FIRST BLOOD AT CALABASAS
Nothing more than de Spain's announcement that he would sustain his
stage-guards was necessary to arouse a violent resentment at Calabasas
and among the Morgan following. Some of the numerous disaffected were
baiting the stages most of the time. They bullied the guards, fought
the passengers, and fomented discontent among the drivers. In all
Thief River disturbances, whether a raid on cattlemen, a stage
hold-up, a gun fight, or a tedious war of words, the Calabasas men,
sometimes apparently for the mere maintaining of prestige, appeared to
take leading roles. After de Spain's declaration the grievance against
Elpaso was made a general one along the line. His stage was singled
out and ridden at times both by Sandusky and Logan--the really
dangerous men of the Spanish Sinks--and by Gale Morgan and Sassoon to
stir up trouble.
But old Frank Elpaso was far from being a fool. A fight with any one
of these men meant that somebody would be killed, and no one could
tell just who, Elpaso shrewdly reckoned, until the roll-call at the
end of it. He therefore met truculence with diplomacy, threatening
looks with flattery, and hard words with a long story. Moreover, all
Calabasas knew that Elpaso, if he had to, would fight, and that the
eccentric guard was not actually to be cornered with impunity. Even
Logan, who, like Sandusky, was known to be without fear and without
mercy, felt at least a respect for Elpaso's shortened shotgun, and
stopped this side actual hostilities with him. When the June clean-up
of the No. 2 Thief River mine came through--one hundred and six
thousand dollars in gold bullion under double guard--and a Calabasas
contingent of night-riders tried to stop the treasure, rumor along the
Sinks had it that Elpaso's slugs, delivered at the right moment, were
responsible for Deaf Sandusky's long illness at Bear Dance, and the
failure of the subsequent masked attack on the up stage.
Sassoon, however, owing to the indignity now put upon him, also
nourished a particular grievance against the meditative guard, and his
was one not tempered either by prudence or calculation. His chance
came one night when Elpaso had unwisely allowed himself to be drawn
into a card game at Calabasas Inn. Elpaso was notoriously a stickler
for a square deal at cards. He was apparently the only man at
Calabasas that hoped for such a thing, and certainly the only one so
rash as to fight for it--yet he always did. A dispute on this occasion
found him without a friend in the room. Sassoon reached for him with a
knife.
McAlpin was the first to get the news at the barn. He gave first aid
to the helpless guard, and, without dreaming he could be got to a
surgeon alive, rushed him in a light wagon to the hospital at Sleepy
Cat, where it was said that he must have more lives than a wildcat.
Sassoon, not caring to brave de Spain's anger in town, went
temporarily into hiding. A second surgeon was brought from Medicine
Bend, and heroic efforts were put forth to nurse again into life the
feeble spark the assassin had left in the unlucky guard.
Word of this cutting reached de Spain at Thief River. He started for
Calabasas, learned there during a brief stop what he could--which was,
of course, next to nothing--of the affray, and posted on to Sleepy
Cat.
A conference was held in Jeffries's office. De Spain, Lefever, and
some of the division staff discussed the situation raised by the
affair. De Spain was instructed to see that Sassoon was brought in and
made an example of for the benefit of his Calabasas friends.
Accordingly, while the guard's life hung in the balance, the sheriff,
Jim Druel, was despatched after Sassoon. A great deal of inquiry, much
riding, and a lot of talk on Druel's part accomplished nothing.
Lefever spoiled with impatience to get after Sassoon. "The only way
we'll ever get one of that gang is to go for him ourselves," said he.
The sheriff's campaign did collapse. Sassoon could not be found
although rumor was notorious that he continued to haunt Calabasas.
Lefever's irritation grew. "Never mind, John," counselled de Spain,
"forget about wanting him. Sometime one of us will stumble on him, and
when we do we'll shackle him." The precaution was taken, meantime, to
secure a warrant for the missing man, together with authority for
either of the two to serve it. Elpaso, in the end, justified his old
reputation by making a recovery--haltingly, it is true, and with
perilous intervals of sinking, but a recovery.
It was while he still lay in the hospital and hope was very low that
de Spain and Lefever rode, one hot morning, into Calabasas and were
told by McAlpin that Sassoon had been seen within five minutes at the
inn. To Lefever the news was like a bubbling spring to a thirsty man.
His face beamed, he tightened his belt, shook out his gun, and looked
with benevolent interest on de Spain, who stood pondering. "If you
will stay right here, Henry," he averred convincingly, "I will go over
and get Sassoon."
The chief stage-guard, Bob Scott, the Indian, was in the barn. He
smiled at Lefever's enthusiasm. "Sassoon," said he, "is slippery."
"You'd better let us go along and see you do it," suggested de Spain,
who with the business in hand grew thoughtful.
"Gentlemen, I thank you," protested Lefever, raising one hand in
deprecation, the other resting lightly on his holster. "We still have
some _little_ reputation to maintain along the Sinks. Don't let us
make it a _posse_ for _Sassoon_." No one opposed him further, and he
rode away alone.
