Shoot-out at Split Rock (16 page)

"Give 'em hell, boys," the foreman rasped.

The crash of the rifles was followed by exultant shouts from the marksmen as they saw bronze bodies go down before their bullets. The stream of lead disrupted the wave in the center and the two halves curved left and right, replying to the rifles with a cloud of arrows, some of which sang past the ears of the white men. Out on the trail a half-dozen dead or wounded were stretched, and as many horses.

"That'll lam 'em," the Infant cried excitedly, for it was his first real Indian fight "D'you reckon they've had enough?"

The question was addressed to Jeff, a few yards away; the foreman smiled dourly. "That h'l flurry was on'y a be-ginnin', son, sorta appertizer," he replied. "They'U mean it, next time. Keep well down; them arrers can bite."

The redskins were soon on die move again. Strung out in a line they headed west and then whirled and raced their ponies across the guUy mouth, each horseman, as he arrived opposite the opening, vanishing from sight

"Where in hell they got to?" the Infant queried.

"Lyin' alongside the hoss, with a foot through the beUy-band," Jeff explained, and added grimly, "Down the bosses, son, an' watch out for arrers."

The caution was needed, for from under the necks of the galloping ponies the red riders sent a succession of the deadly shafts, which whistled through the air and searched the cover. The defenders repHed with their rifles, but the moving single marks were difficult to hit, and they did not meet with much success. The braves who had successfully crossed the firing line swung up into their seats again and

circled roxind to repeat the maneuvre. From the far side of the trail two rifles crashed and the same number of ponies became riderless. The foreman chuckled.

"Jim an' Sandy is gettin' interested," he said.

His satisfaction was short-hved. From a clump of thom ten paces distant came a gasping gurgle and the ratde of ; dropped weapon. At the risk of his life, JefE sprang to th spot, only to find he could do nothing. Crumpled up on th: ground, an arrow through his throt, lay Silent. The foreman straightened the body, placed the hat over the face, and swore savagely. As he turned away, the Infant caUed

"Hey, Jeff, pull this damn stick out—it hurts likw blazes."

An arrow had transfixed the boy's forearm. Snapping the shaft, the foreman drew out the barbed end, inspecting the edges of the wound closely. Then he nodded, and tied it up with a handkerchief.

"Mighta bin wuss," he said. "Keep down; they've got Silent."

The procession of seemingly masterless mustangs had passed and a respite from the raiu of arrows ensued. The Apaches were bunched together further down the trail The intermittent bark of two guns from the rear of the attackers indicated that Jim and Sandy were still interested. At the other end of the firing line Jed was w rinklin g his brow.

"Say, Dumpy, haw many d'you figure we've knocked over?" he asked.

"Well, you ain't got any, but the rest of us has downed Tjout ten," was the answer.

For once his friend ignored an insult. "There's more'n twice that number layin' out there an' some of 'em is movin'," Jed asserted.

"Creased an' tryin' to crawl clear," Dumpy suggested.

**They wouldn't come this way," Jed objected. "No, sir, dropped off'n their broncs an' playin' dead so's they can sneak in an' rush us, that's what. TTie jigger with the eagle feather in his top knot is five yards nearer than when I spotted him, Tm savin' him the trouble o' pertendin'."

Raising his rifle he pulled the trigger and they saw the brown body jerk convulsively, struggle, and flop back.

"Who fired?" Jeff asked sharply. "Wanta kill 'em twice over?"

Before Jed could explain, the supposed corpses did it for him, seven or eight of the nearest scrambling to their feet and sprinting for their Uves, zigzagging to escape the bullets the cowboys sent after them. Several were bowled over but the others regained their comrades.

"Good for you, Jed," Eden called out. "I'm remembering it. I reckon they won't try that trick again."

As though they had been awaiting the result of this ruse, the Apaches began to show signs of fresh activity, massing together in readiness for another charge. Two rifles spoke from the opposing side of the trail and a gaudily be-feathered brave toppled to the ground, while another jumped clear of his staggering pony.

"WeU done, Jim an' Sandy," the foreman cried,

"You figure it's them?" the cattleman asked.

"I'm damn shore," Jeff said stoutly. "If we get clear o* this it's them you gotta thank, like it or not."

The savages were hesitating, the attack from the rear seemed to be bothering them. They were now galloping to and fro, jabbering, gesturing, apparently discussing what action they should take. The matter was to be decided for them. From behind a hillock up the trail a band of more than a dozen riders emerged, spurring their mounts madly, and firing as they came.

