THE CLEAN-UP
The Wolf Saloon was in a big frame building that stood at a little
distance from the back of the street, with a wide, open space on each
side of it. Lights were flickering from some of the upstairs windows of
the building when Shorty and the other Circle L men reached town. Shorty
and his men had ridden hard, and they had seen a horse and rider halt in
front of the building while they were yet a mile or so out on the
plains. And when Shorty's horse struck the edge of town Shorty headed
him straight for the Wolf, veering when he reached it and passing to the
open space from which ran an outside stairway. The other men followed
Shorty's example, and they were close at his heels when he slipped off
his horse and ran around to the front of the Wolf.
Warden had come out shortly before; he was now in his office farther
down the street, congratulating himself upon the outcome of the incident
in the saloon. He had struck a damaging blow at Lawler. At a stroke he
was evening his score with the latter.
Several other men had emerged from the saloon. When Shorty reached the
front door four men were just emerging, carrying another. Suspicious,
alert, Shorty halted the men and peered closely at the face of the man
they were carrying.
"It's Joe Hamlin!" he said as he recognized the other's face.
Shorty's eyes were glowing with rage and suspicion.
"What's happened?" he demanded of one of the men.
"Rukus," shortly replied one. "Hamlin, here, tried to draw on Slade, an'
Slade----"
"Slade!"
Shorty almost screamed the words. He straightened, his face grew
convulsed. Pausing on the verge of violent action, he heard Hamlin's
voice:
"Shorty!"
Shorty leaned over. Straining, his muscles working, his eyes blazing,
Shorty heard low words issuing from Hamlin's lips:
"Slade done it, Shorty. An' he's got Ruth--took her upstairs.
Shorty--save her--for God's sake!"
Shorty straightened. "Take this man to the doctor--he's hit bad!" The
words were flung at the four men; and Shorty was on the move before he
finished.
Blackburn and the others were close behind him when he burst into the
front door of the saloon.
The saloon occupied the entire lower floor. A bar ran the length of the
room from front to rear. In the center of the room was a roulette wheel;
near it was a faro table; and scattered in various places were other
tables. Some oil-lamps in clusters provided light for the card and
gambling tables; and behind the bar were several bracket lamps.
There were perhaps a score of men in the room when Shorty and the Circle
L men burst in. Shorty had come to a halt in the glare of one of the
big clusters of lights, and his friends had halted near him.
The giant made a picture that brought an awed hush over the place. He
stood in the glaring light, a gun in each hand, the muscles of his face
and neck standing out like whipcords; his legs a-sprawl, his eyes
blazing with awful rage as they roved around the room, scanning the
faces of every man there. The other Circle L men had drawn their
weapons, too. But Shorty dominated. It was upon him that all eyes
turned; it was upon his crimson, rage-lined face that every man looked.
He was a figure of gigantic proportions--a mighty man in the grip of the
blood-lust.
"You guys stand. Every damned one of you! Don't move a finger or bat an
eyelash! I've come a-killin'!" he said in a low, tense voice, the words
coming with a snap, jerkily, like the separate and distinct lashes of a
whip.
Not a man in the room moved, nor did their fascinated eyes waver for an
instant from Shorty's face.
"Where's Slade?"
He shot the words at them. He saw their eyes waver for an instant from
his and they looked toward the stairs in the rear--the stairs that Ruth
Hamlin had seen when for an instant after throwing the door of the room
open she had glanced down to see the room full of men, all looking at
her.
The concentrated gazing of the men at the stairs told Shorty what he
wanted to know. He spoke to Blackburn, throwing the words back over his
shoulder:
"Hold 'em right where they are--damn 'em!"
Then with a few gigantic bounds he was at the foot of the stairs. In a
few more he had gained the top, where he pressed his huge shoulder
against the door. It gave a little--enough to further enrage the giant.
He drew back a little and literally hurled himself against it. It burst
open, Shorty keeping his feet as the wreck fell away from him. And he
saw Slade, with a hand over Ruth's mouth, standing near the foot of the
bed.
Evidently Slade had been about to release Ruth when he heard the door
crashing behind him; for at the instant Shorty emerged from the wreck he
saw that the girl's body was already falling--toward the bed--as Slade
drew away from her and reached for his guns.
They came out--both of them--streaking fire and smoke. But they never
came to the deadly level to which Slade sought to throw them; for
Shorty's guns were crashing at Slade's first movement, and the bullets
from the outlaw's weapons thudded into the board floor, harmlessly, and
Slade lurched forward--almost to Shorty's side--his guns loosening in
his hands and falling, one after the other, to the floor. He grinned,
with hideous satire, into Shorty's face as he tried, vainly, to steady
himself.
