CHAPTER XV
VILLAINY UNMASKED
Pendleton, bouncing in his saddle as they galloped southward, bentadmiring glances upon the erect figure of his companion, whose seat wasas steady as if horse and rider had been welded together. "Say, Curt,"he finally called out, "how do you do it? I'd give my bad lung if Icould ride like you."
Conrad gave him some instruction, and Pendleton turned all his attentiontoward learning how to bring his body into rhythmic accord with themovements of his horse. The cattleman, pounding along in silence,thought with satisfaction of the progress his search for Delafield wasmaking and planned how he should carry it on after the round-up, when hewould have more leisure. He would make a list of the men in New Mexicorich and prominent enough to come under suspicion, investigate theirrecords, one by one, and so by elimination discover the person hewanted. Then would come the meeting!
His thoughts full of the climax of his search, he rode on in a sort ofexaltation, unconsciously humming a song he and Lucy Bancroft had beenpractising. Presently, through the silence, the sound entered hisconscious hearing, and took his thoughts back to the pleasant hour heand she had spent over it. But a vague uneasiness stirred his feelingsas the image of Lucy floated past the background of that grisly,dominating purpose. The thought of her persisted; as it clung there,along the edge of his absorption, it brought a sharp and curioussuggestion of the maimed bird he had carried in his bosom. He wassuddenly conscious of discomfort, as if he had hurt some helpless thing,when his reverie was broken by a series of wild yells from hiscompanion. Pendleton had been lagging behind, but he now came dashingforward, giving vent to his delight because he had so far mastered theart of riding that he no longer bounced all over the horse's back norfell forward and seized its mane at each change of gait.
A spring welled alluringly from a dimple in the hillside. Pendletondismounted, saying he was thirsty. "Don't drink from that spring,Pendy," Conrad admonished him. "It's alkali, and you'll wish youhadn't."
"It looks all right, and it's cool," said the tenderfoot, dipping hishand in the water. "My throat's as hot and dry as that road. What harmwill it do?"
"Well, pretty soon you'll think you're chewing cotton; and it may makeyou sick, though this spring isn't strong enough of alkali to do youmuch harm."
"I'll risk it," Pendleton declared, scooping up some water in hishat-brim. "It's wet when it goes down, anyway. And I reckon I might aswell take in an alkali spring, too, while I've got the chance.Everything goes!" An hour later he galloped alongside of Conrad, workinghis jaws and licking his lips. "Say, Curt," he mumbled, "I know a fellowback home who'd give a thousand dollars for such a thirst as I've got!"
It was midnight when they passed Rock Springs, where the superintendenthad left his outfit. Two hours later, when Brown Betty put out her noseand neighed, an answering whinny came back from beyond the next hill."That's only Five Cottonwoods," thought Curtis. "It can't be they've gotno farther than that!" They gained the top of the hill and below them,in the light of the waning moon, they saw the white top of thechuck-wagon, the dark patch of sleeping cattle patrolled by a singlehorseman, and the figures of the men sprawled on the ground around thedying coals of their evening fire.
"Here we are, Pendy!" said Curtis. "I thought they would have gotfarther than this, and that we'd have at least two hours more of travel.Now we'll have time for a little sleep before you begin busting thosebroncs."
They stretched themselves on the ground and almost instantly fellasleep. But it was not long before Conrad, rousing suddenly, sprang tohis feet, realizing even before he was fairly awake that the cattle werestampeding. From down the hill came a thundering, rushing sound, thenoise of hundreds of hoofs pounding the ground. He called his foreman,seized his saddle, and rushed to the bunch of tethered cow-ponies,Peters, Texas Bill, Red Jack, and Jose Gonzalez close behind. As theydashed after the flying herd Curtis could see in the dim light thefigure of the cowboy who had been patrolling the sleeping cattle. He wasfollowing the stampede at what his employer thought a leisurely pace.
"Who was riding herd?" he yelled to Peters, who replied, "Andy Miller."
"Is he trying to drive them farther away?" Conrad muttered angrily,pressing home his spur.
