The Max Brand Megapack. Max Brand
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hoss of his. Which he’s made a plumb fool of me, Dan. Now I was tellin’ him about you—maybe I was sort of exaggeratin’—an’ I said you could have your back turned when the coins was tossed an’ then pick off four dollars before they hit the ground. I made it a bit high, Dan?”
His eyes were wistful.
“Nick four round boys before they hit the dust?” said Dan. “Maybe I could, I don’t know. I can’t try it, anyway, Morgan, because I told Dad Cumberland I’d never pull a gun while there was a crowd aroun’.”
Morgan sighed; he hesitated, and then: “But you promised you’d do me a favour, Dan?”
The rider started.
“I forgot about that—I didn’t think——”
“It’s only to do a shootin’ trick,” said Morgan eagerly. “It ain’t pullin’ a gun on any one. Why, lad, if you’ll tell me you got a ghost of a chance, I’ll bet every cent in my cash drawer on you agin that skunk! You’ve give me your word, Dan.”
Whistling Dan shrugged his shoulders.
“I’ve given you my word,” he said, “an’ I’ll do it. But I guess Dad Cumberland’ll be mighty sore on me.”
A laugh rose from the crowd at Morgan’s place, which they were nearing rapidly. It was like a mocking comment on Dan’s speech. As they came closer they could see money changing hands in all directions.
“What’d you do to my hoss?” asked Jim Silent, walking out to meet them.
“He hypnotized him,” said Hal Purvis, and his lips twisted over yellow teeth into a grin of satisfaction.
“Git out of the saddle damn quick,” growled Silent. “It ain’t nacheral he’d let you ride him like he was a plough-hoss. An’ if you’ve tried any fancy stunts, I’ll——”
“Take it easy,” said Purvis as Dan slipped from the saddle without showing the slightest anger. “Take it easy. You’re a bum loser. When I seen the black settle down to his work,” he explained to Dan with another grin, “I knowed he’d nail him in the end an’ I staked twenty on you agin my friend here! That was sure a slick change of hosses you made.”
There were other losers. Money chinked on all sides to an accompaniment of laughter and curses. Jim Silent was examining the roan with a scowl, while Bill Kilduff and Hal Purvis approached Satan to look over his points. Purvis reached out towards the bridle when a murderous snarl at his feet made him jump back with a shout. He stood with his gun poised, facing Black Bart.
“Who’s got any money to bet this damn wolf lives more’n five seconds?” he said savagely.
“I have,” said Dan.
“Who in hell are you? What d’you mean by trailing this man-killer around?”
He turned to Dan with his gun still poised.
“Bart ain’t a killer,” said Dan, and the gentleness of his voice was oil on troubled waters, “but he gets peeved when a stranger comes nigh to the hoss.”
“All right this time,” said Purvis, slowly restoring his gun to its holster, “but if this wolf of yours looks cross-eyed at me agin he’ll hit the long trail that ain’t got any end, savvy?”
“Sure,” said Dan, and his soft brown eyes smiled placatingly.
Purvis kept his right hand close to the butt of his gun and his eyes glinted as if he expected an answer somewhat stronger than words. At this mild acquiesence he turned away, sneering. Silent, having discovered that he could find no fault with Dan’s treatment of his horse, now approached with an ominously thin-lipped smile. Lee Haines read his face and came to his side with a whisper: “Better cut out the rough stuff, Jim. This chap hasn’t hurt anything but your cash, and he’s already taken water from Purvis. I guess there’s no call for you to make any play.”
“Shut your face, Haines,” responded Silent, in the same tone. “He’s made a fool of me by showin’ up my hoss, an’ by God I’m goin’ to give him a man-handlin’ he’ll never forgit.”
He whirled on Morgan.
“How about it, bar-keep, is this the dead shot you was spillin’ so many words about?”
Dan, as if he could not understand the broad insult, merely smiled at him with marvellous good nature.
“Keep away from him, stranger,” warned Morgan. “Jest because he rode your hoss you ain’t got a cause to hunt trouble with him. He’s been taught not to fight.”
Silent, still looking Dan over with insolent eyes, replied: “He sure sticks to his daddy’s lessons. Nice an’ quiet an’ house broke, ain’t he? In my part of the country they dress this kind of a man in gal’s clothes so’s nobody’ll ever get sore at him an’ spoil his pretty face. Better go home to your ma. This ain’t any place for you. They’s men aroun’ here.”
There was another one of those grimly expectant hushes and then a general guffaw; Dan showed no inclination to take offence. He merely stared at brawny Jim Silent with a sort of childlike wonder.
“All right,” he said meekly, “if I ain’t wanted around here I figger there ain’t any cause why I should stay. You don’t figger to be peeved at me, do you?”
The laughter changed to a veritable yell of delight. Even Silent smiled with careless contempt.
“No, kid,” he answered, “if I was peeved at you, you’d learn it without askin’ questions.”
He turned slowly away.
“Maybe I got jaundice, boys,” he said to the crowd, “but it seems to me I see something kind of yellow around here!”
The delightful subtlety of this remark roused another side-shaking burst of merriment. Dan shook his head as if the mystery were beyond his comprehension, and looked to Morgan for an explanation. The saloon-keeper approached him, struggling with a grin.
“It’s all right, Dan,” he said. “Don’t let ’em rile you.”
“You ain’t got any cause to fear that,” said Silent, “because it can’t be done.”
CHAPTER V
FOUR IN THE AIR
Dan looked from Morgan to Silent and back again for understanding. He felt that something was wrong, but what it was he had not the slightest idea. For many years old Joe Cumberland had patiently taught him that the last offence against God and man was to fight. The old cattleman had instilled in him the belief that if he did not cross the path of another, no one would cross his way. The code was perfect and satisfying. He would let the world alone and the world would not trouble him. The placid current of his life had never come to “white waters” of wrath.
Wherefore he gazed bewildered about him. They were laughing—they were laughing unpleasantly at him as he had seen men laugh at a fiery young colt which struggled against the rope. It was very strange. They could not mean harm. Therefore he smiled back at them rather uncertainly. Morgan slapped at his shoulder by way of good-fellowship and to hearten him, but Dan slipped away under the extended hand with a motion as subtle and swift as the twist of a snake when it flees for its hole. He had a deep aversion for contact with another man’s body. He hated it as the wild horse hates the shadow of the flying rope.
“Steady up, pal,” said Morgan, “the lads mean no harm. That tall man is considerable riled; which he’ll now bet his sombrero agin you when it comes to shootin’.”
He turned back to Silent.
“Look here, partner,” he said, “this is the man I said could nail the four dollars before they hit the dust. I figger you don’t think how it can be done, eh?”
“Him?” said Silent in deep disgust. “Send him back to his ma before somebody musses him all up! Why, he don’t