At the sight of this reinforcement, the Indians fled. With shouts and wUd oaths the newcomers followed, ruthlessly shooting down the runaways. Their leader only did not join in the pursuit. Wheeling his horse, he rode to where the rancher was standing, and got down.

"WeU, Eden, I reckon we didn't come any too soon," he said.

"I'd rather you hadn't come at all—we could 'a' beat 'em off without you," the old man ungraciously retorted. "If yo're lookin' for thanks yo're Hable to be disappointed."

"I ain't," Rogue returned drily. "But if you wam't needin' me, why send?"

"I never did. If Sands came to you—"

"It wam't Sands," the outlaw interposed. "A little runt of a fella, dressed in deerskin an' wearin' moccasins; looked like a forest runner."

"Ain't seen him," the rancher snapped. "I naturally figured Green would use his sidekick."

"So it was his idea, huh?" Rogue said reflectively, and chuckled. "It would be o' course. Where is he?"

"I dunno, an' I care less," Eden told him. "I set 'em adrift when I learned they belong to you."

"They don't—I wish they did," Rogue admitted. "I could use 'em, but it looks like they're still workin' for the S-E."

"WaitiQ' for a chance to carry out yore orders an' drill me again, I s'pose?" the cattleman sneered.

"I'd no hand in that, Eden; it's not my way," the outlaw said sternly. His face hardened. "I could take yore herd right now if I wanted."

"You could take a slug through the gizzard now if I wanted," the old man growled, gripping his rifle suggestively.

Rogue looked at him in grim amusement. "An' what would that buy you? My men, mebbe, ain't got my respect for youth an' beauty."

He removed his hat and bowed, either in real or pretended pohteness, as Carol—anxious about her father— appeared. Baudry, who had apparently been to fetch her, was just behind. His eyes met those of the bandit leader for one brief instant but his face was devoid of expression.

"We seem fated to meet in unpleasant circumstances,-Miss Eden," Rogue said easily, aware that by speaking to her he was rubbing the rancher on a raw place.

"My daughter don't wanta talk to a rustier," Eden said. The girl gazed reproachfully at her angry parent. "He came to our assistance," she reminded. Her eyes widened as she saw that Rogue's wrist was torn. "You are hurt," she went on, "I've some bandages here—I got them ready, in case..."

"It's on'y a graze—^not worth fussin' over," the outiaw muttered.

But Carol insisted, and Rogue's eyes regarded her curiously as she deftiy bound up the wound. "I'm obliged," he said gruffly.

*T got a scratch too," Navajo put in, his evil, leering gaze on the girl.

Rogue spun round. "Get to hell outa this," he hissed, and before the deadly menace in tone and look the half-breed fell back.

The outlaw leader stepped into his saddle. "Well, so long, Eden," he said. "We'll be seein' you. If you bump into any more trouble, send, an' we'll come a-runnin'. This time we couldn't help ourselves; next time, mebbe we'll be able to."

With this meaning jest he signed to his men and rode away, indifierent to the threatening growls which greeted it

Ticelve

The herd went on, leaving behind one of the oblong heaps of rock which were only too frequently on the Western trails. The rancher was hard to live with during the ensuing days. The loss of one of his men had depressed him; he became moody, savage. The very thought that he had been placed under an obligation to one he despised as an outlaw, who made no secret of his intention to rob him, filled the old frontiersman with fury. He was troubled too with odd doubts in the matter of Green and Sandy. The bandit had disclaimed—more—^had regretted them, but probably he was lying. Bah! Green was "Sudden"—a wanted man with a price on his head, and Sandy had tried to IdU him, so that was that. Thus he would dismiss the subject, only to find himself milling it over in his mind an hour later.

Baudry also was far from happy, for Carol avoided him. But this was not what most concerned him. It was several days after the Indian attack that he made an opportunity to speak with Dutt alone.

"Well, Monte, you ain't lookin' too peart," was the greeting he received. "What's disturbin' yore rosy dreams?"

"I've told you not to use that name," the gambler growled, "So you are satisfied with the situation, eh?"

"Shore I am. Rogue has got this outfit where we want it, an' with those two cowboys in the discard, it looks like pie to me,"

"Unless Rogue keeps the cows and sells them himself."

"At that, we're on velvet. Eden's busted an' we get the S-E."

