HOW MAC STRANN KEPT THE LAW
For when the dog sprang, Mac Strann fired, and the wolf was jerked up in
the midst of his leap by the tearing impact of the bullet. It was easy
for Strann to dodge the beast, and the great black body hurtled past him
and struck heavily on the floor of the barn. It missed Mac Strann,
indeed, but it fell at the very feet of Haw-Haw Langley, and a splash of
blood flirted across his face. He was too terrified to shriek, but fell
back against the wall of the barn, gasping. There he saw Black Bart
struggle to regain his feet, vainly, for both of the animal's forelegs
seemed paralyzed. Now the yellow light of the fire rose brightly, and by
it Haw-Haw marked the terrible eyes and the lolling, slavering tongue of
the great beast, and the fangs like ivory daggers. It could not regain
its feet, but it thrust itself forward by convulsive efforts of the hind
legs towards Mac Strann.
Haw-Haw Langley stared for a single instant in white faced fear, but
when he realised that Black Bart was helpless as a toothless old dog,
the tall cowpuncher, twisted his lean fingers with a silent joy. Once
more Bart pushed himself towards Mac Strann, and then Haw-Haw Langley
stepped forward, and with all the force of his long leg smashed his
heavy riding boot into the face of the dog. Black Bart toppled back
against the base of the manger, struggled vainly to regain his poise,
and it was then that he pointed his nose up, and wailed like a lost
soul, wailed with the fury of impotent hate. Mac Strann caught Haw-Haw
by the arm and dragged him back towards the door.
"I don't want to _kill_ the dog," he repeated. "Get out of here,
Haw-Haw. Barry'll be comin' any minute."
He could have used no sharper spur to urge on the laggard. Haw-Haw
Langley raced out of the barn a full stride before Mac Strann. They
hurried together to the little rise of ground behind which they had left
their horses, and as they ran the scream which had curdled the blood of
Randall Byrne rang through the night. In a thousand years he could never
have guessed from what that yell issued; his nearest surmise would have
been a score of men screaming in unison under the torture. But Mac
Strann and Haw-Haw Langley knew the sound well enough.
When they mounted their saddles they could look over the top of the
little hill and observe everything easily without being seen; for the
hill-top commanded a range of the corrals and a view of the fronts of
the barns and sheds which opened upon the fenced enclosures. The largest
and longest of these buildings was now plainly visible, for a long arm
of fire reached above the roof on one side of the low shed and by this
growing light the other barns, the glimmering-eyed horses and cattle of
the corrals, the trees about the house, the house itself, were in turn
visible, though vaguely, and at times, as the flame lapsed, all were
lost in a flood of swift darkness. Once more that unhuman shriek echoed
from hill to hill and from building to building. It was Satan in his box
stall. The flames were eating through the partition, and the stallion
was mad with fear.
Lights flashed, here and there, in the big ranch house; and from the
bunk-house on the farther side of the corrals rose a volley of curses
and yells of dismay. The cattle began milling blindly, bellowing and
stamping, and the horses ranged at a mad gallop back and forth across
their corrals, wild-eyed with terror. It was like the tumult of a
battle, and sharper than a trumpet a new sound cut through the din--it
was a short, high whistle, twice repeated. An answer came from the
burning barn--the long, strong neighing of the stallion.
"D'ye hear?" muttered Mac Strann. "It's the hoss talkin' to his master!"
"And there he comes!" said Haw-Haw Langley. "Runnin' like the wind!"
The flame, picked up by the gale, tore for itself a wider breathing
space through the roof and sent up an audibly roaring column of blinding
red. By that light, Mac Strann, following Haw-Haw's directing arm, saw a
lithe figure vault over the fence on the farther side of the corral and
dart forward among the milling cattle.
Now, when cattle begin to mill it takes a brave man on a brave,
well-trained horse to trust his chances in the midst of that ocean of
tossing horns. But this man ventured it on foot. Mac Strann could follow
him easily, for the man's hat was off, and the firelight glittered on
his black hair. That glimmering head darted here and there among the
circling cattle. Now it was lost, swamped, to all appearances, under a
score of trampling hooves. Again it reappeared on the further side. Mac
Strann could see the runner in a comparatively open space, racing like a
trained sprinter, and he headed straight towards a wall of tossing
horns. They were long-horns, and one sway of those lowered heads could
drive the hard, sharp point through and through the body of a man. Yet
straight at this impassable wall the stranger rushed, like a warrior in
his Berserker madness leaping naked upon a hedge of spears. At the verge
of the danger the man sprang high into the air. Two leaps, from back to
back among the herd, and he was across the thickest of danger, down once
more on the ground, and dodging past the outskirts of the bellowing
cows. Over the nearer fence he vaulted and disappeared into the smoke
which vomitted from the mouth of the burning barn.
"God A'mighty," groaned Haw-Haw Langley, "can he get the hoss out?"
"It ain't possible," answered Mac Strann. "All hosses goes mad when
they gets in a fire--even when they sees a fire. Look at them fools over
yonder in the corral."
