THE TEXAN "COMES A-SHOOTIN'"
Alice Endicott gazed searchingly into the Texan's flushed face and
wondered at the steadiness of his eyes. "They--they said you were
drunk," she faltered.
The cynical smile that she remembered so well twisted the man's lips:
"They were right--partly. I was headed that way, but I'm cold sober,
now."
"Then leave your guns here and come with me. You must submit to arrest.
They'll fine you and make you pay for the damages and that will be all
there'll be to it."
The Texan shook his head: "No. I told that marshal he couldn't arrest
me, an' he can't."
Alice's heart sank. "Please--for my sake," she pleaded. "If you haven't
got the money----"
"Oh, I've got the money, all right--a whole year's wages right here in
my pocket. It ain't the money, it's the principle of the thing. I made
my brag, an' I've got to see it through. They might _get_ me, but
they'll never arrest me."
"Oh, please----"
Tex interrupted her sharply, and the girl was startled at the gleam that
leaped suddenly from the grey eyes: "What are you doing here? Has
he--didn't you an' Win--hit it out?"
"Oh, yes! Yes! Win is here----"
"An' he let you come in alone--an' stayed outside----"
"No--he doesn't know. He's up at the Camerons. I went for a ride, and
coming back I saw the crowd, and when they told me the man in here was a
Texan, somehow, I just knew it was you."
The gleam faded from the man's eyes and he regarded her curiously; "But,
what are you doin' in Timber City--you an' Win?"
"Why, it's our anniversary! We wanted to spend it here where we were
married. And besides we've got the grandest scheme. Win wants to see
you. Come on, give yourself up, and pay their old fine."
"I won't be arrested," repeated the Texan stubbornly, "an' don't count
me in on any scheme with you an' Win." Once more his eyes blazed, and
his words came low and tense: "Can't you see--I haven't forgot. I don't
reckon I ever will forget! I loved you then, an' I love you now----"
"Don't, don't, Tex! You haven't tried to forget. How many girls have you
known since--a year ago?"
"None--an' I don't want to know any! There ain't any more like you----"
Alice interrupted him with a laugh: "Don't be a fool! I know loads of
girls--and they're all prettier than I am, and they've got lots more
sense, too. Please don't spoil our anniversary this way. There are
twenty men out there, and they're all armed, and they've sworn to kill
you if you don't give yourself up."
"They better start in killin', then." Throwing back his shoulders, he
struck the bar with his fist. "I'll tell you what I'll do--an' that's
all I'll do. You go back an' tell 'em I'll pay my fine, an' a reasonable
amount of damages if they'll leave my horse outside and let me go away
from here. It ain't because I'm afraid of 'em," he hastened to add, "not
a man of 'em--nor all of 'em. But, if you want it that way, I'll do it."
"But, we don't want you to go away!" cried the girl. "Win wants to see
you."
The cowboy shook his head: "I'm goin' away--an' far away," he answered,
"I don't know what his scheme is, an' I don't want to know. We'd all be
fools to tackle it. If that plan suits you, go ahead--no arrest--I'll
just pay my fine an' go. An' if it don't suit you, you better go back to
Win. This is no place for you anyhow. Let 'em go ahead with their
killin', if they think they can get away with it."
For a moment the girl hesitated, then, picking up her candle from the
bar, she started slowly toward the door. "If I can only get word to Win
and Mr. Colston," she thought, "I can delay things until they get here."
"Well, what'd he say?" growled Hod Blake, stepping from among his
retainers.
The tone angered the girl and she glanced contemptuously into the eyes
that stared boldly at her from beneath the wide hat-brim: "He said that
you can't arrest him," she answered defiantly, "and if you knew him as
well as I do, you'd know he told the truth."
"Oh-ho, so he's got a record, has he?" leered the marshal. "Mebbe
they'll be more to this here business than just pickin' up a plain
drunk--little reward money, mebbe--eh?"
