THE DEATH CHANT
“For God’s sake!” Johnny cried when he reached Madeiras. “What did
you kill him for?”
“Eet’s either you or heem. You t’ink I let heem pump lead into you
like that?”
“Have you been stalkin’ him?”
“I watch heem all right. Thunder Bird and feefty braves ees up
beyond. Gallup and Roddy ees on other side of mountain. You most
t’ink eet was a raid. Gallup die if he come close.”
“We’ve got to stop that, Tony. Gale’s been shot. He confessed.
Gallup killed both him and Traynor. Kelsey and a posse are spread
out in the hills to git him. I been lookin’ my eyes out for you. Who
told you I was alive?”
“The chief. He tell me you want me.”
“You bet! Kent and Gallup have got Molly hidden somewhere. They
swore out a warrant for me, chargin’ I took her.”
Tony smiled very superiorly. “No,” he said. “They ain’t got her; me,
Tony Madeiras, has got the girl!”
“What? You stole her?”
“_Sí!_ I watch Gallup leave town las’ night. I lose time before I
follow, but I go pretty dam’ fas’ when I get started. I t’ink he ees
go to the ranch. I say I tak’ the girl before I let heem have her.
_Por Dios_, that girl hate me. I have fight to tak’ her away.” Tony
shook his head. “Such nice girl, Johnny—sometime I wish you not come
back.”
“Well, where is she now?” Johnny demanded excitedly.
“Don’ worry; she’s safe—she’s in Thunder Bird’s lodge. Hees squaw
ees tak’ good care of her.”
“That’s no place for her, Tony. I don’t want her to know anythin’
about what’s happenin’ today. You git behind me now and we’ll crawl
over to Kent. Look out; he may not be dead. He lost his rifle, but
he may have a pistol on him.”
“No need be afraid,” Tony assured Johnny. “I tak’ good aim.”
When they found Kent he was propped against a rock with a pistol in
his hand, but he was so far gone that he could not lift his arm to
fire. “Go ’way,” he muttered. “Let me die in peace.”
“No, Kent,” answered Johnny. “Too many things have happened today to
go without a word with you. With all your faults I know you love
Molly. I’ve got to talk. Gale has been killed. He told the truth
about you and Gallup and Traynor. There’s a posse surroundin’
Gallup. They’ll git him if Thunder Bird don’t.”
“You lyin’?” the old man questioned.
“I’ll prove that I ain’t,” the boy replied, and he retold part of
Gale’s story.
“You win,” Kent said at last. “I never should have opposed you. But
I ain’t afraid to die. Best that I do, I guess. Molly is against me.
You killed her love for me—and she did love me. Yes, she did! Won’t
you fix it some way, Johnny, so that she won’t know all—that—that
she wasn’t my girl?
“I ain’t taken a penny of her money. In fact, I’ve doubled what I
got out of the mine. It’s all hers. Gallup’s got my notes for thirty
thousand. He won’t be able to collect. That’s good, ain’t it—beatin’
him?
“He shot ‘Cross.’ Got him from the top of one of those box cars
while I was tryin’ to make an alibi for myself by sittin’ in
Ritter’s office. Think of him turnin’ on me after what we’d been
through—tryin’ to take Molly. God, I’m glad she’s free of him! Tell
her you and me made it up, Johnny—that I said I hoped you two’d be
happy. Will you do that?”
The old man tried to lift his arm beseechingly.
“Don’t let her know about me—don’t tell her she wasn’t my child,” he
begged. “I raised her, Johnny—her little baby hands. I can feel
them.”
In spite of Johnny’s efforts Kent forced himself half erect. “You’ve
got to promise me, do you hear?” he went on. “I couldn’t die if I
thought she was goin’ to know. I couldn’t, I tell you—I—I—couldn’t.”
He fell back before the boy could catch him. Madeiras put his ear to
the man’s chest.
“He’s gone,” Johnny whispered to the Basque. “Yes, sir, the old
man’s gone! There’s all that’s left of Jackson Kent. Two months ago
who’d ever have thought it would come to this?”
Johnny got to his feet and walked to a bowlder and sat down. “I got
so I was hatin’ him,” he said to Tony, “and yet it kinda chokes me
up to see him lyin’ there like that. Things used to be pretty
pleasant in the old days on the range.”
Johnny’s words and the look on his face caused Madeiras more concern
than the sight of Kent’s lifeless body. Going to the boy’s side, he
placed his arm around his shoulders.
“Never min’, Johnny,” he said. “Kent try dam’ hard do ever’t’ing bad
for you. No reason for you mak’ me feel all bus’ up.”
“No, I don’t suppose there is; but I’m goin’ to try and do as he
wished. If the old man had been all bad he would have put Molly into
some institution and forgot her. Whatever he did that was wrong—he
was good to her. So don’t talk, Tony. These things square themselves
in time.”
Johnny got up and covered Kent’s face.
“Where’s his horse?” the boy asked.
“Back where I lef’ mine,” Madeiras answered, pointing to a little
park of stunted cedars.
“No matter,” Johnny went on, “we got to leave him here or—say! We’ll
throw him on my horse and tote him to the trees. We can tie him up
between some of those cedars so the coyotes won’t be able to git at
him. Give me a hand; we got to git movin’.”
When they arrived at the trees they put a rope around Kent’s body,
and passed the end of it through a noose in another rope which they
had looped over the top of one of the trees. By this arrangement
they were able to lift the body from the ground and raise it to a
place of safety.
Johnny had knotted the ropes when he suddenly came to attention.
Madeiras glanced at him sharply.
“What ees eet?” the Basque asked.
Johnny had his hands cupped to his ears. “Listen,” he whispered.
Faint, far off, came the measured, significant sound which had
alarmed the boy. The Basque’s expression showed that he, too, heard
it.
“Do you get it?” Johnny asked. “_Tum, tum, tu-um, tum, tum_—it’s a
finger drum.”
“_Sí_,” Tony nodded, his voice dry, his hand keeping time with the
beat. “Eet’s the death chant. Old——”
“Thunder Bird’s got Gallup!” Johnny finished for the Basque.
“_That’s_ what is waitin’ for us on the top of this mountain! All we
got to do is to go into that Piute camp and take Gallup away from
them. And we’ve got to do it with gab. I know Injuns. Every minute
we wait here only makes our chances slimmer. Believe me, if we’re
goin’ to save Gallup—we’ve got to travel.”