THE DEATH-SHOT.
Frank was about to follow, when Big Monte clutched weakly at his foot.
"Pard," said the ruffian, "I may never git another chanct to say it.
You're the white stuff! They'd shore hanged me a whole lot but for you.
Now I has a chanct to die comfortable an' respectable like. Thankee,
Frank Merriwell."
"Don't mention it!" said Frank. "Die as comfortably as you can. I have
to go out to help the boys shoot a few of your pards."
"I ain't got northin' agin' them," said Monte; "but I wishes ye luck.
They're in the wrong, an' you're right."
At this moment the sound of shooting outside startled Merry, and,
without another word, he rushed forth, leaving Monte lying there.
Cimarron Bill had counted on capturing the mine by strategy and meeting
with very little resistance. When Frank had returned and ridden into the
valley Bill knew that it would not do to delay longer, and he had led
his men in swift pursuit.
But old Joe Crowfoot, faithful as ever, had prepared the miners for the
attack; so it came about that the ruffians were met with a volley of
lead that dismayed and demoralized them. This was not the kind of work
they relished.
Thus it happened that Frank Merriwell came hurrying forth, only to find
the enemy already repulsed and retreating in disorder.
The starlight showed two men and a horse stretched on the ground, while
another horse was hobbling about. At a distance down the valley the
mine-seizers were fleeing.
"They git heap hot time!" said old Joe, in Frank's ear.
"What?" cried Merry. "Have they quit it as quick as this?"
"It looks that way, sir," said Jim Tracy.
"And I didn't get into the game."
"You was too busy defending Big Monte. I hopes you pardons me, sir, but
I thinks that was a mistake."
"You have a right to think whatever you like, but I object to your
freedom in expressing yourself."
This was plain enough, and it told Tracy that Frank would not tolerate
any criticism from him.
"It's your own game," muttered Tracy, turning away.
"I see you have dropped two of those chaps."
"Yes."
Revolver in hand, Frank walked out toward the spot where the two figures
lay. He was followed by Crowfoot and several others.
The first man was stone-dead.
The next proved to be the Mexican, Pinto Pede, who was sorely wounded.
"That cursed greaser!" growled one of the men. "Give me lief to finish
him, Mr. Merriwell!"
He placed the muzzle of a pistol against Pede's head.
Frank knew that a word from him would send the Mexican into eternity.
"None of that!" he said sternly and commandingly. "Pick the fellow up
and take him in yonder. He may not be shot up too bad to recover."
But they drew back.
"Sir," said Tracy, "I don't opine thar is a man here but what thinks
hisself too good to be after handlin' the onery greaser."
"And you would let him remain here to die?"
"I reckons that's correct."
In another moment Merry had stooped and lifted the slender body of Pinto
Pede in his arms. With long strides, he bore the Mexican toward the
building in which Big Monte lay.
The miners looked on in amazement.
"Waal, he's the limit!" said Jim Tracy, in disgust.
Crowfoot followed Frank, who took Pede into the room and placed him
beside Big Monte. The redskin stopped at the door, where he stood on
guard.
"Well, Pede," said Frank, "we'll examine and see just how hard you're
hit."
The Mexican was shot in the side. At first it seemed that the wound
might be fatal, but, examining with the skill of an amateur surgeon,
Frank made a discovery.
"She struck a rib, Pede," he said. "She followed around and came out
here. Why, you're not in such a bad way! You may pull through this thing
all right. You'd be almost sure to if you had the right sort of
treatment."
The Mexican said nothing, but certain it is that he was bewildered when
he found Merry dressing the wound. This Frank did with such skill as he
possessed, making the fellow comfortable.
Big Monte had watched all this, and he spoke for the first time when the
job was done.
"I reckon," he said, "that they don't raise galoots like you ev'rywhere.
Why, it shore was up to you to finish the two o' us! Why you didn't do
it is something I don't understand none at all. An' you keeps them gents
from takin' me out an' swingin' me. You shore air plenty diffrunt from
any one I ever meets up with afore!"
Old Joe Crowfoot had been watching everything. The Indian understood
Frank not at all, but whatever "Strong Heart" did Joe was ready to stand
by.
"Don't worry over it," laughed Merry. "I owe you something, Monte."
"I fail to see what."
"Why, you warned me that Bill and the others meant to jump the mine
to-night."
"Did I?"
"Sure thing."
"I don't remember. But I tried ter shoot ye. Bill said you was ter be
shot ef you comes a-hustlin' back afore he gits around to doin' his part
o' the job."
"You got the worst of it in that little piece of shooting, so we'll call
that even."
"If you says even, I'm more'n willin'."
"Now," said Frank, "I'm going out with the men to watch for a second
attack from Bill. I have to leave you, and some of the boys may take a
fancy to hang you, after all. That bein' the case, I don't want to leave
you so you won't have a show. Here, take this gun. With it you may be
able to defend yourself until I can reach you. But don't shoot any one
if you can help it, for after that I don't believe even I could save
you."
