BACK ON RED SAND
While Cass Grimshaw and Bill Harlow rounded up the horses, and
transferred the girl's saddle from the dead mare to one of the animals
belonging to the outlaws, Endicott and Bat assisted Janet to bind up the
Texan's wound.
When at last they were ready for the trail, Grimshaw called Endicott
aside: "You an' the breed come along with me," he whispered, "you must
be middlin' anxious to see yer wife, an' I'll take you to Cinnabar
Joe's. The girl, there, she knows the way, an' they can follow along
slower," he paused and winked, "he won't be wantin' to ride no ways
fast--on account of that leg."
Endicott's eyes lighted with sudden understanding as he glanced at the
two figures who stood side by side near the horses: "By George!" he
exclaimed, "I wonder----"
"Wonder--hell! Give 'em a chance! Come on, we'll pull out. Bill, he'll
h'ist him onto his horse, an' then he'll stay an' drop them corpses down
some mud crack."
As Endicott leaped from his horse in front of Cinnabar Joe's cabin, his
wife rushed from the door and threw herself into his arms.
"Oh, Win--Win--dear!" she sobbed, "oh--can you ever forgive me? But--it
was the only way--they'd have killed him!"
Endicott soothed her: "Forgive you! I have nothing to forgive, dearest.
I know it's all right! At first I was a little--worried, but Old Bat
came along--and after that, I knew it was all right--but come on, let's
go inside and you can tell me all about it!"
Cinnabar Joe greeted Grimshaw and Bat at the horse corral: "Seen Tex?"
he asked anxiously. Grimshaw nodded: "Yeh--we seen him."
"Did he--git Purdy?"
Grimshaw shook his head: "No--he didn't git him. He almost, but he
didn't quite."
Without a word, Cinnabar turned, entered the corral, and stepped out a
few moments later leading a saddled horse.
"Where you goin'?" asked Grimshaw.
"To Wolf River."
"Wolf River! What's goin' on in Wolf River that you're so hell bent to
take in?"
Cinnabar hesitated just an instant, then he spoke: "You might as well
know it as the rest of 'em. I'm goin' to give myself up, an' I want to
beat Purdy to it. He's got somethin' on me--a hold-up that I was partly
mixed up in, way back when I was a kid. I never got none of the money,
an' I've be'n on the level since. I figgered I'd payed fer that long
ago. But, if Purdy got away, he'll tip me off. It's goin' to be hard as
hell on her." He nodded toward his wife, who stood at some distance
talking earnestly with Old Bat.
Grimshaw leaned over and laid a hand on the man's shoulder: "Put up yer
horse, boy," he said; "you've got a nice little outfit started here--you
an' her. Stay right with it--an' stay on the level. Forgit anything that
might of happened a long time ago. It's the things you do now, an' what
yer goin' to do that counts. Tex didn't git Purdy--but they was five
more of us there to back up his play. We was all of us more or less
handy with our guns. An' between the whole of us--we managed to git him.
Purdy's dead, Cinnabar--dead as Julius Cæsar, an' all his pals is
dead--an' whatever he had on you died with him."
"There comes Tex, now!" cried Cinnabar, pointing to two riders who
appeared outlined for a moment against the opposite valley rim, before
beginning the descent of the slope. "He's ridin' McWhorter's blue roan.
But who's that with him? Why--it's McWhorter's girl! But, what horse has
she got? She busted out of here two or three hours ago ridin' her bay
mare!"
As the two riders approached across the narrow valley, Grimshaw fingered
his stubby beard: "There's a pair to draw to," he muttered.
"Do you mean----?"
"Yes--that's just what I mean! But, they rode a damn sight faster than
what I would, at that."
"Hey, Bat! You old reprobate!" called the Texan, as his horse ascended
the bank from the creek, "take Cinnabar's cayuse an' beat it for Wolf
River! An' you make him scratch gravel! Now's the chance to do me a good
turn on account of them four-bits I give you--way back in Las
Vegas--remember?"
The old half-breed grinned broadly: "_Oui_, A'm 'member dat fo'-bit."
Reaching into his shirt he withdrew a half-dollar suspended from his
neck by a greasy thong of rawhide. "See, A'm ain' fergit. Dat fo'-bit
she giv' me chanc' to pay heem back 'bout seex-seven hondre tam'. W'at
you wan' in Wo'f Reevaire? Nodder pilgrim to hang, eh, _bien_?"