Indeed, in the horse-corral a score of frantic animals were attempting
to leap the high rails in the direction of the burning barn. Their
stamping and snorting came volleying up the hill to the watchers.
"All hosses goes mad," concluded Mac Strann, "an' Barry'll get tramped
under the feet of his own hoss even if he gets to the stall--which he
won't. Look there!"
Out of the rush of fire and smoke at the door of the barn Dan Barry
stumbled, blindly, and fell back upon the ground. Haw-Haw Langley began
to twist his cold hands together in an ecstasy.
"The hoss is gone and the wolf is gone, and Barry is beat!" he chuckled
to himself. "Mac, I wouldn't of missed this for a ten days' ride. It's
worth it. But see the gal and that new gent, Mac!"
* * * * *
For when the clamour arose outside the house, Buck Daniels had run to
the window. For many reasons he had not taken off his clothes this
night, but had lain down on the bed and folded his hands behind his head
to wait. With the first outcry he was at the window and there he saw the
flames curling above the roof of the barn, and next, by that wild light,
how Dan Barry raced through the dangerous corral, and then he heard the
shrill neighing of Satan, and saw Dan disappear in the smoking door of
the barn.
Fear drew Buck Daniels one way but a fine impulse drew him another. He
turned away from the window with a curse; he turned back to it with a
curse, and then, muttering: "He went through hell for me; and him and me
together, we'll go through hell again!" he ran from the room and
thundered down the crazy stairs.
As he left the house he found Kate Cumberland, and they went on
together, running without a word to each other. Only, when he came
beside her, she stopped short and flashed one glance at him. By that
glance he knew that she understood why he was there, and that she
accepted his sacrifice.
They hurried around the outer edge of the corrals, and as they
approached the flaming barn from one side the men from the bunk-house
rushed up from the other. It was Buck Daniels who reached Dan as the
latter stumbled back from the door of the barn, surrounded by a
following cloud of smoke, and fell stumbling to the ground. And Buck
raised him.
The girl was instantly beside them.
She had thrown on a white dressing gown when she rose from bed. It was
girded high across her breast, and over it showered her bright hair,
flashing like liquid gold in growing light. She, now, received the
semi-conscious burden of Dan Barry, and Buck Daniels stepped forward,
close to the smoke. He began to shout directions which the two watchers
behind the hill could not hear, though they saw his long arms point and
gesticulate and they could see his speaking lips. But wild confusion
was on the crowd of cowpunchers. They ran here and there. One or two
brought buckets of water and tossed the contents uselessly into the
swirling, red-stained hell of smoke. But most of them ran here and
there, accomplishing nothing.
"An' all this come from one little match, Mac," cried Haw-Haw
ecstatically at the ear of Mac Strann. "All what we're seein'! Look at
the gal, Mac! She's out of her wits! She's foolin' about Barry, doin' no
good."
A gust of smoke and fire must have met Barry face to face when he
entered the barn, for he seemed now as helpless as if he were under a
strong narcotic influence. He leaned heavily back into the arms of the
girl, his head rolling wildly from side to side. Then, clearer than
before, dominating all the confusion of noise, and with a ringing,
trumpet note of courage in it, the black stallion neighed again from his
burning stall. It had a magic effect upon Barry. He stood up and tore
himself from the arms of the girl. They saw her gesture and cry to the
surrounding men for help, and a dozen hands were stretched out to keep
the madman from running again into the fire. They might better have
attempted to hold a wild horse with their naked hands. He slipped and
broke through their grips, and a second later had leaped into the
inferno of smoke, running bent close to the ground where the pure air,
if there were any, was sure to be.
"The gal's sick!" said Haw-Haw Langley. "Look, Mac!"
And he began to laugh in that braying voice which had given him his
nickname. Yet even in his laughter his eyes were brightly observant; not
a single detail of misery or grief was lost upon him; he drank it in; he
fed his famine-stricken soul upon it. Kate Cumberland had buried her
face in her arms; Buck Daniels, attempting to rush in after Dan Barry,
had been caught beneath the arms by Doctor Byrne and another and was now
borne struggling back.
From the very heart of the burning barn the sharp single whistle burst
and over the rolling smoke and spring fire rose the answering neigh. A
human voice could not have spoken more intelligibly: "I wait in trust!"
After that neigh and whistle, a quiet fell over the group at the barn
door. There was nothing to do. There was not enough wind to blow the
flames from this barn to one of the neighbouring sheds; all they could
do was to stand still and watch the progress of the conflagration.
The deep, thick voice of Mac Strann broke in: "Start prayin', Haw-Haw,
that the hoss don't kill Barry when he gets to him. Start prayin' that
Barry is left for me to finish."
He must have meant his singular request more as a figure of speech than
a real demand, but an hysteria was upon Haw-Haw Langley. He stretched up
his vast, gaunt arms to the dim spot of red in the central heavens
above the fire, and Haw-Haw prayed for the first and last time in his
life.
"O Lord, gimme this one favour. Bring Barry safe out of the barn. Bring
him out even if you got to bring the damned hoss with him. Bring him out
and save him for Mac Strann to meet. And, God A'mighty, let me be around
somewhere's when they meet!"
