The Max Brand Megapack. Max Brand
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goin’ it a pile too hard,” said Shorty Rhinehart.
Every one of these speeches came sharply out while they glared at Jim Silent. Hands were beginning to fall to the hip and fingers were curving stiffly as if for the draw. Silent leaned his broad shoulders against the side of his roan and folded his arms. His eyes went round the circle slowly, lingering an instant on each face. Under that cold stare they grew uneasy. To Shorty Rhinehart it became necessary to push back his hat and scratch his forehead. Terry Jordan found a mysterious business with his bandana. Every one of them had occasion to raise his hand from the neighbourhood of his six-shooter. Silent smiled.
“A fine, hard crew you are,” he said sarcastically at last. “A great bunch of long riders, lettin’ a slip of a yaller-haired girl make fools of you. You over there—you, Shorty Rhinehart, you’d cut the throat of a man that looked crosswise at the Cumberland girl, wouldn’t you? An’ you, Purvis, you’re aching to get at me, ain’t you? An’ you’re still thinkin’ of them blue eyes, Jordan?”
Before any one could speak he poured in another volley between wind and water: “One slip of a girl can make fools out of five long riders? No, you ain’t long riders. All you c’n handle is hobby hosses!”
“What do you want us to do?” growled swarthy Bill Kilduff.
“Keep your face shut while I’m talkin’, that’s what I want you to do!”
There was a devil of rage in his eyes. His folded arms tugged at each other, and if they got free there would be gun play. The four men shrank, and he was satisfied.
“Now I’ll tell you what we’re goin’ to do,” he went on. “We’re goin’ out after Haines an’ the girl. If they come up with this Whistlin’ Dan we’re goin’ to surround him an’ fill him full of lead, while they’re talkin’.”
“Not for a million dollars!” burst in Hal Purvis.
“Not in a thousan’ years!” echoed Terry Jordan.
Silent turned his watchful eyes from one to the other. They were ready to fight now, and he sensed it at once.
“Why?” he asked calmly.
“It ain’t playin’ square with the girl,” announced Rhinehart.
“Purvis,” said Silent, for he knew that the opposition centred in the figure of the venomous little gun fighter; “if you seen a mad dog that was runnin’ straight at you, would you be kep’ from shootin’ it because a pretty girl hollered out an’ asked you not to?”
Their eyes shifted rapidly from one to another, seeking a way out, and finding none.
“An’ is there any difference between this hero Whistlin’ Dan an’ a mad dog?”
Still they were mute.
“I tell you, boys, we got a better chance of dodgin’ lightnin’ an’ puttin’ a bloodhound off our trail than we have of gettin’ rid of this Whistlin’ Dan. An’ when he catches up with us—well, all I’m askin’ is that you remember what he done to them four dollars before they hit the dust?”
“The chief’s right,” growled Kilduff, staring down at the ground. “It’s Whistlin’ Dan or us. The mountains ain’t big enough to hold him an’ us!”
* * * *
Before Whistling Dan the great wolf glided among the trees. For a full hour they had wandered through the willows in this manner, and Dan had made up his mind to surrender the search when Bart, returning from one of his noiseless detours, sprang out before his master and whined softly. Dan turned, loosening his revolver in the holster, and followed Bart through the soft gloom of the tree shadows and the moonlight. His step was almost as silent as that of the slinking animal which went before. At last the wolf stopped and raised his head. Almost instantly Dan saw a man and a woman approaching through the willows. The moonlight dropped across her face. He recognized Kate, with Lee Haines walking a pace before her.
“Stand where you are,” he said.
Haines leaped to one side, his revolver flashing in his hand. Dan stepped out before them while Black Bart slunk close beside him, snarling softly.
He seemed totally regardless of the gun in Haines’s hand. His manner was that of a conqueror who had the outlaw at his mercy.
“You,” he said, “walk over there to the side of the clearing.”
“Dan!” cried Kate, as she went to him with extended arms.
He stopped her with a gesture, his eyes upon Haines, who had moved away.
“Watch him, Bart,” said Dan.
The black wolf ran to Haines and crouched snarling at his feet. The outlaw restored his revolver to his holster and stood with his arms folded, his back turned. Dan looked to Kate. At the meeting of their eyes she shrank a little. She had expected a difficult task in persuading him, but not this hard aloofness. She felt suddenly as if she were a stranger to him.
“How do you come here—with him?”
“He is my friend!”
“You sure pick a queer place to go walkin’ with him.”
“Hush, Dan! He brought me here to find you!”
“He brought you here?”
“Don’t you understand?”
“When I want a friend like him, I’ll go huntin’ for him myself; an’ I’ll pack a gun with me!”
That flickering yellow light played behind Dan’s eyes.
“I looked into his face—an’ he stared the other way.”
She made a little imploring gesture, but his hand remained on his hips, and there was no softening of his voice.
“What fetched you here?”
Every word was like a hand that pushed her farther away.
“Are you dumb, Kate? What fetched you here?”
“I have come to bring you home, Dan.”
“I’m home now.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s the roof of my house,” he jerked his hand towards the sky, “the mountain passes are my doors—an’ the earth is my floor.”
“No! no! We are waiting for you at the ranch.”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Dan, this wild trail has no end.”
“Maybe, but I know that feller can show me the way to Jim Silent, an’ now——”
He turned towards Haines as he spoke, but here a low, venomous snarl from Black Bart checked his words. Kate saw him stiffen—his lips parted to a faint smile—his head tilted back a little as if he listened intently, though she could hear nothing. She was not a yard from him, and yet she felt a thousand miles away. His head turned full upon her, and she would never forget the yellow light of his eyes.
“Dan!” she cried, but her voice was no louder than a whisper.
“Delilah!” he said, and leaped back into the shade of the willows.
Even as he sprang she saw the flash of the moonlight on his drawn revolver, and fire spat from it twice, answered by a yell of pain, the clang of a bullet on metal, and half a dozen shots from the woods behind her.
That word “Delilah!” rang in her brain to the exclusion of all the world. Vaguely she heard voices shouting—she turned a little and saw Haines facing her with his revolver in his hand, but prevented from moving by the wolf who crouched snarling at his feet. The order of his master kept him there even after that master was gone. Now men ran out into the clearing. A keen whistle sounded far off