Joining in the laugh that followed the old half-breed's sally, the Texan
rode to his side and handed him some yellow bills. "You hit the trail
now--an' hit it hard. An' you show up here tomorrow morning with a
preacher an' a round yellow ring--savvy?"
"_Oui!_ De pries' an' de ring! _Voila!_" The old man looked straight
into the eyes of the girl who sat her horse close beside the Texan. "You
gon' mar' heem tomor'?"
Janet, blushing furiously, laughed an affirmative.
Bat nodded: "Dat good. You git de bes' dam' man on de worl'! Dat Tex
mebbe-so she git to be de gov'--de w'at you call, de _president_! But,
som'tam' he lak de bad boy an' you got to knock hell out of heem to mak'
heem good. Ol' Bat--he know. For er long tam' A'm know heem. You lov'
heem lak hell. Een de eye A'm see it--an' een de eye A'm see you gon'
to mak heem stay good----"
"Hey, you old leather image!" laughed the Texan, "what are you tryin' to
do--scare me out?"
"Ba Goss! A'm lak A'm see you scare wan tam'! You bet A'm ride wan
hondre mile to laff on you. You git de dam' fine 'oman. Now you got to
mak' her, w'at you call, de happiness. Bye-m-bye, Ol' Bat, she git to
ol' to ride de range--to cook. Den A'm joos' stay 'roun' an' look
aftaire _les enfants_. A'm show um how to ride, an' shoot, an' t'row de
rope--joos' so good lak de _pere_ kin do, _ah voila_!"
Janet fled precipitously for the cabin, and as Bat mounted Cinnabar's
horse and headed out onto the trail, the Texan turned to Grimshaw: "Slip
over to McWhorter's tomorrow, Cass," he invited--"I'd like to have you
there."
Grimshaw hesitated just a moment: "You're sure you want me? You ain't
askin' me just so I won't feel--left out? An' how about the others? How
about yer--wife? She never has had no time for us horse-thieves."
The Texan smiled: "She's learnt a lot in the last couple of hours, Cass.
If you ain't at the weddin' she'll be the most disappointed one of all."
"All right, boy--I'll come. I got to be goin' now." He ran his fingers
over his stubby beard, "Sure is goin' to be hell to shave."
As the Texan swung from his horse, a feminine shriek of joy directed his
attention toward the cabin, where in the doorway Alice and Janet stood
locked in each other's embrace--laughing, crying, talking all at once,
while Endicott smilingly beckoned to Tex.
"Oh, you darling!" Alice was saying, "I'm so glad! I picked you for him
the moment I laid eyes on you--and then I nearly spoiled it all by my
eulogy."
"But--" stammered Janet, "what about the other girl--the one from the
East--that you were going to invite out? You said she was
beautiful--and--and adorable and--you were just going to _make_ her
marry him!"
"From the East!" Alice exclaimed, "I'm sure I didn't say anything about
the East. I said there was a girl friend of mine--and I did say she was
beautiful and adorable--and she is--and I said I was going to invite her
to come and make me a long visit--and I _did_ invite her--before she
left the room in a huff--and went tearing off into the bad lands to find
her lover----"
Janet smothered the rest of the sentence in kisses: "Well, anyway--you
didn't make her marry him," she said, "because she intended to marry him
anyway--if she could get him to ask her!"
A couple of hours later while the three women were in the cabin
preparing supper, Tex, and Endicott, and Cinnabar sat outside and talked
and listened to the sounds of laughter that floated through the door.
"Look at old Whiskers comin'," said Tex, indicating a horseman who
appeared around the corner of the barn.
Cinnabar chuckled: "Whiskers! Why man, that's yer new dad! That's old
Colin McWhorter--an' if you don't make a hit with him, believe me--he'll
cut your head off!"
The huge Scotchman dismounted, nodded and addressed Cinnabar Joe: "Ha'
ye seen my daughter?" Before Cinnabar could answer the girl herself
rushed from the door and threw herself into the big man's arms: "Theer,
theer, wee lass, ha' they hurt ye? Ye're face is red like the fire-weed!
I'll----"
"No! No! Dad! I'm--so happy! I'm--I'm going to be married tomorrow! I
want you to meet my--Mr. Benton--Tex! And, oh Dad--you'll just love him!
I knew it was all a mistake--about that horrid hand-bill--here are Mr.
and Mrs. Endicott--they know him well--and Cinnabar and his wife have
known him for years."
McWhorter stood glaring at Tex who returned him look for look. "Was it
for thot I looked after her a' her life--educated her--thot she sh'ud
marry a common cowpuncher!"
