EVIDENCE TO CONVICT
Johnny was leading the posse two hours later when he signaled to the
other men. “Rig comin’,” he called as they moved within hearing
distance. “Ought to pass it just about where the road forks. Let’s
hit it up a little.”
Riding in close formation, they began rapidly to diminish the
distance between themselves and the oncoming team.
“Driver asleep, him,” the keen-eyed Charlie called to Johnny.
“Sorry, but we’ll have to disturb him,” Johnny answered. “Better
spread out, boys. That team is runnin’.”
In ten minutes the team was almost up with them.
“Whoa, there!” Johnny cried, but the driver paid no attention to the
hail. “Look out!” the boy shouted to Doc Ritter. “I’ll yank ’em as
they go by.”
Whirling his horse, Johnny planted himself in the path of the
galloping team. A mad dive for a bridle strap, and he had the off
horse on its haunches. “Grab the gray, Charlie!” he cried to the
Indian.
Charlie Paul’s hands shot out, and in another second the team was
halted. Johnny took a look at the driver, who had slipped to the
floor of the rig, his face blood-stained; blank, wide-open eyes
staring up at the sky.
“There you are, Jim,” Johnny shouted to Kelsey as he recognized the
blood-smeared face. “It’s Toby Gale! They got him, just as I said
they would.”
“God!” Kelsey moaned. “He’s all banged up, ain’t he? Give me a hand,
and we’ll get him out of the wagon.”
“He’s goin’ to die,” Doc Ritter announced after a hurried
examination, “but he’ll come back for a second or so before he goes.
Somebody give me some whiskey.”
Scanlon obliged, and between them they fanned the man’s dying spark
of life into a smoldering flame. Tobias eyed the five of them in
turn. Johnny held his gaze.
“Can you talk?” the boy asked.
Gale tried to move his lips, but no intelligent sound came from
them.
“Wait, I’ll lift up his head a bit,” Doc volunteered.
Gale licked his lips. Seconds dragged by before he made a sound.
When he did speak it was in flat, lifeless tones. He was looking at
Ritter. “I’m dying, ain’t I, Doc?” he asked.
“You’re pretty bad off,” Doc told him honestly.
Tobias just gazed helplessly at Ritter, searching the doctor’s face
for sign of the truth which he feared. The little man’s eyelids drew
back from the pupils of his eyes as he read his fate.
“Oh, God, Doc, I don’t want to die!” he moaned. “I’m afraid of it. I
can feel it coming on. It’s awful!”
An unearthly sound broke from his lips. Ritter forced more of the
whiskey down his throat. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded. “Who
shot you?”
Tobias shook his head slightly. “Let me talk, Ritter,” he muttered.
“My God, I’ve never talked. Let me have a chance now. You others go
away. I want to speak just to Johnny and Kelsey.”
“Better humor him,” Ritter advised as he got to his feet. “He’ll go
in a few minutes.”
Johnny and the district attorney nodded their heads and got to their
knees beside the dying man.
“What is it, Toby?” Johnny asked.
Toby stared at the boy for an interval before he answered. “You hate
Aaron Gallup even as I do,” he said at last. “That’s why I called
for you. Yes, I do hate him,” he repeated in answer to the question
in the boy’s eyes. “I’ve always hated him—but he’s got me.”
“Gallup shot you?”
“Aaron Gallup—get that straight. Roddy was with him. Roddy didn’t
shoot, though.
“I was going to the Reservation. I’d brought the chief in to see
Gallup last night—I’ll tell you why later. You know they had
trouble. I was on top the hotel. I saw you drive away with the old
Indian. I got a team and started after you about daylight.
“I got just about here when I saw four men coming fast. I thought
they were after me, and I raced the horses. The four of them split
up at the forks. Roddy and Gallup chased me. When I saw it was
Gallup I was afraid to stop. He yelled at me—so did the sheriff, but
I kept on going.
“Gallup fired then. I must have turned around, for I saw his gun
flash again. I fell out of the rig, I remember, because I was on the
ground when I opened my eyes. Gallup was standing over me. ‘Guess
you’ll stop now,’ he said. ‘You can talk your damned head off if you
want to. Won’t be any one to hear you blabbin’ about me.’
“I let him know then that _I_ had brought the chief to see him. Ha,
ha—it was almost worth getting killed to be able to tell him that.
