THE ROUND-UP
_Jesse's Narrative_
While I made signal fires on the top of the cliff, Mr. Robber came to
find out from my wife why for I hadn't called to leave my card at the
South Cave. He's picturesque, says she, hair like a raven's wing, eyes
steel-blue, scarf indigo striped with orange, shirt black silk, woolly
shaps out of a Wild West show, gold and silver fixings, Cheyenne saddle,
carbine of some foreign breed, or maybe a Krag, manners fit for a king,
age thirty-four, height six feet two inches, chest only thirty-eight,
and such a sad smile--all of this will be useful to the police.
He tried all he knew to get out of being photographed, which I wisht I'd
been there, for it must have been plumb comic, but we all submits when
Kate gets after us. That reminds me that if he can't capture the camera
and plate, we're apt to be burnt out by accident.
She led him on and made him talk. If his boss knew how much Kate has
down in her note-book, this guy with the sad eyes would get kicked all
round the pasture. When I axed if the robber made love to her, my wife
just laughed, and turned away, telling me not to be a fool; but the
blush came round her neck.
I dunno. Perhaps it's my liver, so I'm taking the only medicine I have,
which it tastes like liniment. Is it liver, or am I getting to dislike
this person?
II
So happens, while I was writing, Billy O'Flynn comes along with the pack
outfit on his way to Sky-line. He wanted to know why I made them fires,
so I explained I was making a clearing up thar for Kate's spring
chrysanthemums. (She spelt that word, which had me bogged down to the
hocks.) It may be liver, or my squeam inflamed, but my mind ain't easy,
and the Sky-line folk may think I'm only joshing with them fires.
I can't leave Kate to ride for help, I can't shift her, I can't send
Billy to the constable without breaking my contract with the Sky-line,
and I don't divulge nothin' to William O'Flynn, Esquire, who talks to
the moon rather than waste conversation.
If I make a letter for Dale, and slip it into the pouch, Billy won't
know, or gossip if he happens to meet in with stray robbers. I'll get
him up and off by midnight to the Sky-line, in time for the supper pies,
and the boys will be surging down to the ferry before to-morrow
midnight. Now I must make up some lies to hasten Billy's timid footsteps
along the path of duty.
III
Billy hastened away at midnight to tell Dale that pigeon's milk is
selling at eighty-four and three-fourths. He believes that if he can get
that secret intelligence to Iron in good time, he's to share the
profits. Fact is, that Iron's late wife made him the laughing-stock of
the plains over some joke she put up on him connected with pigeon's
milk, so that Billy's share of the profits will be delivered on the toe
of Dale's boot. He's breaking records to make the Sky-line quick.
Nothing happened this morning, except Bull Durham, calling himself
Brooke. He, the gent with the sad eyes, who came to make love to my
wife. He paid me one hundred dollars for pasturage. Then I axed him to
stay dinner, and Kate says she never seen me so talkative. Bull found
out which weeks the Cariboo stage carries specie, and how many thousand
dollars a month in amalgam comes down from the Sky-line camp. He even
dragged out of me that old Surly Brown, the miser, has fifteen thousand
dollars buried under the dirt floor of his cabin--which reminds me that
if Brown's home becomes the scene of a mining stampede, I'll have to
keep shy of his rifle. I owned up that our provincial constable is in
bed with the mumps at Alexandria--temperature of a hundred and six in
the shade. I sort of hinted that he was prejudiced agin me for belonging
to the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and because I was
suspected of adopting poor, dumb, driven cattle which had happened to
stray within range of my branding-iron. He even learned I'd rode for the
Lightning outfit, and from this jumps on to the conclusion I must have
belonged once to the Tonto gang of outlaws. This might account for me
being hid up here in the British possessions. Our mutual acquaintance,
even at Abilene, was all candidates for the gallows, or such of the
dear departed as had been invited to the hereafter by Judge Lynch. Yes,
he showed a great gift of faith, and got both his photo and the negative
to show there was no ill feeling. I'm pastoral, harmless, simple, raised
for a pet.
Leaving Kate hid in a ruined shack, half-way to the ferry, I was down by
eleven P.M. to the bank of the river, hailing old man Brown. So soon as
he'd brung me acrost, I sent him to ride for all he was worth and
collect our constable, which cost me eighteen dollars and a horse. The
money is severe, but I'll get even on horse trades.
From midnight to one A.M. I put in the time cussing Dale; from then till
two A.M. I felt that nobody loved me; from two A.M. to half past, I was
scheming to take the robbers single-handed. At two thirty-five Dale
rolled up with nine men from Sky-line, mounted on Billy's ponies,
besides O'Flynn, and Ransome Pollock, who may be good for a burnt
offering but ain't much use alive.
