THE MAN-KILLING BASSETTS
She stood trembling and holding close to him, her eyes on the swarthy
Bassetts and the old squaw who was stirring up the fire; but when they
had retired and left the lovers to themselves Allifair whispered swift
words into Hall's ears.
"They're coming," she warned. "I know it for a certainty, because
Meshackatee told me himself. And they're going to kill all the
Bassetts!"
He gripped her and sat still, his eyes on the weak blaze which was
lapping the black stones of the fireplace, and then he inclined his
head. The Bassett boys were near, lying stolidly on their beds, which
they had dragged back a little into the darkness, but he knew that some
of them were listening. The jealous-eyed Sharps had never ceased to
watch him since the day he had come to the house; and, seeing him now
with this niece of the Scarboroughs, his ears would be straining for
every word.
"They're strangers," she whispered, "some Slash-knife men that Isham
sent out and hired secretly. And when they ride up and catch the
Bassetts off their guard, they're to draw their guns and shoot."
He gripped her again, for she was whispering too loud--or so it seemed
to his jangled nerves--and then he sat waiting in the silence. It
pressed in upon him, as oppressive as the darkness, as fearful as the
thoughts it brought up; and the stir of their breathing, even the
beating of their hearts, took on a terrible distinctness. But her
message was not finished, and as he held her close she whispered very
softly in his ear.
"We must go," she said. "He told me to tell you. He'll be waiting with
horses--down the creek."
He nodded, and his mind slipped back into the past and then leapt
forward to the future. In a whirlwind of dancing visions he pictured
their flight down the dark canyon, and Meshackatee waiting with the
horses; and then his mind struck back and he could see the Bassetts,
and the Slash-knife men riding in. He imagined their short parley, the
secret signal, the flash of guns; and then these men who lay about him
now would be shot down and left like the sheep-herders.
"I can't leave," he whispered back. "I've got to stay and help them.
But you----"
She clutched him again and was whispering earnestly into his ear when
Sharps rose up from his bed. It was just a fold of blankets, laid down
on the dirt floor; and as he rose, Bill rose up too.
"What are you folks whispering about?" demanded Sharps, advancing in
his stocking feet from the gloom, and Winchester sat up suddenly.
"Oh, you mustn't tell!" pleaded Allifair, frantically. "I promised him
I wouldn't, you know."
"Promised who?" inquired Sharps, and as she shrank away from him Hall
laid a soothing hand on her head.
"She came," he said, "to deliver me a message--a friend has offered to
help us escape. We were engaged to be married and I came up here to
find her, but she has been held a kind of prisoner at the Rock House."
"Yes, but didn't I hear her say," challenged Sharps, still unconvinced,
"that some one was coming to kill the Bassetts?"
"You bet you did!" put in Bill, "because I heard it myself. This here
don't look good to me."
"If you gentlemen will just step back," suggested McIvor quietly, "and
let us talk this over a minute----"
"All right," spoke up Winchester, coming quickly to the front, "get
back, boys; we know he's our friend."
"Well, I don't," grumbled Sharps, but he made room, reluctantly, when
Winchester shoved him away. They gathered in a knot in the back part of
the room, arguing angrily among themselves, while Hall talked in low
tones with Allifair.
"I am in honor bound to stay," he ended gently, "so you will have to go
back--and wait."
"What--back to the Rock House?" she protested indignantly. "And leave
you here to be killed! No, Hall, I am going to stay."
"Well, that is your right," he responded, after a silence. "God knows
I'll protect you, if I can. How many did you say there were?"
"Oh, were you going to fight them? Why not leave it to----But no, I
know you too well. There are eight or ten of them, Hall."
"And since your life and mine are involved in it now----"
"You can tell them," she consented, and sighed.
The Bassetts listened grimly as he told the brief story of Isham and
his Slash-knife killers, and then Winchester held out his hand.
"Don't you worry," he said, with a smile to Allifair, "we'll take care
of you, lady--and him. All we needed was to know their little game."
He stepped out jauntily as he laid her a bed by the fire and then took
his brothers outside. What he said Hall never knew but when they came
back even Sharps had a friendly smile.
They slept till daylight--or lay in their blankets--and at dawn there
was a man at every loop-hole, searching the country for the first sight
of the gunmen. The sun was just up when they appeared In the north,
riding down on the Turkey Creek trail: but as they left the brush two
men fell behind and disappeared in the creek bed.
