THE TRAIL-BOSS TRIES HIS WAY
McCullough watched the racing horseman for a moment, a gleam of envious
appreciation in his eyes at the beautiful action of the black horse,
nodded in understanding of the rider's journey and wheeled abruptly to
give terse orders.
Charley swung into the saddle and started in a cloud of dust for the
Diamond L, to carry important news to Lukins and his outfit; two men
sullenly received their orders to stay behind for the protection of the
ranch and the care of Pete Holbrook, their feelings in no way relieved
by the remark of the trail-boss, prophesying that Kane and his gang
would be too busy in town to disturb the serenity of the Question-Mark.
The rest of the outfit, procuring certain necessaries for the visit to
Kane's headquarters, climbed into their saddles and followed their grim
and taciturn leader over the shortest way to town.
Far back on the west end of the northern chain of hills a Mexican
collapsed his telescope, hazarded a long-range shot at the hard-riding
Charley and, mounting in haste, sped to carry disturbing news to his
employer. The courier looked around as the singing lead raised a
puff of dust in front of him, snarled in the direction from whence
he thought it had come and, having no time for personal grievances,
leaned forward and quirted the horse to greater speed. Whirring across
the Diamond L range Charley caused another Mexican, watching from a
ridge overlooking the ranch buildings, to run to the waiting horse and
mount it, after which he delayed his departure until he saw the Diamond
L outfit string out into a race for town, whereupon he set a pace which
promised to hold him his generous lead.
In Mesquite a Mexican quirted a lathered horse for a final burst of
speed up the quiet street, flung himself through Kane's front door,
shouted a warning as he scrambled to his feet and dashed through the
partition door to make his report direct to his boss. As he bolted
out of sight behind the partition, other men popped from the building
like weasel-pursued rabbits from a warren and scurried over the town
to spread the alarm to those who were most vitally concerned by it.
Two streams forthwith flowed over their trails, the first and larger
heading for Kane's; the other, composed entirely of Mexicans, flowed
toward Red Frank's, which had been allotted the rôle of outlying
redoubt, to help keep harmless the broken ground between it and Kane's
front wall, and was now being put in shape to withstand a siege.
Around Kane's was the noisy activity of a beehive. Hurrying men pulled
thick planks from the piles under the floor and hauled them, on the
jump, to windows and doors, feeding them into eager hands inside the
building. Numbers of empty sacks grew amazingly bulky from the efforts
of sand shovelers and were carried, shoulder high, in an unending
line into the building. Great shutters were unfastened and swung away
from the outer walls, their cobwebbed loopholes soon to play their
ordained parts. A feverish squad emptied the stables of horses and
food, taking both into the dining-room, and returned, posthaste, to
remove doors and certain planks which turned the stables into sieves of
small use to an attacking force, even if they were won. That the need
for haste was pressing was proved by the sound of a handbell on the
roof, where a selected group of riflemen lay behind the double-planked
parapet to give warning, and exhibitions of long-range shooting. The
shovelers hurled their tools through open windows, the plank carriers
shoved the last board into the building and leaped to the shutters,
slamming them shut as they hastened along the side of the building,
and poured hastily through the front door, which now was protected
by a great, outer door of planks, mortised, bolted, and braced in
workman-like manner. From the roof sounded two heavy reports, and grim
iron tubes slid into loopholes along the walls. The bartenders carried
boxes of ammunition and spare weapons, leaving their offerings below
every oblong hole. To threaten Kane was one thing; to carry it to a
successful end, another.