He raised his foot and kicked me in the face, and riddled me again.
He’s got plenty to swing for, Kelsey. Not me alone, either. Johnny
knows I’m right about that. Due to me that man Traynor came to the
Rock. I don’t know how it happened, but Gallup or Kent killed him.”
Johnny and Kelsey flashed a glance at each other.
“Oh, Lord!” Gale moaned. “I can’t breathe. Where’s that bottle?”
“Give him all he wants,” Ritter called to Johnny. “It won’t put him
under.”
Johnny had been staring at the man’s ragged chest, but he had to
turn his head away as the stimulant began to have an effect on
Gale’s heart.
“I got to talk quick, don’t I?” Tobias asked. “Gallup ground me into
the dirt for years. I made up my mind to get square with him some
time. He was too cautious. I knew he had covered up something in his
past. It must have been two years before I got on the trail of what
it was.
“I was on the Reservation one day. Thunder Bird was getting married
again. He was all decked out. Around his neck he had a chain of
beads, and hanging on the middle of it was a piece of a white man’s
silver watch chain. It was Mexican made, I guess—I’d only seen the
like of it once before; Gallup had such a chain, and it always
looked to me as if it had been broken off.
“I asked the chief where he got those links. He was on edge in a
second. I mentioned Gallup’s name. That floored him. I found out
afterward that he had not been in town for years, that he had no
idea of Gallup’s nearness. I made a good friend of the Indian. It
took me a year or more to piece together the story of Gallup’s past;
but I got it. That was three years ago.
“I managed it so that Thunder Bird got a look at Kent and Gallup. He
recognized them at a glance.
“I got busy hunting for Traynor. Took me until a month ago to find
him. When he came I was on the Reservation. I talked to him, and
part of what I’m going to tell you I got from him, the rest from the
chief. Now, for God’s sake don’t let me pass out until I’ve
finished.”
Gale paused for a second or so. “Got to make it short,” he began
again. “It was down in Arizona. Traynor, Kent, and Gallup had a
copper claim in the Painted Desert. Traynor was married. Had a wife
and baby girl living in Flagstaff. All this happened nineteen or
twenty years ago.
“Thunder Bird had skipped from the Reservation—some trouble growing
out of the Mormon raid—he was hiding out down around the Little
Colorado. Traynor hired him to freight supplies to their mine.
“The claim began to look so good that Gallup and Kent decided to get
rid of Traynor. They sent the Indian to town, and as soon as they
were alone the two of them jumped their man, hog-tied him and rolled
him out in the sun to die of thirst. Two days nearly finished him.
“Kent, then, loaded him on a mule and took him out north and left
him for the buzzards. They were in the clear—men dying right along
like that for want of water. They put up a fine show when the Indian
returned. Told him Traynor had been gone two days; that they had
hunted for him until their water gave out.
“It was a pat yarn, but the Indian noticed that broken watch chain
and found the piece Traynor had twisted off in the fight. That night
he stole what water there was in camp and went after the missing
man. He searched for days without finding him. A wandering band of
Shewits had picked up Traynor and carried him off to their village
north of the Virgin. Two months later Thunder Bird found him there.
“Traynor went back to Flagstaff, but Kent and Gallup were gone, also
his wife and child. Six or seven years elapsed before they showed up
in this country. Traynor’s wife had died. Kent claimed the girl for
his daughter.”
“You mean Molly?” Johnny gasped. “She ain’t Kent’s daughter?”
“No. Her right name is Molly Traynor. Traynor combed the West
looking for them. That’s why I couldn’t find him. Gallup had sold
the mine for a good price. Traynor managed to get a little out of
it. I guess that about tells it.
“I didn’t know Kent was shipping from the Rock this year or I would
’a’ warned Traynor. Gallup had left for Salt Lake to be gone a week.
I thought it was all right for the man to come into town.
“But both Gallup and Kent were here. I knew it that night when I got
back. I watched; I was sure there’d be trouble. I didn’t want
Traynor killed. I wanted to break Gallup. He knows how it was done,
Kelsey. Make him tell—make him talk. Promise me you’ll get him.”
“Johnny knows how Traynor was killed,” Kelsey answered. “If it’s any
comfort to you, you can bank on it that we’ll get Mr. Gallup—and
he’ll talk.”