The street was crowded with excited men and women as Kelley came back up
the walk. One or two congratulated him on his escape from sudden death,
but the majority resented him as "the hired bouncer" of the land-boomers
in the town.
"Who pushed that screen?" was the question which everybody asked of
Kelley.
"I didn't see," he responded. "I was _busy_ just about that time."
In truth he had only glimpsed a darting figure, but one he knew! Who
else but Rosa Lemont could have been so opportune and so effective in
her action? She alone knew of his presence in the alley.
She was only a plain little hobbledehoy, half Mexican and half French,
and not yet out of short dresses, and Kelley had never paid her any
attention beyond passing the time of day, with a kindly smile; and yet
with the fervid imagination of her race she had already conceived a
passionate admiration for Kelley. Knowing that he was entering Mink's
death-trap, she had followed him like a faithful squire, eager to
defend, and, understanding his danger to the full, had taken the
simplest and most effective means of aiding him. From the doorway she
had witnessed his victory; then flying through the rear door, had been
in position at the store window as he passed with his prisoner on his
way to the calaboose.
When Kelley came back to her door, with intent to thank her for what she
had done, he found the room full of excited men, and with instinctive
delicacy passed on his way, not wishing to involve her in the story of
the arrest.
It appeared that all the men of the town who thrived by lawlessness and
vice now decided to take up Mink's case and make his discharge an issue.
A sudden demonstration of their political power brought the judge to
terms. He weakened. The gambler was released with a fine of one hundred
dollars and a warning to keep the peace, and by noon of the following
day was back in his den, more truculent than ever.
Kelley was properly indignant. "But the man tried to kill me!" he
protested to the court.
"He swears not," replied the justice. "We have punished him for
resisting an officer. That is the best we can do."
"What about Jake?"
"Oh, well! That was 'war.' Jake had a gun, and Mink is able to prove
that he shot in self-defense. Furthermore, he has settled with Jake."
Kelley argued no more. He could have called Rosa in as a witness to the
attempt upon his life, but to do so would expose her to public comment,
and her big, solemn, worshipful eyes had already produced in him a vague
pity. Without understanding fully her feeling, he knew that she looked
up to him, and he perceived that she was born to sorrow in larger
measure than she deserved. Sallow, thin, boyish, she gave promise of a
kind of beauty which would sometime make her desired of both white men
and brown.
"Poor little mongrel!" he said to himself. "She's in for misery enough
without worrying over me."
* * * * *
"Well, I'm up against it now," Kelley remarked to Dad Miller, Hornaby's
foreman, the next time he met him. "Mink's friends have thrown a scare
into the judge and he has turned that coyote loose against me. Looks
like I had one of two things to do--kill the cuss or jump the town."
"Shoot him on sight," advised Miller.
"If I do that I'm 'in bad' with the court," Kelley argued. "You see,
when I took him before, I had the law on my side. Now it's just man to
man--until he commits another crime. Killing me wouldn't be a crime."
"That's so," mused his friend. "You're cinched any way you look at it."
Kelley went on: "Moreover, some of my greaser friends have started a
line of fool talk about making me sheriff, and that has just naturally
set the whole _political_ ring against me. They'd just as soon I got
killed as not--a little sooner. I've a right to resign, haven't I?
Nobody has a license to call me a coward after what I've done, have
they?"
"No license; but I reckon they will, all the same," responded his
friend.
Kelley's face hardened. "Well, I'll disappoint 'em. I'm going to stay
with it." However, he went to the mayor and voiced his resentment of the
court's action.
His Honor pretended to be greatly concerned. "Now, don't quit on us, Ed.
Hornaby expects you to stay put. You're the only man who can clean up
the town. You've done great work already, and we appreciate it. In fact,
we're going to raise your pay."
"Pay to a corpse don't count," retorted Kelley. "It's a question of
backing. You fellows have got to stand behind me."
"We'll do it, Ed. Only, Hornaby thinks you'd better put a card in the
paper saying that you have no intention of going into politics."
"Oh, hell!" said Kelley, disgustedly. "Is Hornaby suspicious of me, too?
Well, for that I've a mind to run," and he went out in deep disgust.
As the days went by and no open movement against him took place, his
vigilance somewhat relaxed. Mink kept to his lair like some treacherous,
bloodthirsty animal, which was a bad sign.
