didn’t know that the big gate was wide open. They sure did leave a
hole that yuh could drive a team through.
“Zell Mohr got Scott Martin to come to Marlin City. He knowed that
Scott didn’t have much money; so he let Scott have the Weepin’ Tree
ranch. He wrote out a paper, which showed that nobody but Zell Mohr
could make Martin move off the ranch.
“Zell Mohr, bein’ dead, and not havin’ any relations--well, it kinda
lets Scott Martin stay on the Weepin’ Tree, don’t it? Scott Martin had
that paper with him the day he was shot, and the man or men who shot
him took the paper. They wanted to get a sample of Zell Mohr’s writin’
and also his signature, which no man could make without a copy, and he
had to be some hand-writer to do it at all. Judge Grayson has the deed
that was made thataway.”
“What’s this?” gasped the judge. “A forged deed?”
* * * * *
Brick did not turn, merely nodded his head as he leaned forward,
hooking his thumb over the belt above his gun. Lafe Freeman leaned
forward, hunching low over his folded hands. Silent stepped a little
closer, while Harp shoved away from the wall and rubbed his hands on
his hips.
“Yes, it was forged, judge,” replied Brick evenly. “I don’t blame yuh
for mistaking it for the real thing.”
Seldon got to his feet and spat contemptuously.
“How do yuh make out a thing like that? That’s Zell Mohr’s writin’ and
his signature. You’re cinched, Davidson; and you’re framin’ a cock and
bull story to try and clear yourself. Who in ---- could write like Zell
Mohr? Eh? Tell me that, will yuh?”
“No Sun-Dogger,” smiled Brick. “We ain’t educated enough for that,
Seldon.”
Brick was looking at Smith as he talked to Seldon, but now he spoke
directly to Smith.
“Smith, you’re a clever man.” Brick’s tone was merely conversational,
with a tinge of admiration. “Education sure done things for you. Now,
if you was plumb ignorant like the rest of us you’d be safe and happy,
don’t yuh know it?”
Smith tried to smile and barely managed to contort his features. He was
getting more uncomfortable each minute.
“Yuh made a mistake in Dakota, Smith,” stated Brick.
Smith’s head jerked up and into his black eyes came a hunted look, but
he did not blink.
“You kinda had me up a tree,” continued Brick slowly. “That deed
kinda had me wonderin’ a few things, too. I knowed I had seen your
face somewhere, but I’ll be danged if I could place yuh. No, I never
met yuh, Smith.
“I didn’t know yuh--not personally, but I sure did need yuh. Did yuh
ever set into a game of poker, with a bob-tail straight in your hand?
Yuh had everything, except the one card, to make a bettin’ hand. You
was the filler for my bob-tail.
“Yessir, I needed you--bad. Fact of the matter is, I needed yuh as bad
as Seldon did. My, my, but you was a handy man, Smith.”
Brick grinned. Every man in the house knew things were drawing to a
climax. Lafe Freeman had hunched to the very edge of his chair, and
was watching Voorhies and Seldon like a hawk. Brick’s eyes shifted
from Smith and he appeared to be talking to every one now.
“Gents, do yuh remember that I got a thousand dollars for cleanin’ up
Zell Mohr and his gang? Well, before Zell was sent on his way to the
penitentiary, me and him had a talk. He was kinda sorry about his end
of the deal--what he done to Martin. Zell didn’t have nobody to leave
his property to, and he didn’t have no use a-tall for the Weepin’
Tree ranch; so me and him talked turkey, and he sold me the Weepin’
Tree ranch for--one--thousand--dollars!”
Brick drew the document from his pocket and tossed it beside the
horseshoes.
“There’s the hole in their scheme,” said Brick, and then took out the
piece of paper he had cut from the office wall, and tossed it beside
the deed.
“There’s an old reward notice for Carl Garcia alias Jack Carl; wanted in
Dakota for forgery and murder. He’s the man who killed or helped kill
Scott Martin, and he’s the man that Seldon hired to forge the deed to
the Weepin’ Tree. He’s knowed by several names, but I’ll add--
“Jack Smith!”
As Brick snapped the name his hand flashed for his gun.
Smith was game. He threw himself forward, with one hand buried in his
coatpocket, grasping a gun, but Harp’s pistol spouted fire and Smith
stumbled head first almost at Brick’s feet.
Kane threw himself sidewise, shooting from an awkward angle and masking
Voorhies and Seldon. Kane managed to fire three times, but his bullets
were going wide of their mark--partly on account of his haste, but more
because Brick was shooting deliberately and was not missing.
As Kane plunged to the floor with three of Brick’s bullets dragging
him down, Voorhies, slow of movement, swung his gun forward, but
before he could pull the trigger Lafe’s old Colt roared for the first
time in years and Voorhies crashed back into Seldon, spinning the old
man half-around.
Seldon screamed a curse and shot at Brick from his hip. Brick felt the
bullet strike like the blow of a hammer, but he braced himself, shot
twice at Bun Partner, who was trying to pull down on Lafe, and fired
his last shot at Seldon, just as Seldon staggered through a jumble of
upset seats and sprang for the open window.