"No, no!" cried the girl, "not that! It's just his--his pride. He will
never submit to arrest."
"He won't, eh? Well, then he'll shove up the posies!"
"He'll go away peaceably if you give him the chance. He offered to pay
his fine and the damages to the saloon, if you'll allow him to ride away
unmolested."
"Oh, he will, will he?" sneered the marshal. "It wouldn't take no mind
reader to tell that he's goin' to pay them fine an' damages--peaceable
or onpeaceable, it don't make no difference to me. But, about lettin'
him ride off without arrestin' him--they ain't nothin' doin'. I said I'd
arrest him, an' I will--an' besides, I aim to hold him over a spell till
I can find out if they ain't a reward out fer him. If they ain't nothin'
on him what's he anxious to pay up an' git out fer?"
"Oh, can't you listen to reason?"
"Sure, Hod," urged Barras, jumping at the Texan's offer, "listen to
reason. He ain't done nothin' to speak of. Let him pay up an' git."
"You shet yer mouth!" snapped the marshal. "They's reason enough in what
I said. If they ain't nothin' on him it ain't goin' to hurt him none to
hold him over a few days. It'll do him good. Give him a chanct to sober
up."
"He's as sober as you are, now," flashed the girl angrily, "an' if he
was as drunk as he could get, he'd have more sense than you'll ever
have."
"Kind of peppery, ain't you? Well, you c'n go back an' tell him what I
said. He c'n take it or leave it. An' while yer gone, I'll jest slip
around an' put a couple of more boys guardin' the back door."
The man turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness. Glancing
about in desperation, Alice saw the tall man who had first spoken to
her, still seated upon a corner of the horse trough, a little apart from
the crowd. She hastened to his side: "Will you do something for me?" she
asked, breathlessly.
With a dexterous contortion of his nether lip, the man gathered an end
of his huge moustache into the corner of his mouth: "What would it be?"
he asked noncommittally.
"Hurry to Mr. Cameron's and tell my husband and Mr. Colston to come down
here quick!"
"Y Bar Colston?" he asked, with exasperating deliberation.
"Yes. Oh, please hurry!"
His left eyelid drooped meaningly, as he audibly expelled the moustache
from between his lips, and jerked his head in the direction of the
saloon, "Y'ain't helpin' his case none by draggin' Y Bar into it," he
opined. "Hod hates Y Bar on account he trades over to Claggett. Hod, he
runs the main store here besides bein' marshal."
"Oh, what shall I do!"
Making sure they were out of earshot, the man spoke rapidly. "They ain't
only one way to work it. You hustle back an' tell him to slip down
cellar an' climb up the shoot where they slide the beer-kaigs down. It
opens onto the alley between the livery barn an' the store. Hod ain't
thought of that yet, an' my horse is tied in the alley. Tell him to take
the horse an' beat it."
For an instant the girl peered into the man's eyes as if to fathom his
sincerity. "But why should you sacrifice your horse?"
The man cut her short: "I'll claim his'n, an' it's about an even trade.
Besides, he done me a good turn by not shootin' me in there when he had
the chanct, after I tried to help Barras hold him. An' I'm one of these
here parties that b'lieves one good turn deserves another."
"But," hesitated the girl, "you were shooting into the saloon at him. I
saw you."
"Yup, I was shootin', all right," he grinned, "but he'd of had to be'n
ten foot tall fer me to of hit him. It wouldn't of looked right fer me
not to of be'n a-shootin'."
"But, won't they shoot him when he tries to get away?"
The grin widened: "They won't. Tell him to come bustin' right out the
front way on the high lope, right into the middle of 'em. I know them
_hombres_ an' believe me, it's goin' to be fun to see 'em trompin' over
one another a-gittin' out of the road. By the time they git in shootin'
shape, he'll be into the dark."
"But, they'll follow him."
"Yes, mom. But they ain't goin' to ketch him. That horse of mine kin run
rings around anything they've got. Better hurry now, 'fore Hod thinks
about that beer-kaig shoot."
