Boss and Bandit
Teddy, hand resting on the gun, eyes wide, stared at the prostrate
intruder. Something about the man seemed familiar. As he lay there,
his arms thrown wide, head turned to one side, he appeared to have
been dropped from a great height and pressed into the earth from the
force of descent. The fingers weakly opened and closed, but aside
from that the figure was motionless, silent.
Teddy dropped on one knee, and laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. A
shudder ran through the body.
“Here!” Teddy said sharply. “What’s the matter? Can you speak?”
“Tired,” the man mumbled. “Hungry. Let me be.”
Roy, who was lying near by, awoke and sat up, blinking. When he saw
his brother bending over the man he thought at first that Teddy was
trying to rouse one of the sleepers.
“Shake him, Teddy,” he advised in a drowsy voice. “What’s the
matter--did he steal your blanket?”
“Roy, come here,” Teddy said quickly. “I think this is some one you
know.”
“Some one I--” Then the meaning of Teddy’s sentence penetrated his
brother’s half-awakened mind, and he struggled to his feet. By this
time the others were stirring, asking questions in sleepy tones and
rolling about to see the cause of the disturbance.
Roy hastened to his brother’s side. Together, the two boys turned
the man over, so that he faced the fire. As the glare of the newly
fed flames glinted in his face, he made a feeble gesture of protest
and covered his eyes with his hand. Then letting the arm drop like a
dead thing, he sighed painfully.
Teddy, seeing the face, started back.
“The Pup!” he exclaimed, and turned at a touch on his shoulder. His
father was peering down at their visitor.
“It’s Marino, all right,” Mr. Manley agreed grimly, staring at the
dust-streaked face. “Is he hurt? What’s the matter?”
Teddy shook the man gently.
“Are you hurt, Joe?” the boy asked loudly. “Can’t you talk?”
“Talk all right--too tired,” The Pup mumbled. “Not
hurt--tired--hungry.” Then for the first time he seemed to realize
that he was surrounded by a ring of inquiring, puzzled faces. He
pulled himself together and glared haggardly at Teddy, then shifted
his gaze to Roy, and finally to Mr. Manley. Suddenly the light of
fear came into his eyes, and he leaped to his feet, trembling.
“Don’t--don’t shoot me,” he begged piteously. “I’ll go! But don’t
shoot me!”
“No one’s going to shoot you,” Mr. Manley said soothingly. “Here,
sit down. Take this blanket. Man, you’re shiverin’ like a leaf. Get
closer to the fire--that’s it! Pop rustle up some beans for this
feller, will you? He looks half starved.”
“Half starved!” the man gasped, querulously, and sank within
himself. “Worse’n that. Three days without food--lost--horse gone--”
Pop Burns brought some cold beans to him, and, hungrily, ravenously,
the man reached for them. They watched him while he ate, more like a
wild beast than a human being, and later Pop brought him a cup of
steaming coffee. When he had finished this he sighed with relief and
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice, when again he
spoke, was stronger.
“Boss,” he said, turning to Mr. Manley, “I don’t deserve this. By
rights you should have thrown me out on my neck. Instead you--” he
hesitated, and waved his arm in an expressive gesture--“you treat me
like a man instead of like a--a mangy dog.” He gulped, and his
listeners shifted uneasily. “I ain’t worth it. I’m a thief--a hoss
thief an’ a common robber. Once I-- But we’ll let that go. I ain’t
got yore money, boss,” he said suddenly, and looked up appealingly.
“I ain’t got a cent of it left.”
“You spent it?” Mr. Manley asked sharply.
“I been robbed,” The Pup continued, and gulped again. “Been robbed
of everything I had except the hoss, an’ he ran away. For three days
I been walkin’--tryin’ to find some one--any one--tryin’ to find
food--”
“Who robbed you?”
“Denver Smith an’ his bunch.”
“Denver Smith!” Jake Trummer ejaculated, and bent over The Pup.