This strange exhibition Mac Strann watched with a glowering eye.
"But it ain't possible," he said positively. "I been in fires. Barry
can't live through the fire; an' if he does, the hoss will finish him.
It ain't possible for him to come out!"
From half the roof of the shed flames now poured, but presently a great
shower of sparks rose at the farther end of the barn, and then Haw-Haw
heard the sound of a beating and crashing.
"Hei!" he screamed, "Barry's reached the black hoss and the black hoss
is beating him into the floor!"
"You fool!" answered Mac Strann calmly, "Barry has got a beam or
something and he's smashing down the burning partition of the box stall.
That's what he's doing; listen!"
High over the fire, once again rose the neighing of the black horse, a
sound of unspeakable triumph.
"You're right," groaned Haw-Haw, downcast. "He's reached the hoss!"
He had hardly finished speaking when Mac Strann said: "Anyway, he'll
never get out. This end wall of the barn is fallin' in."
Indeed, the outer wall of the barn, nearest the door, was wavering in a
great section and slowly tottering in. Another moment or two it would
crash to the floor and block the way of Dan Barry, coming out, with a
flaming ruin. Next the watchers saw a struggle among the group which
watched. Three men were struggling with Buck Daniels, but presently he
wrenched his arms free, struck down two men before him with swinging
blows of his fists, and leaped into the smoke.
"He's gone nutty, like a crazy hoss with the sight of the fire," said
Mac Strann quietly.
"He ain't! He ain't!" cried Haw-Haw Langley, wild with excitement. "He's
holdin' back the burnin' wall to keep the way clear, damn him!"
Indeed, the tottering wall, not having leaned to a great angle, was now
pushed back by some power from the inside of the barn and kept erect.
Though now and again it swayed in, as though the strength which held it
was faltering under the strain.
Now the eyes of the watchers were called to the other end of the barn by
a tremendous crashing. The entire section of that part of the roof fell
in, and a shower of sparks leaped up into the heart of the sky, lighting
the distant hills and drawing them near like watchers of the horror of
the night.
"That's the end," said Mac Strann. "Haw-Haw, they wasn't any good in
your prayer."
"I ain't a professional prayin' man," answered Haw-Haw defensively, "but
I done my best. If----" He was cut short by a chorused cry from the
watchers near the door of the barn, and then, through the vomitted smoke
and the fire, leaped the unsaddled body of Satan bearing on his back the
crouched figure of Dan Barry, and in the arms of Barry, limp, his head
hanging down loosely, was the body of the great black dog, Bart.
A fearful picture. The smoke swept following around the black stallion,
and a great tongue of flame licked hungrily after the trio. But the
stallion stood with head erect, and ears flattened, pawing the ground.
With that cloud of destruction blowing him he stood like the charger
which the last survivor might ride through the ruin of the universe in
the Twilight of the Gods.
At the same instant, another smoke-clad figure lunged from the door of
the barn, his hands outstretched as though he felt and fumbled his way
through utter darkness. It was Buck Daniels, and as he cleared the door
the section of tottering wall which he had upheld to keep the way clear
for the Three, wavered, sagged, and then sank in thunder to the floor,
and the whole barn lay a flame-tossed mass of ruin.
The watchers had scattered before the plunge of Satan, but he came to a
sliding halt, as if his rider had borne heavily back upon the reins.
Barry slipped from the stallion's back with the wounded dog, and kneeled
above the limp figure.
"It ain't the end," growled Mac Strann, "that hoss will go runnin' back
into the fire. It ain't hoss nature to keep from goin' mad at the sight
of a fire!"
In answer to him, the black stallion whirled, raised his head high, and,
with flaunting mane and tail, neighed a ringing defiance at the rising
flames. Then he turned back and nuzzled the shoulder of his master, who
was working with swift hands over the body of Black Bart.
"Anyway," snarled Haw-Haw Langley, "the damned wolf is dead."
"I dunno," said Mac Strann. "Maybe--maybe not. They's quite a pile that
we dunno."
"If you want to get rid of the hoss," urged Haw-Haw, writhing in the
glee of a new inspiration, "now's the time for it, Mac. Get out your gun
and pot the black. Before the crowd can get after us, we'll be miles
away. They ain't a saddled hoss in sight. Well, if you don't want to do
it, I will!" And he whipped out his gun.
But Mac Strann reached across and dragged the muzzle down.
"We done all we're goin' to do to-night. Seems like God's been listenin'
pretty close, around here!"
He turned his horse, and Haw-Haw, reluctantly, followed suit. Still, as
they trotted slowly away from the burning barn, Haw-Haw kept his glance
fixed behind him until a final roaring crash and a bellying cloud of
fire that smote the zenith announced the end of the barn. Then Haw-Haw
turned his face to his companion.
"Now what?" he demanded.
"We go to Elkhead and sit down and wait," answered Mac Strann. "If the
dog gets well he'll bring Barry to us. Then all I've got to do is defend
myself."
Haw-Haw Langley twisted up his face and laughed, silently, to the
red-stained sky.