The Max Brand Megapack. Max Brand
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Morgan loudest of all.
“Did you anyways have Whistlin’ Dan in mind?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t,” said Mike, “an’ I didn’t say this here man I was talkin’ about could drill them every time. But he could do it two times out of four.”
“Mike,” said Morgan, and he softened his disbelief with his smile and the good-natured clap on the shoulder, “you sure must of been drinkin’ when you seen him do it. I allow Whistlin’ Dan could do that an’ more, but he ain’t human with a gun.”
“How d’you know?” asked Jack, “I ain’t ever seen him packin’ a six-gun.”
“Sure you ain’t,” answered Morgan, “but I have, an’ I seen him use it, too. It was jest sort of by chance I saw it.”
“Well,” argued Mike anxiously, “then you allow it’s possible if Whistlin’ Dan can do it. An’ I say I seen a chap who could turn the trick.”
“An’ who in hell is this Whistlin’ Dan?” asked Jim Silent.
“He’s the man that caught Satan, an’ rode him,” answered a bystander.
“Some man if he can ride the devil,” laughed Lee Haines.
“I mean the black mustang that ran wild around here for a couple of years. Some people tell tales about him being a wonder with a gun. But Morgan’s the only one who claims to have seen him work.”
“Maybe you did see it, and maybe you didn’t,” Morgan was saying to Mike noncommittally, “but there’s some pretty fair shots in this room, which I’d lay fifty bucks no man here could hit a dollar with a six-gun at twenty paces.”
“While they’re arguin’,” said Bill Kilduff, “I reckon I’ll hit the trail.”
“Wait a minute,” grinned Jim Silent, “an’ watch me have some fun with these short-horns.”
He spoke more loudly: “Are you makin’ that bet for the sake of arguin’, partner, or do you calculate to back it up with cold cash?”
Morgan whirled upon him with a scowl, “I ain’t pulled a bluff in my life that I can’t back up!” he said sharply.
“Well,” said Silent, “I ain’t so flush that I’d turn down fifty bucks when a kind Christian soul, as the preachers say, slides it into my glove. Not me. Lead out the dollar, pal, an’ kiss it farewell!”
“Who’ll hold the stakes?” asked Morgan.
“Let your friend Mike,” said Jim Silent carelessly, and he placed fifty dollars in gold in the hands of the Irishman. Morgan followed suit. The crowd hurried outdoors.
A dozen bets were laid in as many seconds. Most of the men wished to place their money on the side of Morgan, but there were not a few who stood willing to risk coin on Jim Silent, stranger though he was. Something in his unflinching eye, his stern face, and the nerveless surety of his movements commanded their trust.
“How do you stand, Jim?” asked Lee Haines anxiously. “Is it a safe bet? I’ve never seen you try a mark like this one!”
“It ain’t safe,” said Silent, “because I ain’t mad enough to shoot my best, but it’s about an even draw. Take your pick.”
“Not me,” said Haines, “if you had ten chances instead of one I might stack some coin on you. If the dollar were stationary I know you could do it, but a moving coin looks pretty small.”
“Here you are,” called Morgan, who stood at a distance of twenty paces, “are you ready?”
Silent whipped out his revolver and poised it. “Let ’er go!”
The coin whirled in the air. Silent fired as it commenced to fall—it landed untouched.
“As a kind, Christian soul,” said Morgan sarcastically, “I ain’t in your class, stranger. Charity always sort of interests me when I’m on the receivin’ end!”
The crowd chuckled, and the sound infuriated Silent.
“Don’t go back jest yet, partners,” he drawled. “Mister Morgan, I got one hundred bones which holler that I can plug that dollar the second try.”
“Boys,” grinned Morgan, “I’m leavin’ you to witness that I hate to do it, but business is business. Here you are!”
The coin whirled again. Silent, with his lips pressed into a straight line and his brows drawn dark over his eyes, waited until the coin reached the height of its rise, and then fired—missed—fired again, and sent the coin spinning through the air in a flashing semicircle. It was a beautiful piece of gun-play. In the midst of the clamour of applause Silent strode towards Morgan with his hand outstretched.
“After all,” he said. “I knowed you wasn’t really hard of heart. It only needed a little time and persuasion to make you dig for coin when I pass the box.”
Morgan, red of face and scowling, handed over his late winnings and his own stakes.
“It took you two shots to do it,” he said, “an’ if I wanted to argue the pint maybe you wouldn’t walk off with the coin.”
“Partner,” said Jim Silent gently, “I got a wanderin’ hunch that you’re showin’ a pile of brains by not arguin’ this here pint!”
There followed that little hush of expectancy which precedes trouble, but Morgan, after a glance at the set lips of his opponent, swallowed his wrath.
“I s’pose you’ll tell how you did this to your kids when you’re eighty,” he said scornfully, “but around here, stranger, they don’t think much of it. Whistlin’ Dan”—he paused, as if to calculate how far he could safely exaggerate—“Whistlin’ Dan can stand with his back to the coins an’ when they’re thrown he drills four dollars easier than you did one—an’ he wouldn’t waste three shots on one dollar. He ain’t so extravagant!”
CHAPTER IV
SOMETHING YELLOW
The crowd laughed again at the excitement of Morgan, and Silent’s mirth particularly was loud and long.
“An’ if you’re still bent on charity,” he said at last, “maybe we could find somethin’ else to lay a bet on!”
“Anything you name!” said Morgan hotly.
“I suppose,” said Silent, “that you’re some rider, eh?”
“I c’n get by with most of ’em.”
“Yeh—I suppose you never pulled leather in your life?”
“Not any hoss that another man could ride straight up.”
“Is that so? Well, partner, you see that roan over there?”
“That tall horse?”
“You got him. You c’n win back that hundred if you stick on his back two minutes. D’you take it?”
Morgan hesitated a moment. The big roan was footing it nervously here and there, sometimes throwing up his head suddenly after the manner of a horse of bad temper. However, the loss of that hundred dollars and the humiliation which accompanied it, weighed heavily on the saloon owner’s mind.
“I’ll take you,” he said.
A high, thrilling whistle came faintly from the distance.
“That fellow on the black horse down the road,” said Lee Haines, “I guess he’s the one that can hit the four dollars? Ha! ha! ha!”
“Sure,” grinned Silent, “listen to his whistle! We’ll see if we can drag another bet out of the bar-keep if the roan doesn’t hurt him too bad. Look at him now!”
Morgan was having a bad time getting his foot in the stirrup, for