The cattle tore wildly down the hill, but at its foot their leadersturned up the course of the dry shallow valley instead of pressing upthe other side. The men saw the movement, and by cutting across thehillside gained rapidly upon the fleeing animals. As they passed AndyMiller, Curtis shouted to him that he might return to the camp, as theyshould not need him. The draw soon began to grow deeper and narrower,and the dense mass of cattle was forced to lessen its pace. Conradremembered that farther on the valley came to an abrupt end against asteep rise. If the brutes stayed in it a little longer they would not beable to get out, and when they came to the end of this blind alley ofthe hills they would have to stop. So he and his companions gallopedeasily along beside the shadowy stream of moving backs with its spray oftossing horns that filled the draw, and presently found the leaders,their heads to the bluff, chewing their cuds as quietly as if they hadnever been frightened in all their lives.
As they rode back to camp behind the staidly moving herd, Conrad askedPeters if he knew what caused the stampede. The foreman did not know, hehad been sound asleep when it began. But he went on to tell an excitedtale of mysterious accidents that had followed close upon one anotherever since the morning of the superintendent's departure. Only the edgeof the sand-storm through which he had ridden touched them, though ithad kept them in camp all day. Nevertheless, there had been twostampedes, and they had had much trouble getting the brutes togetheragain. Every day since there had been at least one stampede of the herd.He and the others had been kept busy gathering in the flying cattle.This was why they had got no farther than Five Cottonwoods. It seemed asif the devil himself had taken possession of every cow-brute on therange; never in all his years as a cow-puncher had he had such a time.
"Don't you know what starts them?"
"That's the mischief of it. Nobody ever knows. The darned critters justget up and hike. Some of the boys are gettin' skeery about it, andthey're likely to pull their freight if it keeps up. They're tellin'ghost stories now after supper, and Andy Miller has been reelin' offthe whoppin'est yarns ever you heard. Between the ghost stories and theway the cow-brutes act the boys are gettin' plumb fidgety, and I'mmighty glad you've got back."
"How does Andy get on with the work? Does he _sabe_?"
"Yes; he's first rate; the best we've got, except Jose. But Andy doeshave main bad luck with the cow-brutes. This makes four times they'vestampeded under him."
Promise of day was flushing the eastern sky and faintly warming the graysemi-darkness when Pendleton's eyes flew open, to instant conviction ofillness. From head to foot he ached with weariness, and he feltwretchedly sick. For a moment he kept quiet, feeling that it would bemore comfortable to lie still and die than to try to move. But presentlyhe thought, "I'll never live to die of consumption if I don't get upquick and find my whiskey!"
He scrambled to his feet and looked around. Not nearly so many men werestretched on the ground as he had expected to see, and his friend wasnot in sight. He looked for his saddle-bags, where he kept his flask.Conrad had taken them from the horse when they unsaddled, and Pendletonhad not noticed what he did with them. He could not find the bags,everybody left in camp was sound asleep, and Curtis had disappeared.Wrapped in his blanket he was wandering around forlornly, squirming withpain, when he saw some one moving in the group of horses farther downthe hill. He started in that direction and saw the man stoop besideConrad's mare, Brown Betty.
"Hello, pard! Where's Curt?" Pendleton called loudly. The manstraightened up quickly, and put away a knife. He looked at the curiousfigure coming toward him, and burst into a loud guffaw. "Gee whillikens,stranger! where'd you drop from?" he shouted back.
Pendleton explained, and asked the other to help him find hissaddle-bags. They were discovered in the chuck
-wagon, and the invalidoffered his flask, with a cordial admonition to "drink hearty, pard."The cowboy responded literally, and made several other visits to thesaddle-bags before breakfast. By that time he was good-naturedlyobstreperous, and had the camp in an uproar with his horse-play andnoisy pranks. Conrad asked Peters where Andy got his whiskey. Theforeman did not know, and said that this was the first time he had shownany signs of drink. The superintendent went to Pendleton.
"Has Andy Miller been taking a pull at your flask?"
"The cow-punch that's feeling so happy? Sure, Curt. He helped me find mysaddle-bags, and I thought I'd be sociable with him. I told him to drinkhearty; and by thunder, Curt! you ought to have seen him. He sure had aworse thirst on him than I had yesterday."
"I'll have to ask you not to do it again with any of them. And you'dbetter let me put your flask in a locked box I have in the chuck-wagon,if you don't carry it in your pocket, or you may not have any left bynight."