The Texan stepped directly before him and reaching up a finger tapped
the irate man's breast: "Look here, old timer. I'm a common cowpuncher,
just as you say--but, at that, I don't take off my hat to any sheep-man!
You an' I are goin' to be big friends, once we get strung out. I like
you already. I've got you sized up for one of the biggest hearted old
specimens on the range. But, at that, you like to get your growl in--an'
get it in first. Well--you've growled--an' you haven't fooled no
one--nor scairt no one. If you want a little further dope on me here
goes. I'm from Texas--come from good enough folks down there so they
haven't been able to beat the Old Man for Congress in twenty years. I've
be'n somethin' of a black sheep--but the black's wearin' off in spots.
I've got as good an education, I reckon, as anyone here--an' a damn
sight better one than I need in my business. I walk on my hind legs an'
eat with a fork. I've got a job--eighty bucks a month, an'
found--foreman of the Y Bar outfit, over across the river. Some day I
expect to own an outfit of my own!" He ceased suddenly, and reaching
out, drew the girl from her father's arms and held her to his side, "An'
last of all--an' as far as I can see, the only thing that really
matters--I love this little girl----"
"Losh! Lad!" cried the old Scot, his eyes a-twinkle. "Ye fair talk me
off my feet! 'Tis na wonder she took ye--ye ne'er gi' her a chance to
say no!"
"Supper's ready!" called Jennie, from the interior of the cabin, and it
was a merry company indeed, that filed in and took their places at the
table--extended for the occasion by means of planks carried in from
Cinnabar's unfinished stable.
"I've just bought an outfit, over on the other side," said Endicott,
when the last vestige of Jennie's pies had disappeared from the plates,
and the thick cups had been filled with black coffee. "And Cinnabar, do
you know where I could find a foreman?"
"On the other side!" exclaimed the Texan. "You! Didn't know there was an
outfit for sale over there! What is it, Win--sheep, or cattle?"
"Cattle."
Cinnabar shook his head.
Endicott continued, "He must be capable, sober, understand the cattle
business, and--married."
"Don't know no one that would quite fill the bill," grinned Cinnabar
Joe.
"Hey, Win," cut in Tex, "how would I do? I'm capable of some
things--sometimes. I've got Cinnabar, here, for a witness that upon
certain occasions I've be'n sober. I understand the cow business or old
Dad Colston wouldn't of made me foreman--an' tomorrow, everyone here's
goin' to be witnesses that I'm married! How about it--don't that fill
the bill?"
Endicott laughed: "I guess that fills the bill, Tex," he said. "You're
hired!"
"But--what outfit did you buy, Win?"
"The Y Bar," answered Endicott, "and Colston told me that if I couldn't
find you for foreman, I'd sure be out of luck."
"The Y Bar!" Tex reached over and grasped Endicott's hand. "Boss--you've
got the best outfit in Montana!"
"Not--boss--Tex. What you meant was 'Partner.' You see I forgot to
mention that the man who accepted the position would have to accept a
half-interest in the outfit--his time and his experience--against my
money." A dead silence followed the words--a silence broken a moment
later by the sound of Janet, sobbing softly against her father's
shoulder--and by the big Scotchman's rumbling words: "Theer, theer, wee
lassie--theer, theer."
AN EPILOGUE
The ceremony that took place the following afternoon in the McWhorter
cabin was impressive in its extreme simplicity.
At the conclusion of the wedding feast, McWhorter arose, passed into his
own room, and returned a moment later with a bottle of wine, which he
held to the sunlight: "'Tis auld," he said, reverently, "an' of famous
vintage. Its mate was drunk years ago at my ain' weddin' in Sco'lan'. I
ha' saved this--for _hers_." Very carefully he broke the seal, and
withdrew the cork, and poured a little of the precious liquid into each
thick glass: "We will drink," he said, solemnly, "to the health an'
prosperity of--my children!" They drank, and the old Scotchman divided
the remaining wine as before. "An' now, Meester Endicott can ye not
propose us a toast?"
Endicott rose and allowed his eyes to travel slowly over the upturned
faces about him. He began to speak: "Here we are--we and our women--a
cattleman, and a sheep-man; a minister of the gospel, and a horse-thief;
an ex-bartender, a half-breed, and a Harvard man who until a year ago
was of the strictest and most hide-hound sect of the New
Englanders--and as Cass Grimshaw so aptly phrased it yesterday--'We are
all friends together.' Let us drink--to the wonderful free-masonry of
the cow-country!"