“When did yuh see them? Where are they? Have they got--”
“Give the man a chance, Jake,” Mr. Manley advised gently. “He’s all
in. Listen Marino,” he said in a louder tone, “do you know where
Denver Smith is now?”
“Said he was goin’ to rustle your cattle an’ follow the river to the
Border,” The Pup whispered weakly. “Wanted me to go in it with him,
but I figured I’d done enough to you. Then Denver hit me--hit me
with somethin’--” stupidly he put his hand to his head. “Hit me, an’
took the four hundred dollars, an’ when I woke up my hoss was gone
an’ I was lyin’ near some trees. The four hundred bucks--I was
hopin’ to make Togas an’ find my sister--an’ I was goin’ to
work--buy a store, maybe--an’ send the money back to you,
boss--honest I was--every cent--”
“And buy a few more knives with some one else’s initials burned in
the handle,” Teddy interrupted bitterly. “The story listens fine,
Marino!”
“I ain’t lyin’!” Marino almost screamed. “It’s the truth! I wanted
to start clean! I been a long time livin’ down--what I used to be.
Then, that night--I must have been crazy, I guess. I’d been drinkin’
too much an’ I thought I could turn a trick just once more an’ go
back home an’ live straight. My mother--I killed her, I guess,
’cause she died when she found out what I was. It was then I
promised my sister I’d give up--that stuff. Oh, you might as well
know it all,” he burst out, his words tumbling over one another as
if in agony to escape before being called back. “I was a
bandit--that knife was marked with my initials, Teddy. My real
name’s Jules Kolto--”
“You--Jules Kolto?” Pop cried incredulously. “I heard lots about you
years ago! Then yuh are a Mex, after all!”
“Yep, I’m Mex,” Kolto went on bitterly. “A Mex, a hoss thief, an’ a
bandit. Now you know. If yuh want to string me up, go ahead!” he
exclaimed defiantly. “I ain’t any good to nobody, least of all to
myself! So do what you want with me--an’ I won’t do no cryin’,
neither!” He took a deep breath, then a sudden tremor shook his
frame.
“Take it easy, son,” Mr. Manley said kindly. “You ain’t in no fit
condition to be hung. What you want is rest an’ food. Hangin’
wouldn’t make you feel a bit better. Guess you’ve learned yore
lesson. Jules Kolto! Well, well! And you been straight for so many
years only to backslide an’ have the money you stole taken from you
by another thief! The longer we live the queerer things we see,” and
Mr. Manley smiled grimly. “Yore hoss--or, rather, the one you
stole--is picketed over yonder. We found him. You took a mighty poor
way to start straight. No good ever comes of stolen money. An’ while
I ain’t a preacher, I’m preachin’ now.
“You wanted to get to Mexico an’ see yore sister, maybe live there
the rest of yore life, an’ to do that you undid all the work of ten
years in one grand spree. Suppose you had gotten away with it? What
would yore sister have said to you? Think she’d have anything to do
with stolen money when she’d made you promise to quit? An’ what else
was that you said--that yore mother died when she found out that you
was a bandit? Then you went ahead and stole again! Humans are funny
animals,” and Mr. Manley shook his head. “I can’t figure ’em.
“Now listen, Jules Kolto. I’ll give you another chance. You help us
find Denver Smith an’ his gang an’ get our cattle back. Then you
come home with me an’ work--work until that four hundred is paid.
Then you can find yore sister an’ she won’t be ashamed to see you.
Jules Kolto, I’m offerin’ you a chance to go straight. Will yuh take
it?”
Jules stood up. He threw back his head and the gleam from the fire
shone on the face of a man with his jaw set firmly and with the
light of a new purpose in his eyes.
“Boss,” he said huskily, “I’m for you! I can’t say much,--but I’ll
do whatever you want me to--barrin’ nothin’. I’ll trail Denver Smith
till we get the cattle back if I drop in my tracks doin’ it. I’ll
work my fingers off for you. Boss--will you shake?”
There was a tense silence, broken only by the crackle of the fire,
as the hands of boss and bandit met in a firm clasp.