"And that damned outlaw picks up fifty thousand dollars or more. No, Davy, I'm not standing for that. I offered to take those cows at five a head and I'm going to have them. There's another danger, the damn fool is turning soft. Did you see his face when Carol tied his wrist up?"

"He certainly didn't seem to enjoy it as much as—you might—for instance."

"Enjoy it? That was torture for him, it fetched back his past and showed him where he had dropped to. I don't suppose a good woman has stretched out a hand to him for years. She played a big card then, though she didn't know it. I was watching him and I teU you I wouldn't be surprised if he let Eden keep his cows for her sake."

Dutt was plainly incredulous. "Rogue's too tough to fall for a skirt," he said. "An' his men wouldn't let him! We can see to it that they don't."

The gambler nodded. "Tell Rollitt to find Navajo and warn him. Rogue must steal the herd. Afterwards—we shall see. My share of that fifty thousand would pay for the wedding trip I have in mind, Davy."

"First catch yore bride," the other parodied.

"She'll come to heel, when her father is faced with finding a job," Baudry said. "What do they call it in Texas? Riding the 'chuck line,' eh? She won't let him do that at his age."

Camp was being struck and preparations made for the day's trek when Sudden and his two companions made their appearance, greatly to the astonishment of those of the S-E outfit as were present. For days since the encounter with the redskins they had trailed the herd, watched the crossing of a river which Tyson opined must be the Cimarron.

The two cowboys had found the "still-hunter" more than useful. Not only had he kept them well suppUed with game, but his knowledge of woodcraft made him an ideal spy on the outlaws. Unsuspected, moving with the silence of a serpent in the undergrowth, he haunted them, often getting sufficiently near to hear their conversation. But he had not yet learned when they intended to make the

final move. Sudden, however, guessed that the blow could not now be long delayed, and that was why he had ridden in. The rancher received him with a scowl.

"Eden, I want a word with you," the cowboy said. "I'm goin' to put my cards on the table, an' you'd better look at 'em."

Very briefly he told the tale of his adventures to the time he joined the S-E outfit and the smile on the gambler's hps became more pronounced. When Sudden paused, he laughed outright.

"Damned good," he jeered. "You ought to be writing dime novels. Why didn't you come out with this fine story then?"

"I couldn't prove it," the cowboy said simply. "An' I wanted to get outa the country."

"I'll bet you did," came the jibe. "Besides, you were working for Rogue."

Sudden raised his shoulders. "This fella claims he's goin' to ranch near you," he said to Eden. "Did he mention his brand?" The old man shook his head. "Well, it don't signify—he told yore daughter. See here."

He picked up a half-burnt stick from the fire and in the sand at his feet traced the letters, S-E. Then he joined up the ends of both, turning them into 8-B.

"That's his iron," he said quietly. "Convenient, ain't it?'*

Baudry's expression of amused indifference vanished. "By heaven, Sam, I never thought of that," he cried. "Comes of not being a cattleman."

It was well done, but his laugh met with no response; brand-blotting was not a subject of mirth in that company.

"Yeah," Sudden said ironically. "While I was staying with Rogue, his men brought in a bunch o' cattie to brand. As I told you, they were feedin' me, so I did my share. They were supposed to be mavericks, but most of 'em was S-E when they was thrown an' 8-B when they got up."

"Which only proves that Rogue was taking advantage of my ignorance to sell me stolen steers," Baudry pointed out. "Till the other day I'd never seen the fellow. I let it be known I wanted stock and took it for granted they would be unmarked strays."

"Rogue told me a man was payin' him to bust this drive

an' was willin' to take all or any o' the herd," the cowboy went on. "Who gets yore ranch, Eden, if you fail to put yore cattle through?"

Baudry reached out a cigar, lit it, and laughed. "Dime novel stuff," he said. "Prove it." "Right," the other rejoined. "Eden, I want yore hoss-wrangler, RoUitt."

The foreman returned with the wrangler, whose shifty eyes widened when he saw the visitors. "You wantin' me?" he asked his employer.

"How long you been in with Rogue?" "Ain't never," he growled. "What you gettin' at?" "The truth," Sudden retorted. A gun seemed to leap into his hand. "RoUitt, I'm givin' you a chance to come clean. If you don't, I'll kill you." The cold, merciless tone drove the threat home. The wrangler's gaze traveled round the circle of faces. "Nobody can help you," the icy voice went on. "Whatever happens to me, you'll be as dead as Moses."