So he placed a revolver in the hand of Big Monte and went out, leaving
the wounded ruffians together.
When Frank was gone the two wounded wretches lay quite still for some
time. Finally Pinto Pede stirred and looked at Big Monte.
"How you get shot?" he asked.
"The gent who jest went out done a part o' the job," said Monte, in
reply.
"Heem--he shoot you?"
"Yes."
"Ha! You lik' da chance to shoot heem?"
"Waal, I had it, but I missed him. He fooled me a whole lot, fer he jest
kept still behind his hoss, what I had salted, an' then he got in at me
with his own bit o' lead."
"That mak' you hate heem! Now you want to keel heem?"
"Oh, I don't know! I don't opine I'm so mighty eager."
"Beel says he gif one thousan' dol' to man who shoot Frank Mer'well."
"That's a good lot."
"Beel he do it."
"No doubt o' that, I reckons."
"Mebbe you an' I haf the chance."
"Waal, not fer me! I quits! When a chap keeps my neck from bein'
stretched arter all I has done ter him--waal, that settles it! I opines
I has a leetle humanity left in me. An' he thought I was dyin', too. I
kinder thought so then, but I'm managin' ter pull along. Mebbe I'll come
through."
The face of Pinto Pede showed that he was thinking black thoughts.
"Gif me da chance!" he finally said. "You no haf to do eet. Gif me da
chance. I do eet, an' we divvy da mon'. Ha?"
"Don't count me into your deviltry."
"No count you?"
"No."
"What matter? You no too good. I see you shoot man in back."
"Mebbe you did; but he hadn't kept me from bein' lynched."
"Bah! Why he do eet? You fool! He want to turn you ofer to law."
"Mebbe you're right; I don't know."
"You safe yourself if you help keel him."
"Looker hyer, Pede, I'm a low-down onery skunk; but I reckon thar's a
limit even fer me. I've struck it. This hyer Frank Merriwell made me
ashamed a' myself fer the fust time in a right long time. I know I'm too
onery to reform an' ever be anything decent, even if I don't shuffle off
with these two wounds. All the same, I ain't the snake ter turn an' soak
pisen inter Merriwell, an' you hear me. Others may do it, but not Big
Monte."
"Bah! All right! You not get half! Yes; you keep steel, you get eet."
"What are you driving at?"
"Wait. Mebbe you see. All you haf to do is keep steel."
"Waal, I'm great at keepin' still," said Monte.
It was not far from morning when Merriwell re-entered that room.
Pinto Pede seemed to be sleeping, but Big Monte was wide-awake.
"Hello!" exclaimed Frank. "So you're still on these shores. I didn't
know but you had sailed out."
"Pard, I opine mebbe I may git well enough to be hanged, after all,"
grinned the big ruffian.
"Possibly you may," said Frank. "And the chances are you would be if I
were to leave you alone long enough. I heard some of the boys talking.
They contemplate taking you out and doing things to you after I'm
asleep. But they did not reckon that I would come here to sleep, where
they cannot get their hands on you without disturbing me."
"That was right kind of you," said Monte. "How's Bill?"
"I think that Bill has had his fill for the present. Indications are
that he has left the valley with his whole force, and we are not looking
for further trouble from him in some time to come."
"Bill shore found hisself up against the real thing," said Monte.
Frank placed a blanket near the door, wrapped himself in it, and was
soon sleeping soundly.
Big Monte seemed to fall asleep after a time.
Finally the Mexican lifted his head and listened. He looked at Monte,
and then at Frank. Seeming to satisfy himself, he gently dropped aside
his blanket and began creeping across the floor, making his way toward
Merriwell. He moved with the silence of a serpent.
Now, it happened that Big Monte was not asleep, although he had seemed
to be. The Mexican had not crept half the distance to Frank when the big
man turned slightly, lifted his head, and watched. As the creeping
wretch drew nearer to the sleeping youth the hand of Big Monte was
gently thrust out from the folds of his blanket.
Pede reached Frank, and then arose to his knees. Suddenly he lifted
above his head a deadly knife, which he meant to plunge into the breast
of the unconscious sleeper.
At that instant a spout of fire leaped from something in the hand which
Big Monte had thrust from beneath the blanket, and with the crashing
report of the revolver Pede fell forward across the body of his intended
victim, shot through the brain!
Frank was on his feet in an instant.
"What does this mean?" he cried, astounded, stirring the body of the
Mexican with his foot.
"You gave me a gun," said Big Monte, "so that I might defend myself. It
came in handy when I saw Pede gittin' keerless with his knife an' goin'
fer to cut you up."
"Was that it?" exclaimed Frank. "Why, he was going to stab me! And you
saved my life by shooting him!"
"Which mebbe makes us some nearer square than we was," said Monte, "as
you saved my life a leetle time ago."