"One of them fellers was Red!" announced Bill, who was looking through
the glasses. "I'd know that wool hat of his anywhere. There's eight of
'em now, altogether."
"Let me look!" demanded Winchester, and after peering through the
port-hole he passed the glasses on to Sharps.
"All Teehannos," he said. "Well, boys, this means business; and we
might as well shoot to kill. I'll meet 'em at the door and when they go
for their guns--well, you know, don't wait too long."
Sharps grunted and caught up his rifle impatiently. Bill watched them
as they rode down the valley; and when they turned off and took the
trail to their house he too dropped down by a port-hole. As for Hall,
he led Allifair to Old Susie's room and leaned his carbine against the
left side of the door. This opened to the right, as most doors do, and
there was a boxing that just hid the gun.
"What's the idee?" inquired Winchester, with the old, care-free smile
which seemed to come to him in moments of danger; and Hall smiled back,
though soberly.
"I'm left-handed," he explained, "that is, with a rifle; with a pistol
I use the right hand. Well, they'll be watching my right hand; but I'll
reach in with my left and have my carbine before they know it."
"And then?" suggested Winchester, but Hall only shrugged and glanced
back significantly at Allifair. Already she had left the room in the
rear and was looking on with growing alarm--for the horses were outside
the door. There was a rush of hounds, a curse and a yelp, and then a
voice hailed the house.
"Well?" inquired Winchester, opening the door about a foot and looking
them over coldly, and the leader of the cowboys spoke roughly.
"We're lost," he said, "been riding all night. What's the chances for
something to eat?"
"I guess you've come to the wrong house," returned Winchester politely.
"That's the Scarborough place over there."
He opened the door and pointed off across the plain, but the Texans
were not to be denied. They were Texans, every one, and there was a
wild look in their eyes as they reined in their horses and sat waiting.
Winchester noted it, but his manner was calm.
"Well, all right," he said, when they protested ignorance of the
Scarboroughs, "we ain't running no restaurant but if you'll wait
outside a while----"
"Outside!" snapped the leader, quick to snatch at some offense, and his
men ranged in behind him.
"We have ladies in the house," explained Winchester, still suavely; and
Allifair appeared behind him.
"Well, tell 'em to come out of that!" ordered the boss cowboy
threateningly, "and git us something to eat!"
"Take her away," whispered Hall, brushing Winchester aside and stepping
in front of Allifair.
"Good morning, gentlemen," he said--"I hope you'll excuse us----"
"Send the women out!" snarled the cowboy, glaring at Hall in a fury.
"You'd better, if you know what's good for you."
"What do you mean?" demanded Hall; and, as Winchester came back and
stood in the door, the killer gave the signal to shoot.
"We have a way," he announced, "of getting what we want!" And he laid
his hand on his gun.
He was quick, but Hall was quicker--his hand snatched out the rifle
and he shot from the hip at the leader. Then as the cowboys drew their
pistols he plunged into the midst of them, shooting right and left with
his carbine. There was a fusillade of pistol shots, the bang of rifles
from loop-holes, and as the horses pitched and jostled three men fell
down between them and were trampled in the wild stampede. The horses
did the rest--they bolted to escape the shooting and their riders soon
gave them their heads. It was a rout, but the Bassetts had gone out of
their heads with rage and the lust for blood. They had turned berserk
in a moment and as the Texans galloped away they shot two more off of
their horses. Of the three men who were left, two took to the creek
bottom and the other dropped down behind his horse.
"Leave him to me!" ordered Winchester, stepping out into the open,
and the killer grabbed for his gun. It was on the wrong side, the one
towards the house, and as he reached under his horse's neck Winchester
shot at his head and clipped off a part of one ear. The killer jerked
back and reached over his horse's neck, only to receive another wound
in the arm.
"Get away from that horse!" shouted Winchester fiercely, and then
shot it through and through. The killer turned and fled, his broken
arm flapping, and the Bassetts let him go. They had had their fill
of killing and blood, for three men lay dead in the yard. Of the two
wounded who escaped, one was never seen again; and the other, fleeing
north, encountered a she bear with cubs, which mangled him so that he
died. Only two escaped unhurt, to return to the Slash-knife and tell of
the man-killing Bassetts.