Puffs of gray-white smoke broke unexpectedly from points around the
building, to thin out as they spread and drifted into oblivion. The
cracking of rifles and the echo-awakening, jarring reports of heavy
six-guns, were punctuated at intervals by the booming roar of old-time
buffalo guns, of caliber prodigious. Punchers, guns in their hands,
made the rounds of the town, going from building to building to pick
up any of Kane's men who might have loitered, or who planned to hide
out and open fire from the rear. Their efforts were not entirely
wasted, for although Kane's brood had flocked to its nest, there were
certain of the town's inhabitants who were neither flesh nor fish and
might become one or the other as expediency urged. These doubtful ones
were weeded out, disarmed, and escorted to their horses with stern
injunctions as to the speed of their departure and their continued
absence. Some of the neutrals, seeing that the mastery of the town at
present lay with the ranchmen, trimmed their sails for this wind and
numbered themselves with the offense in spirit if not in deeds. Of
these human pendulums Quayle had a fair mental list and the owners of
certain names were well watched.
The first day passed in perfecting plans, assigning men to strategic
stations, several of these vantage-points remaining tenantless during
the daylight hours because of the alertness and straight shooting
of the squad on Kane's roof, who speedily made themselves obnoxious
to the attackers. The owner of the freight wagon, remembering a
smooth-bore iron cannon of more than an inch caliber, a relic of the
prairie caravans which had followed the old Santa Fe and other trails a
generation past, exulted as he dragged it from its obscurity and spent
a busy hour scaling the rust from bore and touch-hole. Here was the
key to the situation, he boasted, and rammed home a generous charge
of rifle powder. To find a suitable missile was another question, but
he solved it by falling upon bar-lead with ax and hammer. Wheeled
into position, its rusty length protruding beyond the corner of an
adobe building, it was sighted by spasmodic glances, an occupation
not without danger, for which blame could be given to the argus-eyed
riflemen on the roof of the target. Consternation seized the defenders,
who had not allowed for artillery, and they awaited its thundering
début with palpitant interest.
The discoverer and groom of the relic was unanimously elected gunner,
not a dissenting voice denying his right to the honor, a right which
he failed either to mention or press. The powder heaped over the
touch-hole was jarred off by the impact of a Sharp's bullet and to
replace it required a kitchen spoon fastened to a stick, which was
an alluring if small target to the anxious aerial riflemen. At last
heaped up again, the gunner declined methods in vogue for the firing
of such ancient muzzle-loaders and used a bundle of kerosene-soaked
paper swinging by a wire from the end of the spoon. A few practice
swings were held to be fitting preliminaries to an event of such
importance, and then the nervous cannoneer, screwing his courage to
the sticking-point, swept the blazing mass across the scaly breach and
shrunk behind the sheltering corner. He escaped thunderous destruction
by an eyelash, for what he afterward found was a third of the doughty
weapon whizzed past his corner, taking a large chunk of sun-dried brick
with it. From the besiegers arose guffaws; from the defenders, howls
of derision; and from the owner of the adobe hut, imprecation and
denouncement in fluent Spanish. The wall of his habitation closest to
the fieldpiece justified all he said and even all he thought.
"You should ought 'a run it under Kane's before you touched her off,"
bawled a hilarious voice from cover. "Got another?" he demanded. "Tie
it together an' try again."
The cannoneer without a job affected gaiety, drew inspiration from the
taunts and hastened home to fashion bombs out of anything he could
which would answer his purpose, finally deciding upon a tomato can and
baling wire, and soon had a task to occupy the flaming fires of his
genius.
Red Frank's, being the weaker of the two defenses and only point-blank
range from the old adobe jail whose walls, poor as they were, could be
relied upon to stop bullets, formed the favorite point of attack while
the offense settled down into better-ordered channels. Idaho and others
of his exuberant youth decided that it was their "pudding" and favored
it with attentions which were as barren of results as they were full of
enthusiasm. Discovering that their bullets passed entirely through the
frame second-story and whirred, slobbered, and screamed into the air,
they wasted ammunition lavishly, ignorant that for three feet above
the second-story floor the walls were reinforced with double planking
of hard wood, each layer two inches thick. They might turn the upper
two-thirds of walls into a bird cage and do no one any material damage.
And so passed the first day, McCullough's efforts unavailing in face
of the careless enthusiasm of his men, caused by the novelty of the
situation; and not until one man had died and several others received
serious wounds did the larking punchers come fully to realize that the
game was deadly, and due to become more so.