Gonzalez came up with a question, and Conrad remembered the letter hehad for him. The Mexican took it with an unconcerned face, and went offbehind the chuck-wagon. "I don't need to see the inside of it," thoughtCurtis; "but I'd like to all the same. Well, he'll be all right now, andI'm glad of it, for I'd hate to have to kill as good a roper as he is."
A few minutes later Jose strolled toward the cook's fire, twisting theletter in his fingers. He was about to thrust it into the coals whenAndy Miller jumped at him with a yell, and caught his hand. "Here, boys;Jose's got a love letter! Let's read it!" he shouted. Gonzalez resisted;Miller bore him down; and they rolled, struggling, over the ground.Jose's dark face was pale with anger and his teeth were set as hegripped the bit of paper in one fist and pummelled Andy's face with theother. Miller tried to shield himself from the blows with his arms,while he bent his energies to getting possession of the letter.
"You're fightin', Andy; don't fergit to punch!" yelled Nosey Ike fromthe group of cowboys looking on. Miller was the stronger of the two, andalmost had the Mexican in his power when Conrad came beside them,saying, "If you want the letter burned, Jose, give it to me."
Gonzalez cast at him one doubtful, desperate look, and threw the twistedpaper toward him. The superintendent thrust it in the fire, and he andPeters separated the two men. Gonzalez flashed at him a look ofgratitude and walked away without a word.
"Andy," said Conrad, "you're making too much trouble this morning. Ifyou want to work with this outfit you've got to keep straight. If youdon't want to do that you can pull your freight right now."
The man turned away sullenly. "I'm not ready to pull my freight yet," hemuttered. The other cowboys were saddling their ponies and making readyto begin the day's work. The bunched cattle, with the red rays of themorning sun warm upon their backs, were quietly grazing a little waydown the hillside. Andy Miller started toward his horse, but turned andran rapidly at the cattle. No one noticed what he was doing until, in amoment more, he was jumping, yelling, and swinging his hat at the edgeof the herd. Snorting with sudden surprise and fright, the beasts wereaway again as though fiends were at their tails. Conrad rushed for hishorse, but Peters, already mounted, yelled that they would not need him;and the foreman, with half a dozen others, dashed after the stampede.
Andy Miller was coming slowly back, now and then stopping to smite histhigh and laugh. Curtis walked out to meet him. "Andy," he said, "Ireckon I don't need you any longer. You can take your time this morning.Here's your money."
The cowboy looked up, grinning, and thrust the bills in his pocket.Then, as quickly and lightly as a cat, he sprang upon the superintendentand pulled him down. Conrad, taken completely by surprise, with his leftarm in a sling and at something less than his best of strength, for amoment could do nothing but struggle in the other's grasp. Miller washolding him, face downward, across one advanced leg, when Pendleton,still wrapped in his blanket, bustled up to see what was happening. Withupraised hand, Miller yelled:
"Now, then, you'll get it back, every darn' spank, an' more too! Jenkinsain't big enough to spank you himself, but I can do it for him!" Hishand descended, but into an enveloping blanket suddenly thrown over himfrom behind, muffling head, body, and arms.
"I've got him, Curt! Get up, quick, and we'll do him up!" shouted thetenderfoot as he twisted the blanket around Andy's struggling figure.
Conrad wrenched himself free and sprang up, his face white. "Let him up,Pendy," he said, drawing his revolver. The other unwound the blanket,and Miller scrambled out, blinking and cursing. "You make tracks out ofthis camp as fast as you can go," said Curtis, "and don't let me catchyou within gunshot of this outfit again! Clear out, this minute, damnyou!"
Miller walked away in silence toward his staked horse, the two menfollowing him part way down the hill.
"He'd better clear out before the boys get back, if he wants to keep asound neck," said Conrad, his revolver in hand and his eyes on theretreating cowboy. "I understand it all now. And it was a lucky thing,Pendy, that you gave him that whiskey this morning; it got him justdrunk enough to show his hand. If it hadn't been for that I might nothave caught on till he'd done the Lord knows how much mischief. It'sjust like that damned skunk, Jenkins, to go at it in this sneaking,underhand way. He's not through with me yet!"
