THE INSURGENT
And so Purdy had joined the Grimshaw gang, and had prospered. Raids were
planned and, under the leadership of the crafty Cass Grimshaw whole
bands of horses were run across the line and disposed of, and always the
gang returned to the bad lands unbroken. For nearly a year things went
well, and then came a change. Where absolute unity of purpose, and
unswerving loyalty to their leader were essential, dissension crept
in--and Purdy was at the bottom of it.
The first intimation of discord came to Cass Grimshaw one night in the
hang-out where the six sat smoking. Purdy casually mentioned that it was
getting along towards shearing time and that the Wolf River bank ought
to be heavily stocked with cash. The leader blew a double plume of smoke
from his nostrils and abruptly asked:
"Well, what if it is?"
"Oh, nothin'," Purdy answered with a show of indifference, "only--I was
just thinkin'."
"Thinkin', mebbe, to slip over an' pull a hold-up?"
"Well, they's more _dinero_ in one haul there than they is in a half a
dozen horse raids. Pete, here, he says he knows about handlin' soup."
"Be'n talkin' it over, eh?" there was a sneer in Grimshaw's voice.
"Figure because you've helped pull off a few good horse deals, you're a
regular outlaw? Want to tackle banks, an' express boxes? The horse
game's got too slow, eh? Tired of follerin' my lead?"
Purdy interrupted with a gesture of impatience: "Hell--no! We thought,
maybe, you'd----"
"Thought I'd turn bank robber, eh? Thought I'd quit a game where I hold
all the aces, an' horn in on one where I don't hold even a deuce to draw
to? Bitin' off more'n he c'n chaw has choked more'n one feller. Right
here in Choteau County they's some several of 'em choked out on the end
of a tight one, because they overplayed their hand. I'm a
horse-thief--an' a damn good one. You fellers is good horse-thieves,
too--long as you've got me to do yer thinkin'. My business is runnin'
off horses an' sellin' 'em--an' I ain't holdin' up no banks fer a side
line. If I ain't able to pull a bank job, how in hell be you
forty-dollar-a-month cow hands goin' to do it? So don't go lettin' me
hear any more of that talk." He paused and looked his hearers over with
narrowed eyes: "An' if any of you feel like trying it on yer own
hook--if you don't git away with it, the sheriff'll git you--an' if you
do, I'll git you--so, take yer pick."
There was no more talk of bank robbery. Grimshaw planned a horse raid
that was successful, but the heart of the leader was troubled and
always he kept close watch on Purdy. And Purdy gave him no grounds for
suspicion, nevertheless he was busy with his own thoughts, and way back
in his brain was an ever present vision--the vision of a squat,
bow-legged man, dangling limp across the front of his saddle.
The next friction between them came one evening when Grimshaw announced
that there was a new nester over on Red Sand Creek.
"Is he--right?" asked Bill.
The leader nodded: "Yeh, it's Cinnabar Joe, that used to tend bar in the
Headquarters saloon in Wolf River. Him an' that there Jennie Dodds that
used to work in the hotel's got married an' filed along the crick, 'bout
four mile above McWhorter's."
Purdy laughed harshly: "Cinnabar, eh? Well, when the time comes, I'll
just naturally tap him fer his pile. I've got somethin' on that bird.
He's mine."
Cass Grimshaw eyed Purdy coldly: "I said _he's right_. D'you git that?
Meanin' that him, an' his stock, an' his wife, an' everything he's got
is safe an' sound fer as this gang's concerned. He ain't in on
nothin'--same as McWhorter. Only--he don't know nothin'--see? An' if any
of us wants anythin' an' he's goin' to town--all right."
"But, I've be'n aimin' to make him come acrost for over a year, an'----"
"An', now you c'n fergit it! Friends is worth more'n enimies, anyways
you look at it--'special,' in our business. That makes jest eighty-three
ranches, big an little, that the Grimshaw gang counts friends. That's
why we git away with it. They's be'n times when most any of 'em could of
said the word that would of got posses on to us--an' I've made it right
with all of 'em. We don't owe none of 'em nothin'. Why they's plenty of
sheriffs, much as they want to git me, wouldn't bushwhack me--not fer
all the reward money they is, 'cause they know they's be'n times when I
could of got 'em easy, an' didn't. I don't hold it agin' 'em. My rule is
never kill a posse man or a sheriff onless it gits right down to you an'
him fer it. They're doin' their duty accordin' to law--an' the laws has
got to be uphelt--er this would be a hell of a country to live in--fer
most folks." The man ceased speaking and Purdy maintained silence. The
subject of Cinnabar Joe was never mentioned again.
