind him. He greeted the strangers with a
careless wave of the hand and sat down at the table. His mother placed
food silently before him. No explanations of his tardiness were asked
and none were offered. The attitude of his father indicated clearly
that the boy represented the earning power of the family. He was a big
fellow with broad, thick wrists, and a straight black eye. When he had
eaten, he broke into breezy conversation, and especially of a vicious
mustang he had ridden on a bet the day before.
"Speakin' of hosses, Buck," said his father, "they's a black out in
the shed right now that'd make your eyes jest nacherally pop out'n
their sockets. No more'n fifteen hands, but a reg'lar picture. Must be
greased lightnin'."
"I've heard talk of these streaks of greased lightnin'," said Buck,
with a touch of scorn, "but I'll stack old Mike agin the best of
them."
"An' there's a dog along with the hoss--a dog that's the nearest to a
wolf of any I ever seen."
There was a sudden change in Buck--a change to be sensed rather than
definitely noted with the eye. It was a stiffening of his body--an
alertness of which he was at pains to make no show. For almost
immediately he began to whistle softly, idly, his eyes roving
carelessly across the wall while he tilted back in his chair. Dan
dropped his hand close to the butt of his gun. Instantly, the eyes of
Buck flashed down and centered on Dan for an instant of keen scrutiny.
Certainly Buck had connected that mention of the black horse and the
wolf-dog with a disturbing idea.
When they went to their room--a room in which there was no bed and
they had to roll down their blankets on the floor--Dan opened the
window and commenced to whistle one of his own wild tunes. It seemed
to Calder that there was a break in that music here and there, and a
few notes grouped together like a call. In a moment a shadowy figure
leaped through the window, and Black Bart landed on the floor with
soft padding feet.
Recovering from his start Calder cursed softly.
"What's the main idea?" he asked.
Dan made a signal for a lower tone.
"There ain't no idea," he answered, "but these Daniels people--do you
know anything about them?"
"No. Why?"
"They interest me, that's all."
"Anything wrong?"
"I guess not."
"Why did you whistle for this infernal wolf? It makes me nervous to
have him around. Get out, Bart."
The wolf turned a languid eye upon the marshal.
"Let him be," said Dan. "I don't feel no ways nacheral without havin'
Bart around."
The marshal made no farther objections, and having rolled himself in
his blankets was almost immediately asleep and breathing heavily. The
moment Dan heard his companion draw breath with a telltale regularity,
he sat up again in his blankets. Bart was instantly at his side. He
patted the shaggy head lightly, and pointed towards the door.
"Guard!" he whispered.
Then he lay down and was immediately asleep. Bart crouched at his feet
with his head pointed directly at the door.
In other rooms there was the sound of the Daniels family going to
bed--noises distinctly heard throughout the flimsy frame of the house.
After that a deep silence fell which lasted many hours, but in that
darkest moment which just precedes the dawn, a light creaking came up
the hall. It was very faint and it occurred only at long intervals,
but at the first sound Black Bart raised his head from his paws and
stared at the door with those glowing eyes which see in the dark.
Now another sound came, still soft, regular. There was a movement of
the door. In the pitch dark a man could never have noticed it, but it
was plainly visible to the wolf. Still more visible, when the door
finally stood wide, was the form of the man who stood in the opening.
In one hand he carried a lantern thoroughly hooded, but not so well
wrapped that it kept back a single ray which flashed on a revolver.
The intruder made a step forward, a step as light as the fall of
feathers, but it was not half so stealthy as the movement of Black
Bart as he slunk towards the door. He had been warned to watch that
door, but it did not need a warning to tell him that a danger was
approaching the sleeping master. In the crouched form of the man, in
the cautious step, he recognized the unmistakable stalking of one who
hunts. Another soft step the man made forward.
Then, with appalling suddenness, a blacker shadow shot up from the
deep night of the floor, and white teeth gleamed before the stranger's
face. He threw up his hand to save his throat. The teeth sank into
his arm--a driving weight hurled him against the wall and then to
the floor--the revolver and the lantern dropped clattering, and the
latter, rolling from its wrapping, flooded the room with light. But
neither man nor wolf uttered a sound.
Calder was standing, gun in hand, but too bewildered to act, while
Dan, as if he were playing a part long rehearsed, stood covering the
fallen form of Buck Daniels.
"Stand back from him, Bart!" he commanded.
The wolf slipped off a pace, whining with horrible eagerness, for he
had tasted blood. Far away a shout came from Sam Daniels. Dan lowered
his gun.
"Stand up," he ordered.
The big fellow picked himself up and stood against the wall with the
blood streaming down his right arm. Still he said nothing and his keen
eyes darted from Calder to Whistling Dan.
"Give me a strip of that old shirt over there, will you, Tex?" said
Dan, "an' keep him covered while I tie up his arm."
