LETTER, RING, AND LOCKET.
The sides of the mountain-wagon were splintered in several places,
and the only one of the wagon’s four passengers who did not show any
visible signs of wear and tear was the mild-faced stranger who sat in
front with Chick Billings.
Billings had bound a handkerchief around his head, over the bruise
made by the butt of Lawless’ revolver, and Hotchkiss wore a bandage
around his arm, while Pete was similarly decorated at the shoulder.
Buffalo Bill and Gentleman Jim appeared to be the only two who had
glimpsed the stage. Spangler dozed in front of the hotel, and Wild
Bill and Nomad shuffled, and dealt and played, oblivious of the fact
that the stage was coming, and that it had met with any trouble.
“Buffler Bill, by hokey!” cried Chick Billings.
“Ye’re the feller we’re lookin’ fer!” chimed in Lonesome Pete.
“You bet y’u!” added Hotchkiss.
The moment Billings drew to a halt, De Bray tumbled over the wheel
and grabbed the scout’s welcoming hand.
“Hello, Cody!” cried the Denver man. “You’re looking husky as ever.”
“Feeling that way,” answered the scout, with a smile. “You appear to
stack up pretty well, De Bray.”
“Then I stack up a whole lot better than I feel. I’ve got a lump on
the back of my head as big as your fist, and a hole in my pocket as
big as a tunnel.”
“A hole in your pocket?”
“It was big enough for twenty thousand to slip through.”
“Why--why, I thought ye didn’t know Buffler Bill?” gasped Lonesome
Pete.
“He was sayin’,” added Hotchkiss, “that he wanted Buffler Bill ter
take his little hand an’ show him the sights. Woof! Darned if he
ain’t deceived us all around.”
“What happened to you fellows, anyhow?” asked the scout. “It’s a
clear case that something went wrong. Did the stage slip over the rim
of the cañon?”
“Worse’n thet,” said Chick Billings. “We met Lawless an’ his gang
twicet.”
“Fust time wasn’t so bad,” added Pete, one hand wandering to his
injured shoulder; “but the second time--wow! Say, thar was fireworks,
ground-an’-lofty tumblin’, an’ a hull lot o’ other trimmin’s.”
“Do you mean to say you’ve been through a hold-up?” demanded Buffalo
Bill, his brow clouding, “and that Lawless was back of it?”
“He wasn’t back o’ it, Buffler Bill,” said Pete, “not as any one
could notice. He was right up front, mighty conspickerous.”
“Did he appear to be injured in any way?”
“Injured? Him? Waal, not so’s ter interfere with his moving about. He
was mighty soople; an’ the way he got around was a caution. I know
what ye’re thinkin’, Buffler Bill. Ye’re thinkin’ how Hank Blake,
from Pass Dure Cañon, allowed he’d notched Lawless, mebby fer keeps.
But the whelp didn’t show any signs. He seemed as well as ever, an’
about twicet as active.”
“This is a pretty layout,” muttered Buffalo Bill. “How many men were
with Lawless?”
“Seven; but thar ain’t so many, by one,” came from Hotchkiss. “Pete
dropped one of ’em, an’ I put another on the retired list.”
“An’ he sent word ter you, Buffler,” spoke up Pete; “Lawless did. He
said ye was ter be told he’d made er clean-up, an’ thet he was achin’
ter hev you trail arter him an’ his gang an’ try ter make a clean-up
o’ yer own.”
“Then he’ll get what he wants,” said the scout grimly.
“Ain’t got so many passengers as we left Montegordo with by two,”
mourned Billings.
“How’s that?” the scout asked quickly. “I was expecting Cayuse back
on this stage, and----”
“Waal, he left ’Gordo with the stage, all right, an’ he was roostin’
on ther back seat with the mail an’ ther luggage up to jest afore
we hit Lawless fer the fust time. About then ther leetle Piute
disappeared.”
“Did Lawless or his men see him, do you know?”
“I reckon not; Cayuse was gone when ther gang come down on us.”
The scout’s face cleared.
“The boy’s all right,” said he; “he scented trouble, and ten to one
he’s trailing the gang. We’ll hear from him. But you spoke of two
passengers. Who was the other?”
“T’other was a woman----”
“A woman!” exclaimed both the scout and Gentleman Jim, becoming
mightily interested.
“Exactly,” said Billings.
