The Man From Bar-20, Clarence E. Mulford [distant reading TXT] 📗
- Author: Clarence E. Mulford
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“Yo’re a purty spry scalper yoreself,” admitted Johnny. “Regular old he-whizzer; but you got no morals, an’ a very bad, disgustin’ habit. I’m surprised you didn’t take scalps, too !”
“You let the Colonel alone,” warned Luke. “Now, that rustler is some he-whizzer hisself, an’ he won’t need nobody to tell him what he saw. He’s done told his tribe about that; an’ bein’ a stranger here I’m only guessin’. Say what’s on yore mind.”
“Th’ young buck will now talk at th’ council fire,” grinned Johnny. “Yo’re right, for once. It wasn’t th’ cook. I never saw a cook yet that could move around so nobody could hear him. It wasn’t Gates, because he’s wounded several; an’ I don’t think it was that other feller, because somehow I ain’t feverishly ad-mirin’ his brains. That leaves Quigley; an’ he ain’t no fool all th’ time. I can see him beatin’ hell an’ high-water to his three stone shacks, where his friends are, an’ where his guns, grub, clothes, an’ other things are. I can see four men lookin’ out of four loopholes. They are if they ain’t jumped th’ country; an’ if they has, we’ll let ‘em go.
“Takin’ a new, fresh holt, I’d say that they don’t know that we’d let ‘em go; an’ they don’t know how many we are, or where all of us are located. They don’t aim to lead us a chase; that is, mebby they don’t. Them shacks are shore strong; an’ they don’t know how far they might get if they run for it. ‘Tain’t like open country—they got just four places to ride out of that sink an’ they all can be easy guarded.”
“They won’t come out th’ way they went in,” said Luke. “That would be risky an’ foolish; so they’s only three places left.”
“A wise man never does what he ought to do,” said Johnny. “Now, I’ll bet they are either in them stone houses, or some place else,” he grinned. “Th’ only way, after all, to see a good man’s hand, is to call it. Me an’ you, bein’ amazin’ curious, will do just that. If they’re in them houses they’ll be expectin’ us; they’ll turn th’ ‘ Welcome’ sign to th’ wall an’ smoke up them loopholes. Don’t interrupt me yet! I’m long-winded an’ hard to stop. Th’ question is: Are you primed to wrastle this thing out, just me an’ you, or shall I watch ‘em while you go back to th’ CL for help? That—”
“I will interrupt!” snorted Luke heatedly. “If it wasn’t that yo’re only a fool infant, d—d if I wouldn’t fan yore saddle end! I ain’t never yelled for help when it wasn’t needed; an’ lots of times when it was needed I forgot to yell. Too busy, mebby. You’ve been running things with a high hand out here, an’ yore head reminds me of th’ head of a cow bit by a snake. It’s swelled scandalous. I’m goin’ to show you how to get four men out of them loopholes. Bein’ young an’ green, you’d likely want to crawl in an’ pull ‘em out. But me, bein’ wise, will use brains, an’ more brains. I can make a cat skin itself.”
“You want to be plumb shore that it ain’t one of them striped kitties — they look a lot alike in a poor light; an’ that entrance canyon is shore poor light. I reckon we won’t eat, yet. We better rustle for their ranch.”
“But Logan wants to know them facts that he sent us after,” growled Luke regretfully.
“We ain’t got ‘em; an’ we can’t get ‘em. Them fellers won’t do no rustlin’ now, so how can we trail ‘em? They’re too cussed busy lookin’ out for their skins about now. An’ only two of ‘em ain’t wounded; Purdy an’ th’ cook.”
“How many cows they got?”
“Near two hundred.”
“Holy Jumpin’ Jerusalem!” snorted Luke. “We’re lucky that we still got th’ ranchhouse an’ th’ river!”
“We’re wastin’ time,” growled Johnny, impatiently. “There’s no telling what they’re doin’. Come on. Bein’ desperate, mebby they’re roundin’ up to make a drive. Come on!”
It was past mid-afternoon when the two punchers looked down into the QE valley and found relief at the sight of the cows lazily feeding. They were scattered all over the range and both men knew that no attempt had been made to round them up.
Going down the blind-canyon trail, they crossed the range, climbed the opposite cliff and finally stopped in front of the stone houses. A gun barrel projected from a loophole in the south wall of the house nearest the canyon, and four saddled horses were in the smaller corral.
“There they are,” said Johnny. A bullet stirred his hair and he drew back from the rim. “We got to get ‘em. Start skinnin’ that cat, Old Timer.”
“It’ll shore take a lot of skinnin’,” growled Luke.
“Not if we uses ‘brains an’ more brains,’” jeered Johnny. “Th’ young buck will now be heard shootin’ off his mouth at th’ council fire; an’ you listen close, One Ijut!”
“Have yore say,” said Luke, covering a loophole which showed signs of activity.