Before Calder could move, old Daniels appeared at the door, a heavy
Colt in his hand. For a moment he stood dumbfounded, but then, with a
cry, jerked up his gun--a quick movement, but a fraction of a second
too slow, for the hand of Dan darted out and his knuckles struck the
wrist of the old cattleman. The Colt rattled on the floor. He lunged
after his weapon, but the voice of Buck stopped him short.
"The game's up, Dad," he growled, "that older feller is Tex Calder."
The name, like a blow in the face, straightened old Daniels and left
him white and blinking. Whistling Dan turned his back on the father
and deftly bound up the lacerated arm of Buck.
"In the name o' God, Buck," moaned Sam, "what you been tryin' to do in
here?"
"What you'd do if you had the guts for it. That's Tex Calder an' this
is Dan Barry. They're on the trail of big Jim. I wanted to put 'em off
that trail."
"Look here," said Calder, "how'd you know us?"
"I've said my little say," said Buck sullenly, "an' you'll get no more
out of me between here an' any hell you can take me to."
"He knew us when his father talked about Satan an' Black Bart," said
Dan to Tex. "Maybe he's one of Silent's."
"Buck, for God's sake tell 'em you know nothin' of Silent," cried old
Daniels. "Boy, boy, it's hangin' for you if they get you to Elkhead
an' charge you with that!"
"Dad, you're a fool," said Buck. "I ain't goin' down on my knees to
'em. Not me."
Calder, still keeping Buck covered with his gun, drew Dan a little to
one side.
"What can we do with this fellow, Dan?" he said. "Shall we give up the
trail and take him over to Elkhead?"
"An' break the heart of the ol' man?"
"Buck is one of the gang, that's certain."
"Get Silent an' there won't be no gang left."
"But we caught this chap in red blood--"
"He ain't very old, Tex. Maybe he could change. I think he ain't been
playin' Silent's game any too long."
"We can't let him go. It isn't in reason to do that."
"I ain't thinkin' of reason. I'm thinkin' of old Sam an' his wife."
"And if we turn him loose?"
"He'll be your man till he dies."
Calder scowled.
"The whole range is filled with these silent partners of the
outlaws--but maybe you're right, Dan. Look at them now!"
The father was standing close to his son and pouring out a torrent of
appeal--evidently begging him in a low voice to disavow any knowledge
of Silent and his crew, but Buck shook his head sullenly. He had given
up hope. Calder approached them.
"Buck," he said, "I suppose you know that you could be hung for what
you've tried to do tonight. If the law wouldn't hang you a lynching
party would. No jail would be strong enough to keep them away from
you."
Buck was silent, dogged.
"But suppose we were to let you go scot free?"
Buck started. A great flush covered his face.
"I'm taking the advice of Dan Barry in doing this," said Calder.
"Barry thinks you could go straight. Tell me man to man, if I give you
the chance will you break loose from Silent and his gang?"
A moment before, Buck had been steeled for the worst, but this sudden
change loosened all the bonds of his pride. He stammered and choked.
Calder turned abruptly away.
"Dan," he said, "here's the dawn, and it's time for us to hit the
trail."
They rolled their blankets hastily and broke away from the gratitude
which poured like water from the heart of old Sam. They were in their
saddles when Buck came beside Dan. His pride, his shame, and his
gratitude broke his voice.
"I ain't much on words," he said, "but it's you I'm thankin'!"
His hand reached up hesitatingly, and Dan caught it in a firm grip.
"Why," he said gently, "even Satan here stumbles now an' then, but
that ain't no reason I should get rid of him. Good luck--partner!"
He shook the reins and the stallion leaped off after Calder's trotting
pony. Buck Daniels stood motionless looking after them, and his eyes
were very dim.
For an hour Dan and Tex were on the road before the sun looked over
the hills. Calder halted his horse to watch.
"Dan," he said at last, "I used to think there were only two ways of
handling men--one with the velvet touch and one with the touch of
steel. Mine has been the way of steel, but I begin to see there's a
third possibility--the touch of the panther's paw--the velvet with the
steel claws hid beneath. That's your way, and I wonder if it isn't the
best. I think Buck Daniels would be glad to die for you!"
He turned directly to Dan.
"But all this is aside from the point, which is that the whole country
is full of these silent partners of the outlaws. The law plays a lone
hand in the mountain-desert."
"You've played the lone hand and won twenty times," said Dan.
"Ay, but the twenty-first time I may fail. The difference between
success and failure in this country is just the length of time it
takes to pull a trigger--and Silent is fast with a gun. He's the root
of the outlaw power. We may kill a hundred men, but till he's gone
we've only mowed the weeds, not pulled them. But what's the use of
talking? One second will tell the tale when I stand face to face with
Jim Silent and we go for our six-guns. And somewhere between that
rising sun and those mountains I'll find Jim Silent and the end of
things for one of us."