"Oh, how can I thank you?"
"Well, you might set up a brass statoo of me acrost from the post
office--when the sun hit it right it would show up clean from the top of
the divide."
Alice giggled, as the man extended his hand: "Here's a couple more
matches. You better run along, now. Jest tell that there Texas cyclone
that Ike Stork says this here play is the best bet, bein' as they'll
starve him out if a stray bullet don't find its way between them kaigs
an' git him first."
She took the matches and once more paused in the doorway and lighted her
candle. As she disappeared into the interior, Ike Stork shifted his
position upon the edge of the horse trough and grinned broadly as his
eyes rested upon the men huddled together in the darkness in front of
the saloon.
The girl crossed to the bar, and reading the question in the Texan's
eyes, shook her head: "He won't do it," she said, "he's just as mean,
and stubborn, and self-important and as _rude_ as he can be. He says
he's going to arrest you, and he's going to hold you for a few days in
jail to see if there isn't a reward offered for you somewhere. He
thinks, or pretends to think, that you're some terrible desperado."
The cynical smile twisted the Texan's lips: "He'll be sure of it before
he gets through."
"No, no, Tex! Don't shoot anybody--please! Listen, I've got a plan that
will get you out of here. But first, you've got to promise that you will
see Win. We've set our hearts on it, and you _must_."
"What's the good?"
"Please, for my sake, promise me."
The man's eyes devoured her. "I'd do anything in the world for your
sake," he said, simply. "I'll promise. Tell Win to drift over to
Claggett day after tomorrow, an' I'll meet him somewhere along the
trail."
"Surely? You won't disappoint us?"
The man regarded her reproachfully: "You don't think I'd lie to you?"
"No, forgive me, I--" she paused and looked straight into his eyes,
"and, will you promise me one thing more?"
"Tell me straight out what it is, an' I'll tell you straight out what
I'll do."
"Promise me you won't drink any more until--until after you've seen
Win."
The Texan hesitated: "It's only a couple of days. Yes, I'll promise," he
answered, "an', now, what's your plan?"
Alice glanced toward the door, and leaned closer: "It really isn't my
plan at all," she whispered, "but there's a man out there with a big,
drooping faded-looking moustache, he said you did him a good turn by not
shooting him, or something----"
"Ike Stork," grinned the Texan.
Alice nodded: "Yes, that's his name, and he said to tell you it was the
best bet, whatever that is."
"I get him. Go on."
"Well, he says there's some kind of a chute that they slide the
beer-kegs down into the cellar with, and for you to go down and climb up
the chute. It will let you out into the alley between this building and
the livery stable. The marshal hasn't thought of posting any guards
there, and Ike's horse is tied in the alley, and you're to take him and
make a dash out the front way, right through the crowd. He says they'll
all fall over each other and be so scared that they won't think to shoot
till you've had a chance to get away."
As the girl talked she could see that the Texan's eyes twinkled and when
she finished, his shoulders were shaking with silent mirth: "Good old
Ike!" he chuckled. "You tell him I say he's a bear!"
"He said it would be fun to see them trample over each other getting out
of the way."
"I'll sure see that he gets his money's worth," grinned the Texan.
A troubled look crept into the girl's face: "You won't--_hurt_ anyone?"
she asked.
The man shook his head: "Not onless some of 'em don't get out of the
road. Might knock down a few with the horse, but that won't hurt 'em to
speak of. It wouldn't pain me none to knock that marshal about half ways
down the street--not for anything he's done to me, but because I've got
a hunch he talked pretty rough to you."
"Oh, I hope it's all right," whispered the girl, "do you really think it
will work?"
"Work! Of course it'll work! I've got it all pictured out right now.
It's a peach! Just you get off to one side far enough so's not to get
caught in the rush, an' you'll see some fun. Tell Ike not to forget to
put up an awful howl about losin' his cayuse, just to make the play
good."