“Did the woman disappear with Little Cayuse?” asked the scout.
“Nary, she didn’t. I wisht it had been thet away, but it wasn’t.
Lawless had her kerried off, second time he come down on us.”
“The scoundrel!” muttered the scout between his teeth, his eyes
flashing. “What was the woman’s name?”
“She didn’t say what her name was.”
“Why was she coming to Sun Dance?”
“Lookin’ fer a man, I think, jedgin’ from somethin’ she said; an’ I
reckon, also, jedgin’ from somethin’ else she said, thet she wasn’t
more’n half-expectin’ ter find the man.”
“Well,” said the scout briskly, “tell us the whole of this, and tell
it quick. You, Hotchkiss. Time is scarce, and we want the important
points.”
Hotchkiss jumped into the recital, and carried it through quickly.
What made the greatest impression on the scout and the gambler was
that part of the story which had to do with the ring and the locket.
“I’ll take them, and the letter,” said Gentleman Jim, stretching out
his hand.
Billings handed him the locket. At the mere sight of it Gentleman
Jim’s face went pallid. Opening it quickly, he stared with glassy
eyes at two pictures the locket revealed, a low groan dropped from
his lips, and he staggered back.
“What is it, Jim?” asked the scout, stepping toward the gambler.
Gentleman Jim did not reply. Apparently beside himself, he did not
wait for the note and the ring, but turned about unsteadily and
reeled into the Alcazar.
Those in the buckboard, and around it, stared after him.
“I never seen Gentleman Jim in sich a takin’ as thet afore,” mumbled
Chick Billings.
“What ails him, anyways?” asked Pete.
“Mebby the woman was some kin o’ his,” suggested Hotchkiss.
“Possibly,” answered the scout shortly. “Give me the ring and the
note; and I’ll take them to him in a few moments.”
Billings tendered the remaining two articles to the scout, and he
dropped them into his pocket.
“Drive on to the post-office and the hotel, Billings,” went on the
scout. “Wild Bill and Nomad are at the hotel--tell them just what you
have told me, and say that I want them to get our horses ready for
the trail. It’s the war-path for us, and _muy pronto_. First, though,
I must have a talk with Gentleman Jim. This note may contain clues of
some value. De Bray,” he added, to the Denver man, “you’re playing in
hard luck----”
“That wasn’t all of my pile, though,” cut in De Bray; “remember, I’m
still in on the deal as soon as I can get more dinero from home.”
“We’ll talk of that later. Go on to the hotel and introduce yourself
to my pards there. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
The stage trundled on. De Bray walking beside it, and the scout
hurried into the Alcazar, through the big, deserted gambling-hall to
the door of Gentleman Jim’s private room.
The door was open. Through it he could see the gambler, seated at
his desk. His head was bowed in his arms, and the locket lay open in
front of him.
It was hardly a time to intrude on a man, unnerved by grief as the
gambler was at that moment, but other matters connected with Lawless
were pressing.
The scout entered the room and passed to the gambler’s side.
“Jim!”
The gambler locked up with a start.
“I’m glad you came, Cody,” said he, in a hoarse voice. “See, here.”
He picked up the locket. It contained two pictures, one of a
fair-faced woman and the other plainly that of Gentleman Jim himself.
“This--this,” faltered the gambler, “belonged to Alice! It was she
whom those scoundrels stole away--and to play even with me on account
of that mine!”
“We’ll talk of that later, Jim,” said the scout, laying the ring
on the table and dropping the note beside it. “There are the other
two things Billings brought. Let’s read the note. It may contain
something of importance.”
Although the note was the main thing in Buffalo Bill’s mind, and
the contents of it what he wanted to get at as quickly as possible,
yet he could not show impatience when Gentleman Jim picked up the
wedding-ring first.
“This was Alice’s,” said he, in a low voice. “I gave it to her--it
seems as though that was in another life and in another world.
Look!”--and he held up the gold band and indicated some tiny
lettering on the inside--“there’s my name and hers--‘James to Alice,’
and the date. Sad memories, Buffalo Bill,” said he, with a long sigh,
dropping the ring beside the locket.
“She must have been coming here to you,” said the scout.
“Yes--coming to me!” Gentleman Jim’s eyes flashed murderously. “And
now to have Lawless strike such a blow at my happiness, to---- But
I’ll find her! By Heaven, I’ll follow that scoundrel to the ends of
earth, if necessary, and get Alice away from him. Then I’ll make him
pay--pay to the uttermost.”