They watched while Miller saddled his horse, hung his rope at thesaddle-horn, and mounted. Then they turned back toward the camp, butpresently, at a whinny from Brown Betty, Curtis faced about. Miller hadridden to where she was standing, a little apart from the other horses,had leaped to the ground, and was making toward her hind-quarters. Hisbody was in profile, and as he stretched out his arm Conrad saw theflash of sunlight upon a knife blade. Instantly his arm swung upward,and there was an answering flash from the muzzle of his revolver. Thereport boomed across the valley, and Andy's right arm dropped. He rushedtoward them, yelling foul names, but halted when he saw the pistollevelled at his breast.
"No more tricks, Andy," called the superintendent, "or it'll be throughyour heart next time. Git, right now!"
From up the valley came the shouts of the men. They had turned thecattle and were hurrying them back to camp. Miller cast one quick glancein their direction, and leaped to his saddle. He made a wide detour, thetail of his eye on Conrad's gun, and galloped away on the road overwhich the outfit had come. The others trooped up where Curtis andPendleton, at the top of the hill, were watching his lessening figure.
"Boys," said the ranchman, "that's the chap that's been stampeding thecattle!" Peters swore a mouth-filling oath and smote his thigh. "He wasjust on the point of ham-stringing Brown Betty," Curtis went on, hiseyes blazing, "and I put a bullet through his arm barely in time toprevent it."
A light broke upon Pendleton. "Darn my skin, if that wasn't the trickthe critter was up to this morning, when he saw me and stopped!"
"Let's go after him, boys!" shouted Peters. The group of riders shotforward, like racers starting at the word, and thundered down the roadafter the culprit. Conrad looked after them grimly, his eyes flashingblue fire, and Pendleton, wrapped in his blanket again, danced about andyelled, "Go it, boys, go it! I wish I was with you!"
For an hour they chased him. He, knowing what his fate would be if hefell into their hands, put spurs to his horse until he brought out itsutmost speed. Having so much the start he kept well in the lead, andfinally they gave it up and returned to camp.
With his left arm still in a sling and his shoulder bandaged, Conradkept at the head of the round-up, which went on without furtheraccident. He was too busy to think of the pain, except at night, when itoften kept him awake. At such times his mind was sure to busy itself,sooner or later, with the trailing of Delafield, reaching out in everydirection for some clew to guide his next step. By some trick ofsubconscious mental action, thoughts of Lucy Bancroft began to intrudeupon his mind when it was thus engaged. It pleased him well enough tothink of Lucy at other times, of her bright, piquant face, of thepositive opinions she was in the habit of pronouncing with thatindependent little toss of her c
urly head, and of her dimpling smiles.But it annoyed him that the thought of her should come into conflictwith his one absorbing idea. And, just because he had been consciouslydisturbed by it twice or thrice, association of ideas brought back theimage more and more frequently. Once, when he had been vainly wooingsleep for an hour, he caught himself wondering what Lucy would say aboutthe Delafield affair. He muttered an angry oath at himself, and with amighty effort put both subjects out of his mind. It was not until theyreached Pelham, the railway station whence the cattle were to beshipped, that his shoulder became free enough from pain for him to sinkinto sleep as soon as he lay down; and thereafter his mind forbore itsirritating trick.
During all that time, although Conrad did not believe he had anything tofear from Jose Gonzalez, he never left his revolver out of easy reach,and never turned his back upon the Mexican. But Gonzalez kept on his wayas calmly and apparently as unconsciously as if he had had no part inthat episode beside the pool at Rock Springs. Near the end of theshipping Curtis asked him if he would like steady work at the ranch.
The Mexican gave a little astonished start and cast at thesuperintendent a glance of suspicion. Conrad frowned and his eyesflashed. Then he grinned good-naturedly, showing his strong white teethunder his sunburned moustache. "That's all right, Jose. I'm not thatsort. As long as you behave yourself I'm your friend. If you don't, I'vetold you what will happen. You've struck my gait in the cow business,and I want to keep you. If you want to stay you can understand right nowthat you run no risks, unless you make 'em yourself."
Gonzalez threw at him a keen glance. "You know I have nothing againstyou, Don Curtis," he began, hesitating a moment before he went on; "Ilike to work for you very well, senor, and I will stay."