Of course, having raised the country, I'd got to make good, producing a
business proposition and robbers to follow. Iron has no sense of humor
anyhow, and can't see jokes unless the prices is wrote plain on their
tickets. He's come to this earth after dollars. If a batch of robbers
is liable to cost him fifty dollars a day, and only fetches fifty-one
dollars a day on the contract, his mine is better money, so he rolls his
tail and takes away his men. That's Iron Dale seven days in the week.
He's right smart, too, at holding a business meeting, so when I'd ate
cranberry pie, which is a sort of compliment from the mine, and the boys
has some of Brown's tea as a donation from me, the convention sits down
solemn to talk robbers.
Moved and seconded that hold-ups ain't encouraged in her majesty's
dominions, and we hands these robbers to the constable as his lawful
meat, but we got to get 'em first.
Resolved that there's money in it. The owners of them cattle had ought
to be grateful and show their gratitude, 'cause otherwise the stock is
apt to scatter. Proposed that we hit the trail right away, with Iron
Dale for leader. Carried, with symptoms of toothache disabling one of
his men.
Dale told off O'Flynn and Branscombe to stampede the cattle just at
glint of dawn, sending 'em past the cave, and shooting and yelling as if
there was no hereafter. That should interest the robbers, and bring them
out of the cave which overlooks our pasture. Looking down at a sharp
angle, they weren't likely to hit our riders, whereas our posse, posted
in good cover with a steady aim, could attend to the robbers with
promptness and despatch.
Crossing the ferry our main outfit left Billy and Branscombe to start
drifting the cattle southward, while we rode on to take up our positions
around the cave. With dawn coming on, and Kate alone in that shack, I
wanted the boys to gallop, whereas Dale said he'd no use for broken
legs. The night was dark as a wolf's mouth.
In the ruined shack, half-way to our home, Kate was to have a candle,
screened so that it could only be seen from our trail. As soon as we
rose the edge of the bench, and a mile before we would reach the shack,
I seen the candle and knew that she was safe. We passed my fence, we
crossed the half-mile creek, we gathered speed along the open pasture,
and then Kate's yell went through me like a knife. The robbers must have
had a man on night herd, and found her by that light!
Dale's hand grabbed my rein, and with a growl he halted our whole
outfit. "Steady," says he, "you fool!" Then in a whisper, as his men
came crowding in: "Dismount! Ransome, hold horses! Sam, take three men
afoot round the rear of that cabin. I take the rest to close in the
front. Siwash, and Nitchie Scott, find enemy's horses and drift them
away out of reach. No man to whisper, no man to make a sound, until I
lift my hand at that cabin window. After that, kill any man who tries to
escape. Get a move on!"
So, with me at his tail, he crept along from cover to cover, waving hand
signals to throw his squad into place. The enemy's five horses at the
door were led off by Billy's Siwash _arriero_, and Nitchie Scott, so
gently that the robbers thought they were grazing. By that time Dale and
me was at the window gap on the north side of the shack, but the candle
was in our way, we couldn't see through its glow, and it wasn't till we
got round to the door hole that we'd a view of what was going on inside.
My wife stood in the nor'west, right, far corner. A man with a gray chin
whisker and a mournful smile, with his gun muzzle in her right ear, was
shoving her head against the wall. Bull was talking as usual, explaining
how his tact was better'n Whiskers' gun at persuading females. Ginger
was trying to assuage Bull. The greaser was keeping a kind of lookout,
although he couldn't see from the lighted room into the dark where we
was. Ginger clapped his paws over Bull's mouth before the proceedings
went on.
"Now," says Whiskers sadly, "are you goin' to scream any more?"
Kate's face was dead white with rage. "You cur," said she, "I screamed
because my--you're hurting me, you brute! Leave off if you want to hear
one word from me. Leave off! That's better. No, I won't scream again."
The gun sight was tearing her ear as she screwed her head around,
looking him full in the eyes. "If you do me any harm," she said, "my
husband's friends won't let you off with death. They'll burn you. Stand
back, you coward!"
He flinched back just a little, and I saw his hand drawing slowly clear
of her head.
"Get your horses," she cried out sharp, "you've barely time to escape!"
Then I fired, the bullet throwing that hand back, so that it contracted
on the gun. His revolver shot went through the rear wall. The hand was
spoiled.
"Now, hands up, all of you!" Dale yelled. "Hands up! Drop your guns!"
One of the robbers was raising his gun to fire, so I had to kill him.
The rest surrendered.
"Kate," said I, sort of quiet, and she came to me.