“That’s the way to talk, Gentleman Jim,” approved the scout. “I
intend to take the trail just as soon as we can get our plans into
working shape. The note may guide us. Read it.”
Gentleman Jim picked up the note and read it aloud.
“‘GENTLEMAN JIM, Sun Dance.
“‘You have probably heard, by now, how I held up the stage. I took
from your wife what money she had, and all her jewelry--which
didn’t amount to much. Of course, until I saw your picture in
the locket, I hadn’t any idea the woman was your wife. Having
discovered this, my scheme is laid to take her away from the stage
and hold her until a deed, properly executed to me by Wah-coo-tah
Lawless, for the Forty Thieves Mine, is left on the black boulder
at Medicine Bluff. The girl, under care of Buffalo Bill’s girl
pard, I understand is getting well, there in Sun Dance. You can
have the deed executed at once, and leave it for me at midnight,
to-night, at the place stated. On the day following, your wife will
be given a horse and sent into camp. If you do not leave the deed,
as stated, you will never see your wife again. This is the last
call.
“‘CAPTAIN LAWLESS.’”
“The inhuman brute!” broke from the scout’s lips.
“You understand the situation, Buffalo Bill?” asked the gambler. “I
am so overcome by what has happened that I am hardly able to think or
plan. But your head is clear. Put yourself in my place, then do for
me as you would do for yourself.”
“In the first place,” said the scout, after a few moments’ thought,
“Lawless is not a man to be trusted, anyway we plan.”
“I know that,” breathed Gentleman Jim.
“Even if you allowed him to intimidate you, and even if Wah-coo-tah
would give a deed, if the document was taken to Medicine Bluff
to-night, you have no assurance that you could trust Lawless to send
your wife here to-morrow.”
“I understand.”
“It seems to me, then,” pursued the scout, “that the one thing to do
is to take Lawless’ trail at the earliest possible moment.”
“Where shall we pick it up?”
“At the place where the trail curves around the arm of the gulch.”
“But how shall we follow the trail when we once find it? Lawless is
cunning. He will blind his course.”
“Little Cayuse will help us.”
“Ah! I had forgotten Little Cayuse. You think the boy is on the track
of the gang?”
“I am as sure of that as I am that I stand here this minute. It is
just like Cayuse. He scented trouble before the first hold-up, and he
got out of the stage before the thieves saw him. It’s a safe bet that
he’s on the track of Lawless right now.”
“I believe you are right,” mused the gambler. “Cayuse is our one
hope. If he cannot help us find Lawless, no one and nothing else can.
The scoundrel has laid other plans to get even with you, Buffalo
Bill, and he will be wary in carrying them out. He will profit
by past experience, and will make sure he has you safe before he
strikes.”
“He is not counting on Little Cayuse,” said the scout grimly, “and we
are. The boy has never yet failed me.”
“Lawless is eager for you to follow him,” pursued the gambler; “that
was the word he sent by Billings.”
“That was only bluster,” said the scout lightly. “Lawless’ weak point
is bluster. He lays clever plans, but he usually overreaches himself.
Offering to give me the Forty Thieves Mine if I would stay in it for
three days and nights is only a sample of his harebrained schemes.”
“What a cur the scoundrel must be,” growled Gentleman Jim, “to take
such trinkets from a woman!”
“He was no more of a cur then than he was when he shot his own
daughter,” said the scout.
“I suppose not, but what has happened to-day hits me nearer home. If
I can get Alice back----”
“You can,” said the scout, with quiet confidence.
“Well, when I do, I shall change my whole course of life. I shall
never touch another card as long as I live. Alice and I will go back
East, and I will return to my old profession and make another name
for myself. I am only forty-five----”
“Just in your prime, Gentleman Jim!” interposed the scout heartily.
“Not too old to carve out another place for myself, do you think?”
“Certainly not!” and the scout reached over and caught his friend’s
hand in a hearty grip. “You have too good stuff in you to waste your
talents on cards and the green table.”
“Well, let us think for a little.” The gambler settled back in his
chair. “The first hold-up gave Lawless the ring and the locket. He
saw my picture in the locket, and my first name in the ring. From
that it was easy for him to figure out that Alice was my wife, and
that she was going to me at Sun Dance. By cutting across the arm
of the gulch, he and his men could overtake the stage. On the way,
Lawless wrote that note. When he came up with the stage, he found
those aboard wrangling over what they were going to do to your
friend, De Bray.”