"Do you think he's really sincere--that it isn't just a trick to get you
out where they can shoot you? How long have you known this Ike Stork?"
"Dead sure." The Texan's tone was reassuring, "known him a good
half-hour. You ought to seen those eyes of his when he thought I was
goin' to shoot him--never flinched a hair. He's a good man, told me to
hurry up an' make a job of it."
The girl held out her hand: "Good-bye, Tex--till day after tomorrow."
The cowboy took the hand and pressed it fiercely: "You're goin' to be
there, too? That'll make it harder--but--all right."
"Remember," smiled the girl, "what I said about there being loads of
other girls."
"Too bad you hadn't been born in the West, so Win would never known
you--then--maybe----"
"What shall I tell our friend the marshal?" interrupted the girl.
The Texan grinned: "Just tell him not to order any extra meals sent down
to the jail on my account. An', here, tell him the drinks are on the
house," he handed the girl a quart bottle of whisky. "That'll keep 'em
from gettin' restless before the show starts."
Candle in one hand, bottle in the other, the girl made her way to the
door. As she stepped out into the night, she was hailed roughly by the
marshal: "Well, what'd he say, now?"
"He said," answered the girl, scornfully, "that you were not to order
any extra meals sent down to the jail on his account. And he sent you
this and asked me to tell you that the drinks were on the house." She
extended the bottle which the marshal eagerly grasped despite the
strenuous objections of Pete Barras who clamoured for the return of his
property.
"Ain't I had hell enough fer one day?" demanded the bartender, "what
with gittin' shot in the arm, an' gittin' tried to be held up fer four
dollars of Sam's debts, an' gittin' laid out cold with a spittoon, an'
gittin' my glasses an' bottles all busted, an' gittin' my place all shot
up, an' my merrow shot to hell, an' my kegs all shot holes in, without
all you's hornin' in an' drinkin' up what little I got left? As the
feller says, where do I git off at?"
"S'pose you dry up an' let me talk," retorted the marshal. "They ain't
no one payin' _you_ nawthin' to maintain law an' order in this town."
"If they was I'll be damned if I wouldn't maintain it, 'stead of millin'
around drinkin' up other folks' whisky----"
"Look a-here Pete Barras, this makes twict, now, you've ondertook to
tell me my business. You shet yer yap, 'er you don't draw no damages
when we corral that outlaw in yonder. I ain't so sure you didn't start
the rookus, nohow. Besides, the boys needs a little drink, an' we'll
charge this here bottle up along with the rest of the damages an' make
him pay 'em."
"Y'ain't caught him yet. Where do I git off at if you don't ketch him?"
Ike Stork, grinning huge enjoyment over the altercation, managed to
motion Alice to his side: "Better git over to yer cayuse," he cautioned.
"He's pretty near had time to make it into the alley, an' when he comes,
he'll come a-shootin'. Guess I'll jest keep the squabble a-goin', they
all seem right interested," he indicated the crowd that had edged close
about the two principals. And Alice smiled as she mounted her horse to
hear the renewed vigour with which retort met accusation after the
redoubtable Mr. Stork had contributed his observations from the side
lines. The girl's eyes were fixed upon the black mouth of the alley,
now, and with each passing minute she found it harder and harder to
restrain her impatience. Would he never come? What if the window had
been guarded unknown to Stork? What if Stork's horse had broken loose or
been moved by someone passing through the alley? What if--a
bloodcurdling yell split the darkness. And with a thunder of hoofs, an
indistinguishable shape whirled out of the alley. A crash of shots
drowned the thunder of hoofs as from the plunging shape darted thin red
streaks of flame. Straight into the crowd it plunged. For a fleeting
instant the girl caught a glimpse of bodies in confused motion, as the
men surged back from its impact. Above the sound of the guns shrill
cries of fear and hoarse angry curses split the air.
As Ike Stork had predicted, the Texan had "come a-shootin'."