"It won't be any trouble for John to bring Sassoon in," murmured
Scott, who spoke with a smile and in the low tone and deliberate
manner of the Indian, "if he can find him."
With de Spain, Scott remained in front of the barn, saddled horses in
hand. They could see nothing of the scene of action, and de Spain was
forced in idleness to curb his impatience. Lefever rode down to the
inn without seeing a living thing anywhere about it. When he
dismounted in front he thought he heard sounds within the barroom,
but, pushing open the door and looking circumspectly into the room
before entering, he was surprised to find it empty.
There was something, under the circumstances and in the stimulus of
danger, almost uncanny in the silence, the absence of any life
whatever about the place. Lefever walked cautiously inside; there
seemed no need of caution. No one was there to confront or oppose him.
Surveying the interior with a rapid glance, he walked to the left end
of the bar and, gun in readiness, looked apprehensively behind it. Not
so much as a strainer was to be seen underneath. He noticed, however,
that the sash of the low window on his left, which looked into the
patio, was open, and two heel-marks in the hard clay suggested that a
man might have jumped through. Whether these were Sassoon's heels or
another's, Lefever decided they constituted his clew, and, running out
of the front door, he sprang into his saddle and rode to where he
could signal de Spain and Scott to come up.
He told his story as they joined him, and the three returned to the
inn. Scott rode directly to the rear. Lefever took de Spain in to the
bar, showed him the open sash, and pointed to the heel-prints. De
Spain stepped through the window, Lefever following. An examination
showed the slide of a spur-rowel behind one heel-mark and indications
of a hasty jump.
While they bent over the signs that seemed to connect their quarry
with the place, a door opened across the courtyard, and Pedro
appeared. He was curiously dense to all inquiries, and Lefever,
convinced that Sassoon was somewhere at hand, revenged himself by
searching the place.
In the dark kitchen a very old woman and a slovenly girl were at work.
No one else was to be found anywhere.
De Spain, who was the more experienced tracker, thought he could
follow the footprints to the arched opening across the patio. This was
closed only by a swinging gate, and afforded easy escape from a
pursuer. At some distance outside this gate, as de Spain threw it
open, sat Bob Scott on his horse. De Spain made inquiry of Scott. No
one had been seen. Returning to Lefever, who, greatly chagrined, had
convinced himself that Sassoon had got away, de Spain called Scott
into the patio.
A better tracker than either of his companions, Scott after a minute
confirmed their belief that Sassoon must have escaped by the window.
He then took the two men out to where some one, within a few minutes,
had mounted a horse and galloped off.
"But where has he gone?" demanded Lefever, pointing with his hand.
"There is the road both ways for three miles." Scott nodded toward the
snow-capped peak of Music Mountain. "Over to Morgan's, most likely. He
knows no one would follow him into the Gap. Just for fun, now, let's
see."
Dismounting, the Indian scrutinized the hoof-prints where the horse
had stood. Getting into the saddle again, he led the way, bending over
his horse's neck and stopping frequently to read the trail, half a
mile out along the Gap road, until he could once more readily point
out the hoof-prints to his companions. "That is Sassoon," he
announced. "I know the heels. And I know he rides this horse; it
belongs to Gale Morgan. Sassoon," Scott smiled sympathetically on
Lefever, "is half-way to Morgan's Gap."
"After him!" cried Lefever hotly. De Spain looked inquiringly at the
guard. Scott shook his head. "That would be all right, but there's two
other Calabasas men in the Gap this afternoon it wouldn't be nice to
mix with--Deaf Sandusky and Harvey Logan."
"We won't mix with them," suggested de Spain.
"If we tackle Sassoon, they'll mix with us," explained Scott. He
reflected a moment. "They always stay at Gale Morgan's or Duke's. We
might sneak Sassoon out without their getting on. Sassoon knows he is
safe in the Gap; but he'll hide even after he gets there. He takes two
precautions for every other man's one. Sassoon is a wonder at hiding
out. I've got the Thief River run this afternoon----"
De Spain looked at him. "Well?"
Scott's face softened into the characteristic smile--akin to a quiet
grin--that it often wore. "If I didn't have to go through to-day, and
the three of us could get to the Gap before daylight to-morrow
morning, I would give Sassoon a run for his money in spite of the
other fellows."
"Don't take your run this afternoon," directed de Spain. "Telephone
Sleepy Cat for a substitute. Suppose we go back, get something to eat,
and you two ride singly over toward the Gap this afternoon; lie
outside under cover to see whether Sassoon or his friends leave before
night--there's only one way out of the place, they tell me. Then I
will join you, and we'll ride in before daylight, and perhaps catch
him while everybody is asleep."
"If you do," predicted Scott, in his deliberate way of expressing a
conclusion, "I think you'll get him."
It was so arranged.