"Warden--the damned skunk--said Lawler would come--first!" he said, with
horrible pauses. He lurched again, still grinning satirically; and
slumped to the floor, where he turned slowly over on his back and lay
still.
Shorty glanced at Ruth, who was huddled on the bed; then he wheeled, and
leaped for the stairs.
Before he reached the bottom, Ruth sat up and stared dazedly about. She
had heard the crashing of the pistols, though the reports had seemed to
come from a great distance--faintly, dully. But when she reeled to her
feet and saw Slade lying on the floor, his upturned face ghastly in the
feeble light from the oil-lamp, she knew that someone had saved her, and
she yielded, momentarily, to a great joy that weakened her so that she
had to sit on the edge of the bed to steady herself.
It was not for long; and presently she got up and swayed to the door at
the top of the stairs, holding onto the jamb while she looked downward.
When her eyes grew accustomed to the light she paled.
In the big room were many men. She saw Shorty standing among them--she
recognized them as Circle L cowboys. Shorty's guns were out; in fact the
men in the group near Shorty seemed to bristle with weapons.
At the rear of the room was another group of men. They stood motionless,
silent, and had no weapons in their hands. But some of them were
crouching, their faces grim and set.
And then Ruth heard Shorty's voice--hoarse, raucous with passion:
"You guys that don't belong to Slade's gang, get out! Fan it! You Slade
men stand! I know every damned one of you!"
There was a short silence, during which several men slipped away from
the group at the rear of the room and bolted for the rear door. And
then, suddenly, as Shorty muttered words that Ruth did not hear, both
groups of men leaped into action.
Ruth saw the men in the group at the rear reach, concertedly, for their
weapons; she saw smoke streaks stabbing the heavy atmosphere of the big
room; heard the roar and crash of pistols; saw men falling, to land in
grotesque positions; saw Shorty, huge and terrible amid the billowing
smoke, shoot a man who tried to leap over the bar, so that he fell
across it limply, as though sleeping. She observed another man--one of
Slade's--dodge behind a card table, rest his pistol for an instant on
its top, and shoot at Shorty. She saw Shorty snap a shot at the man, saw
the man's head wobble as he sank behind the table. And then she was
suddenly aware that it was ended. A ghastly silence fell. Through the
heavy smoke she saw Shorty, standing where he had stood all along--near
the cluster of lights just inside the front door. It seemed to her that
the room was full of motionless figures of men, strewing the floor.
She was sick and weak, but she knew she must get out into the air or she
would faint; and so she began to descend the stairs, holding to the
slender railing for support.
She got down without anyone seeing her. No one seemed to pay any
attention to her. As she reached a side door--opening into the space
from which the outside stairs ran--she looked back, to see Shorty and a
number of Circle L men clustered around Blackburn--who was sitting in a
chair, looking very white.
She got out into the open and ran toward the street, hardly knowing
what she intended to do. Whatever happened, she did not want to stay
longer in the Wolf. She had a feeling that if she could find Moreton she
would be safe until Shorty and the Circle L men completed the grim work
upon which they were engaged. For she knew that the Circle L men had
sworn to square their account with the outlaws--and, knowing the
circumstances of the fight on the plains the previous spring, she could
not blame them for what they had done.
And yet she wanted to get away from the scene--anywhere.
She halted in front of the Wolf, and saw a number of men on the
street--and others running toward the building. She moved down the
street toward the station, and as she passed a group of men she saw a
man running toward her, shouting loudly:
"Lawler's here! What in hell is comin' off? Lawler just got off a
special train! He looks like he looked that day he rode into town
lookin' for Gary Warden!"
Far down the street Ruth saw him coming. He was running, and she leaped
to meet him, unaware that Shorty and the other Circle L men had emerged
from the front door of the Wolf and were listening to the man who had
brought the news of Lawler's arrival.
She was aware of nothing but the fact that Lawler was coming. And when,
running toward him, she saw him stop dead short, she cried aloud with
joy:
"O Kane! Kane!"
And then his big arms went around her, and she nestled close to him,
shuddering, sobbing, laughing.
Excitedly, rapidly, as he held her, she related the story of the night's
adventure. Then Shorty and the others came up. She and Lawler were
standing in front of a store, in a glare of light that came through a
big window; and she saw his lips straighten when she told him what Slade
had done.
"Shorty," he said, grimly; "take care of her."
And then, despite her struggles--for she knew that he was going to seek
Warden--she found herself a captive in the giant's arms, while Lawler
ran down the street toward Warden's office.