It was not long, however, before Purdy once more fell in the way of
Grimshaw's displeasure. He came into the hang-out late one evening. The
five were playing poker upon a blanket spread upon the floor between the
swinging lamps, but instead of joining them, Purdy seated himself with
his back to the wall, rolled a cigarette, and smoked in silence. A few
deals went around, bets were made, and pots raked in. Grimshaw shuffled
the deck slowly with a sidewise glance toward Purdy: "They say
McWhorter's gal's to home," he announced, casually. Purdy said nothing.
Grimshaw dealt, picked up his hand, examined it minutely, and tossed the
cards onto the blanket. "How about it, Purdy?"
"You seem to know," answered the other, surlily.
"Yes," answered the leader, without even glancing in his direction, "I
generally know what's goin' on in the bad lands, an' out of 'em fer a
ways. Mighty good lookin', they say." No answer from Purdy, and a deal
or two went by. Again Grimshaw tossed away his cards: "Ain't she good
lookin', Purdy?"
Purdy scowled: "Well, what if she is? What you drivin' at? If you got
somethin' to say, why the hell don't you say it?"
Grimshaw cleared his throat: "They ain't never no good comes from mixin'
up with women--in our business. If they're good women they ain't goin'
to have no truck with such as us, nohow--an' if they ain't, they'll
double-cross you sure as hell sometime or other. I've read where most of
the crooks an' outlaws that's caught, is caught 'cause they was stuck on
some woman--either the woman double-crossed 'em, or the sheriffs or
officers watches the woman, an' nabs the man when he goes to see her.
'Twas a woman got Billy the Kid caught--an' I could name some more right
here in Montana."
"Guess ridin' over to git McWhorter to fetch me out some tobacco from
town ain't goin' to hurt none."
"No. Only McWhorter won't be goin' to town till after lambin', an' it
looks like he could remember tobacco with one tellin', instead of six in
ten days."
Purdy's anger flared up: "Keep pretty close cases, don't you? Whose
business is it if I was over there sixteen times? I ain't in jail, am
I?"
"No--not yet, you ain't." Grimshaw's voice was low and hard. The game
had ceased, and the four others were watching the two. "An', by the way
things is framin', I don't expect you'll ever git there." There was
something ominous in the man's words, and Purdy shifted uncomfortably.
"I didn't s'pose it mattered what a man done--between jobs," he
muttered.
"It don't--so long as he leaves women alone, an' don't do nothin' that
puts this gang in bad."
"I never told her nothin' about the gang. I ain't goin' to marry her."
"I know damned well you ain't. She despises you because yer a
horse-thief." Grimshaw's voice suddenly dropped lower, "an', if she
know'd what I know--an' what all Wolf River knows she'd know that yer
horse-thievin' is the best thing about you."
Purdy laughed nastily: "Cinnabar Joe spilled a mouthful, did he? I fell
down on that job--maybe I'll have better luck, next time."
Grimshaw nodded: "Mebbe you will. But, McWhorter's like Cinnabar Joe,
an' all the rest that's friends of mine--he's safe, an' his stock's
safe, an' By God, his _girl's_ safe!" The leader paused and allowed his
eyes to travel slowly over the faces of his five companions, "That
goes--an' whatever else I say goes." And Purdy, watching narrowly from
the corner of his eye, saw that, of the other four only Bill's eyes
stood Grimshaw's gaze unflinching, and in the dim shadow his lips
twisted into a sardonic grin. What Purdy did not see was that Grimshaw
had seen exactly what he saw, and not only that, he had seen Purdy's
smile, but with a perfectly impassive face, the leader spread his
blanket and stretched himself upon the floor.