“We’ve got to move fast, before they learn that there’s only two of us,” said Johnny. “When them houses was built they was laid out with th’ idea of men bein’ in all of ‘em; an’ they’d be cussed hard to lick, then. But I reckon they’re all in that one house. There ain’t men enough to hold ‘em all; an’ so they favored th’ one near th’ canyon. We got to keep that door shut so they can’t get out an’ away. I’ll do that after dark; an’ I’ll stampede them cayuses. That leaves ‘em no chance to make a dash an’ ride for it. Now you see that little trickle of water flowin’ under th’ houses? That’s their water supply; I know something about that crick; but that’s another job for th’ dark. Take a look over there, where it turns. See that dirt bank, on th’ bend ? That’s where they turned it out of its course an’ sent it flowin’ in th’ ditch leadin’ to th’ houses. Do you reckon you could cut that bank with Colonel Bowie an’ throw a little dam across th’ ditch ? ‘Tain’t wide; only a couple of feet. I—”
Luke fired, and grunted regretfully. “Missed him, d—n it!” he swore, reloading. “Gettin’ so you can find work for my knife, huh?” he chuckled. “Not bein’ blind, I see th’ bank an’ th’ bend. An’ if I can’t turn that water back th’ way it used to go, I’ll fold up an’ die. This is like old times. You must V had a real elegant, bang-up time out here, crawlin’ around an’ raisin’ h—l with ‘em. What a grand place for th’ Colonel! I shore missed a lot; but I’m here now, an’ with both feet! Sing yore song; I’m listenin’.”
“It’s sung,” grinned Johnny; “an’ now we got to dance.”
“I ain’t as spry as I used to be,” grunted Luke; “so I’ll have to make them fellers do th’ dancin’.”
GATES, the wounded, tossed restlessly in his bunk, and finally rolled over and faced the dark room.
“Never was so wide awake in my life,” he grumbled. “Been settin’ around too much lately. If I wanted to stay awake I’d be as sleepy as th’ devil.”
“Better try it again,” counseled Quigley, shifting from his loophole. “You don’t want to be sleepy tomorrow when yo’re on guard.”
“Tom,” said Gates, ignoring the advice. “I’ve been doin’ some thinkin’. A feller does a lot of thinkin’ when he can’t sleep. We made a couple of mistakes, holin’ up like this. In th’ first place, if we had to hole up, we should ‘a’ occupied both end houses, ‘stead of only one. This way, they can walk right up to within twenty feet of us, use th’ cook shack, th’ grub in th’ store-house, an’ them store-house loopholes, which is worse. If we had both end houses, two men in each, they couldn’t get anywhere close to us except along th’ crick an’ up on th’ cliff.”
“Yes; I reckon so,” said Quigley. “‘Tain’t too late yet, mebby. I didn’t like th’ idea of splittin’ up our forces. As far as grub is concerned, we’re near as well off that way as we are in our water supply. We got grub in here for two months, an’ plenty of cartridges if we don’t get reckless with ‘em. Of course, I wish that other case was in here, too; it’d give us another thousand rounds for th’ rifles; but I ain’t worryin’ none about that. An’ I’m purty near shore, now, that there’s only two of ‘em fightin’ us: Nelson an’ that Tedrue, judgin’ from th’ knife-work.”
“That’s th’ way I figger it,” agreed Gates. “An’ that’s why we shouldn’t ‘a’ holed up like this. Me an’ th’ cook could ‘a’ held this house, while you an’ Purdy was on th’ outside stalkin’ ‘em. Any man that can stalk like you can is plumb wastin’ his time cooped up in here; an’ you could ‘a’ made things sizzlin’ hot for them two fellers, good as they are. This way, they’ve got us located, an’ they only have to look for trouble in front of ‘em. They know where to expect it all th’ time. It was a big mistake.”
“Mebby,” grunted Quigley. “We’ll try it in here tonight an’ tomorrow, an’ then if we don’t have no luck, I’ll fade away tomorrow night an’ give ‘em a taste of Injun fightin’. There ain’t no moon this week, so we can pick our time to suit ourselves.”
Purdy leaned his rifle against the wall and groped for the water bucket. “I’ll make a try for that extra case of cartridges right now, if you say th’ word,” he offered. “Huh! We shore drink a lot of water,” he grunted “I filled this pail before sundown, an’ it’s near empty now. Too much bacon, I reckon.”
Quigley laughed softly. “Water is one thing we don’t have to worry about at all. That ditch was a great idea.”
Could he have followed the ditch in the dark he would have been surprised to have seen the dam across it, and the cut through the artificial bank, where Luke Tedrue and a commandeered shovel had released the little stream and let it flow to Rustler Creek along its old, original bed down a shallow gully. That was Johnny’s idea; but after the old scout had carried it out, he had an idea of his own which pleased him greatly, and he acted upon it without loss of time.
The cook stirred and sat up, feeling for his pipe, which was always his first act upon awakening. He grunted sleepily and sat on the edge of his bunk. “This is a whole lot like bein’ in jail,” he yawned. “An’ what do you think? I dreamed that somebody had just tapped a keg of beer, an’ when I sidled over to see that none of it was wasted, why I woke up! That’s allus my luck. How soon’ll it be daylight? That dream made me thirsty. Where’s that cussed water bucket?”
“Right where it was th’ last time you found it,” grinned Purdy. “It ain’t moved none at all.” “Yo’re right, it ain’t,” grumbled the cook, scraping a tin cup across the bottom of the pail. “It never does unless I do
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