Seldon turned half-around, dropping his gun; but his iron nerve carried
him to the window and over the sill, where he fell to the street below.
Brick’s bullets whirled Partner around and he sprawled across a chair,
but his one shot had torn through Lafe Freeman’s right arm, inflicting
a painful wound.
Brick looked around, dazed. At his feet lay Smith, with Harp straddling
his body. Voorhies was sprawled on his back, with one arm over the seat
of the chair, almost on top of Pete Kane, who lay face down.
Silent was holding Lafe Freeman by the arm, and the old man’s face was
very white. In the center of the room was a commotion, and above it all
came the roaring voice of Le Blanc:
“Go ’head, Breek! I’m got sheepherd in bot’ hand!”
Judge Grayson had fallen backward out of his chair at the first shot,
and remained in that position until now, when he got blindly to his
feet, groped for his gavel and struck his desk a ringing blow.
“Order in the court!” he cried, but no one gave him a thought. Brick
tried to go to Lafe’s assistance, but the room began to spin like a
top. He heard Lafe saying:
“That’s all right, Brick; that’s all right. I only got hit in the arm.”
Then he heard some one saying:
“By ----, they did hit him!”
Then everything went black for Brick Davidson, but he felt strangely
indifferent.
* * * * *
Brick blinked his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He turned his head on
the pillow and looked at the wall, where the dim faces on the old reward
posters stared down at him. Near his cot stood a chair, on which were
several medicine bottles and a water glass, over the top of which had
been placed a playing-card, surmounted by a sticky-looking spoon.
Brick’s eyes shifted back to the wall. Slowly he remembered the fight
in the hall; remembered that he had been hit by a bullet. But what was
he doing in a bed in the sheriff’s office? Hadn’t he proved his case?
Was he a prisoner? He listened. Somewhere there was music.
“Hong-g-g-g, hung-g-g-g, um-m-m, hong-g-g,” sounded the doleful humming
of a jew’s harp.
“Harp,” called Brick, and his voice was strangely weak. Came the
scraping of feet, as Harp unhooked himself from his favorite seat in
the doorway; and he walked up to Brick, wiping his mouth with the
back of his hand. He grinned down at Brick.
“Gosh!” he chuckled. “Yuh finally did wake up, did yuh, sheriff?”
“Sheriff?” wondered Brick aloud.
“Y’ betcha. The commissioners met and refused to take your resignation;
and so me and Silent moved yuh in here. You got a slug through yuh, but
Doc Meyers fished it out and he says you’ll be all hunkydory now. Old
Seldon had the .41 that hit yuh. I reckon Smith is goin’ to be able to
attend his own trial; but Partner won’t care which way it goes, ’cause
he cashed in quick. Kane lived long enough to go out kinda clean. He
said that him and Smith and Seldon shot Scott Martin, but he didn’t get
time enough to tell which one done the job. Smith handled the sheep
deal for Seldon and Voorhies; so that nobody’d know who was doin’ it.”
“How’s Lafe?” asked Brick, suddenly remembering that Lafe was hurt in
the fight.
“Goin’ around with one arm in a sling and braggin’ about how fast he is
with a gun. Thinks he done it all.”
Harp laughed and leaned closer.
“A couple of ladies have been in to see yuh every little while. I told
Mrs. Wesson that they didn’t give you a square deal a-tall by thinkin’
you was guilty. Y’ betcha, I gave ’em particular----”
Brick shifted his eyes away and Harp grinned.
“Didja ever rub Mrs. Wesson the wrong way, Brick? Don’t never do it.
Whoo-ee! But say, Brick; they both knowed you wasn’t guilty.”
“Why--” began Brick weakly.
“Lemme tell yuh, Mrs. Wesson’s a wise lady owl. Them two knowed you
wasn’t guilty. Mrs. Wesson didn’t care if you did know how she felt,
but she made Miss Martin act like she thought you was guilty.”
“But why?” asked Brick.
“Mrs. Wesson told her it would make yuh feel bad for a while and then
you’d git mad as ---- and start throwin’ dust. She said you had plenty
of brains, but that you couldn’t be happy and be smart all at the same
time.”
Brick smiled up at the ceiling and shook his head at the wonderful
wisdom of some women, while Harp leaned on the edge of the bed and
clumsily arranged the blankets.
“Mind if I play yuh a tune, Brick?”
Brick looked at Harp’s homely face and smiled.
“Wish yuh would, Harp--thanks. If yuh feel like singin’--go to it.”
“Gittin’ shot sure does create a hankerin’ for music,” observed Harp. “I
could sing, but I reckon I’ll stick to the harp.”
Harp started for the door, but stopped.
“When yuh git well, I don’t want yuh to point out the fact that I picked
on yuh when yuh was flat on your back, Brick.”
“Go ahead and play,” grinned Brick. “I--I don’t think I’d mind anything
now.”
It was neither a request nor a compliment to Harp’s musical ability;
rather it was a concession, but Harp was hard-boiled, and all he needed
was a chance to play.
[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the November 30, 1921 issue
of Adventure magazine. This story is believed to be in the public domain
in the United States. Please note that copyright status may differ in
other countries.]