At heart Tall Ed was restless and discontented. Each day he walked the
streets of the fly-bit town; dreaming of the glorious desert spaces he
had crossed and of the high trails he had explored. He became more and
more homesick for the hills. Far away to the north gleamed the snowy
crest of the Continental Divide, and the desire to ride on, over that
majestic barrier into valleys whose purple shadows allured him like
banners, grew stronger. Each night he lifted his face to the stars and
thought of his glorious moonlit camps on the Rio Perco sands, and the
sound of waterfalls was in his dreams.
"What am I here for?" he asked himself. "Why should I be watch-dog--me,
a wolf, a free ranger! Why should I be upholding the law? What's the law
to a tramp?"
Had it not been for a curious sense of loyalty to Hornaby, added to a
natural dislike of being called a quitter, he would have surrendered
his star and resumed his saddle. He owned a good horse once more and had
earned nearly two hundred dollars. "With my present outfit I can amble
clear across to Oregon," he assured himself, wistfully.
As he stood with uplifted face, dreaming of the mountains, Rosa Lemont
came down the street, and as she passed him said in a low voice: "Mink's
on the plaza--crazy drunk. Watch out!"
Kelley straightened and cast an unhurried glance around him. No one was
in sight but a group of cow-punchers tying their horses in front of a
saloon, and a few miners seated on the edge of the walk. Nevertheless,
he knew the girl had good reason for her warning, and so, after walking
a block or two in the opposite direction, he turned and came slowly back
up the main street till he reached Lemont's doorway, where he paused,
apparently interested in something across the street.
Rosa came from within and with equally well-simulated carelessness
leaned against the door-frame. "Mink's bug-house," she explained, "and
got a Winchester. He's just around the corner, waiting for you. He says
he's going to shoot you on sight." She stammered a little with
excitement, but her voice was low.
"Much obliged, Rosie," he replied, feelingly. "Don't worry. I may see
him first. And listen; while I have a chance I want to thank you for
pushing that screen onto him. It was a good job."
"That's all right," she answered, hastily. "But please be careful."
"Don't worry," he gravely replied. "I've beat him once and I can do it
again." And after a pause he added: "I reckon you're the only one that
cares what happens to me--but don't mix in this game, little one. Don't
do it."
A crowd had gathered in the street, with attention concentrated as if
for a dog-fight, and Kelley, pushing his way through the circle,
suddenly confronted Mink, who, as the object of interest, was busied in
rolling a cigarette, while his Winchester leaned against a post. To this
fact Kelley probably owed his life, for in the instant between the
gambler's recognition and the snatching up of his rifle Kelley was able
to catch and depress the muzzle of the gun before it was discharged. The
bullet passed low, entering the wooden sidewalk close to his foot. "I'll
take that gun," he said, and would have immediately overpowered his
adversary had not several of the by-standers furiously closed in upon
him. Single-handed he was forced to defend himself against these, his
fellow-citizens, as well as against Mink, who struggled like a wildcat
for the possession of his gun. One man seized the marshal from behind,
pinioning his arms. Another hung upon his neck. A third dogged at his
knees, a fourth disarmed him.
Battered, bruised, covered with blood and dirt, the marshal fought like
a panther weighed down with hounds. Twice he went to earth smothered,
blinded, gasping, but rose again almost miraculously, still unconquered,
until at last, through the sudden weakening of the men on his right arm
he gained possession of the rifle, and with one furious sweep brought it
down on the gambler's head. Another circling stroke and his assailants
fell away. With blazing eyes he called out: "_Get back there now! Every
man of you!_"
Breathing hard, he looked them over one by one. "You're a pretty bunch
of citizens," he said, with cutting contempt. "You ought to be
shot--every man jack of you!" Then glancing down at the wounded gambler
at his feet, he added: "Some of you better take this whelp to a doctor.
He needs help."
Lemont and another of Mink's friends took up the unconscious man and
carried him into the drug-store, and Kelley followed, with a feeling
that all the town was against him, and that he must re-arm himself for a
night of warfare. His revolver was gone, and to replace it and to gain a
breathing-space he retreated to his room, his endurance all but
exhausted.
He had no regret for what he had done. On the contrary, he took a savage
satisfaction in having at last ended Mink, but as he hurriedly buckled
on his cartridge-belt, he foresaw the danger ahead of him in Mink's
friends, who, he knew, would get him if they could.
The patter of feet in the hall and a knock at the door startled him.
"Who's there?" he demanded, catching up his rifle.
"It's Rosa," called a girlish voice. "Let me in."
"Are you alone?"
"Yes. Open! Quick!"
He opened the door, gun in hand. "What is it, Rosie?" he gently asked.