“They had got over wrangling, I reckon,” said the scout. “De Bray had
shown them twenty one-thousand-dollar bills, and had explained his
actions. De Bray’s intentions were all right, and he would have won
out, and nothing would have happened, if Billings hadn’t insisted on
stopping the stage. As it is, Mrs. Brisco is missing, and so is De
Bray’s twenty thousand, along with a little more money belonging to
Pete and Hotchkiss. This ‘clean-up’ of mine, as Lawless has referred
to it, is going to be comprehensive.” The scout’s eyes flashed
resolutely. “We are not only going to rescue Mrs. Brisco, but we are
also going to get back De Bray’s money, and wind up the career of
Lawless into the bargain.”
Gentleman Jim, suddenly alert and feverishly eager, bounded to his
feet.
“When do we start?” he asked.
“As soon as we can get ready. I believe my old pard must be getting
the horses under saddle now.”
“I’ll be ready by the time you are,” said the gambler.
Opening the secret drawer, he started to put the locket and the ring
into it; then, changing his mind, he put only the ring into the
drawer, and placed the locket in an inside pocket of his coat.
“Great events,” said Buffalo Bill, “sometimes hang upon trifling
incidents.”
He had reference to Lawless’ getting the locket, looking at the
pictures inside, and suddenly making up his mind to overhaul the
stage and spirit away the gambler’s wife.
At the same time, the placing of the locket in his breast pocket by
Gentleman Jim, though a trifling incident, was destined to have a
vital bearing on the trend of the gambler’s affairs.
Leaving Gentleman Jim to make his preparations, the scout hurried out
of the Alcazar and off down the street toward the Lucky Strike Hotel.
Spangler was wabbling excitedly about in front of his hostelry,
spluttering his ideas and opinions regarding the double hold-up to
Dell Dauntless. At sight of the scout, the girl ran toward him, her
eyes sparkling.
“At last, pard,” she cried, “your chance has come to bring things to
a finish in this matter of Captain Lawless.”
“Right you are, Dell,” he answered: “and the chance has come somewhat
before I had expected it.”
“Of course I’m going with you,” said Dell.
“Who will stay with Wah-coo-tah?”
“She says she can take care of herself now, and wants me to go.”
“You understand don’t you, Dell, that Lawless expects us to follow
him, and that he has probably prepared another of his ingenious traps
for us?”
“I understand; but this trap, whatever it is, will fail, just as that
other one did at the mine.”
“Of course! But I think I would rather you stayed here. We have men
enough, you know.”
“This is the last time I shall ever ride with you, pard,” said
Dell. “I am going back to Arizona, you know, as soon as Lawless is
captured. You’re going to let me go, aren’t you? For the last time?”
Dell’s intention of returning to Arizona had been talked over among
the pards for several days. Dell’s ranch, the “Double D,” was needing
her, and she and the rest of the pards were near the time when their
trails forked. Under those conditions, the scout could not deny the
girl her wish.
“All right, Dell,” said Buffalo Bill, “but I hope this ride will not
be the last we have together.”
“I thought it would be all right,” said Dell, “so I asked Nomad and
Wild Bill to bring up Silver Heels with the rest of the horses.”
Dell ran into the hotel to make ready, and just as the scout was
turning away he saw a fog of dust down the street. Two riders soon
broke out of the fog, and had evidently ridden into camp from the
upper rim of the cañon.
One of the riders was Hank Tenny, and the other was a Cheyenne Indian.
Both horsemen drew to a halt in front of Buffalo Bill.
“What’s to pay, Hank?” queried Buffalo Bill, staring at Tenny’s face
keenly. “Got something up your sleeve?”
“Not me, Buffler,” replied Tenny, “but the red has.” He turned to the
Cheyenne. “Out with it, Hawk,” said he. “Here’s the scout, the feller
ye was wantin’ ter find.”
The Indian leaned forward from the back of his horse, jerked a strip
of birch-bark from his girdle, and thrust it into the scout’s hand.
“Little Cayuse send um,” said he. “Me heap good Cheyenne, all same
friend Little Cayuse, Buff’ Bill. Me bring um.”