"They're coming!" she answered, breathlessly.
"Who're coming?"
"That saloon crowd. They're almost here!"
Other footsteps sounded on the stairs. "Run away, girl," said Kelley,
softly. "There's going to be trouble--"
Rosie pushed him back into the room. "No, no! Let me stay! Let me help
you fight!" she pleaded.
While still he hesitated, Mrs. Mink, a short, squat woman with eyes
aflame with hate, rushed through the doorway and thrust a rifle against
Kelley's breast. Quick as a boxer Rosa pushed the weapon from the
woman's hands and with desperate energy shoved her backward through the
door and closed it.
"Run--run!" she called to the marshal.
But Kelley did not move, and something in his face turned the girl's
face white. He was standing like a man hypnotized, every muscle rigid.
With fallen jaw and staring eyes he looked at the weapon in his hand. At
last he spoke huskily:
"Girl, you've saved my soul from hell. You surely have!" He shivered as
if with cold, rubbing his hands stiffly. "Yes," he muttered, "a second
more and I'd 'a' killed her--killed a woman!"
The sound of a fierce altercation came up the hall. Cautious footsteps
were heard approaching, and at last a voice called out, "Hello, Kelley!
You there?"
"I am. What's wanted of me?"
"It's the mayor. Let me speak with you a minute."
Kelley considered for a breath or two; his brain was sluggish. "Open the
door, Rosie," he finally said and backed against the wall.
The girl obeyed, and the mayor entered, but his hands were open and
raised. "Don't shoot, Ed. We're friends." He was followed by the judge
and a couple of aldermen.
"It's all right, Ed," said the judge. "Mink's coming to life. Put up
your gun. We don't blame you. He had no call to attack an officer like
that--"
At the word "officer" Kelley let his rifle slip with a slam to the floor
and began to fumble at the badge on his coat. "That reminds me, your
Honor," he said, at last. "Here's a little piece of tin that belongs to
you--or the city."
He tossed the loosened badge to the mayor, who caught it deftly,
protesting: "Oh, don't quit, Ed. You've just about won the fight. Stay
with it."
A wry smile wrinkled one side of the trailer's set face. "I'm no fool,
your Honor. I know when I've got enough. I don't mind being shot in the
back and mobbed and wallered in the dirt--that's all in the day's work;
but when it comes to having women pop in on me with Winchesters I must
be excused. I'm leaving for the range. I'll enjoy being neighbor to the
conies for a while. This civilized life is a little too busy for me."
Rosa, who had been listening, understood his mood much better than the
men, and with her small hands upon his arm she pleaded: "Take me with
you! I hate these people--I want to go with you."
He turned a tender, pitying, almost paternal glance upon her. "No, girl,
no. I can't do that. You're too young. It wouldn't be right to snarl a
grown woman's life up with mine--much less a child like you." Then, as
if to soften the effect of his irrevocable decision, he added: "Perhaps
some time we'll meet again. But it's good-by now." He put his arm about
her and drew her to his side and patted her shoulder as if she were a
lad. Then he turned. "Lend me a dollar, Judge! I'm anxious to ride."
The judge looked troubled. "We're sorry, Ed--but if you feel that way,
why--"
"That's the way I feel," answered the trailer, and his tone was
conclusive.
* * * * *
Dusk was falling when, mounted on his horse, with his "stake" in his
pocket, Kelley rode out of the stable into the street swarming with
excited men. The opposition had regained its courage. Yells of vengeance
rose: "Lynch him! Lynch the dog!" was the cry.
Reining his bronco into the middle of the road, with rifle across the
pommel of his saddle, Kelley advanced upon the crowd, in the shadowy
fringes of which he could see ropes swinging in the hands of Mink's
drunken partisans.
"Come on, you devils!" he called. "Throw a rope if you dare."
Awed by the sheer bravery of the challenge, the crowd slowly gave way
before him.
The block seemed a mile long to Kelley, but he rode it at a walk, his
horse finding his own way, until at last he reached the bridge which led
to the high-line Red Mountain road. Here he paused, faced about, and
sheathed his Winchester, then with a wave of his hand toward Rosa
Lemont, who had followed him thus far, he called out:
"Good-by, girl! You're the only thing worth saving in the whole dern
town. _Adios!_"
And, defeated for the first time in his life, Tall Ed turned his
cayuse's head to the San McGill range, with only the memory of a
worshipful child-woman's face to soften the effect of his hard
experience as the Marshal of Brimstone Basin.