Events of no apparent moment have extensive issues now and then, and while
cattle-man and homesteader braced themselves for the conflict which they
felt would come, the truce might have lasted longer but for the fact that
one night Muller slept indifferently in the new house he had built. He was
never quite sure what made him restless, or prompted him to open and lean
out of his window; and, when he had done this, he saw and heard nothing
unusual for a while.
On one hand the birch bluff rose, a dusky wall, against the indigo of the
sky, and in front of him the prairie rolled away, silent and shadowy.
There was scarcely a sound but the low ripple of the creek, until,
somewhere far off in the distance, a coyote howled. The drawn-out wail had
in it something unearthly, and Muller, who was by no means an imaginative
man, shivered a little. The deep silence of the great empty land
emphasized by the sound reacted upon him and increased his restlessness.
Scarcely knowing why he did so, except that he felt he could not sleep, he
slipped on a few garments, and moved softly to the door, that he might not
disturb his daughter. There was no moon when he went out, but the stars
shone clearly in the great vault of blue, and the barns and stables he had
built rose black against the sky. Though Grant had lent him assistance and
he had hewn the lumber on the spot, one cannot build a homestead and equip
it for nothing, and when he had provided himself with working horses,
Muller had sunk the last of his scanty capital in the venture. It was
perhaps this fact which induced him to approach the stable, moving
noiselessly in his slippers, and glance within.
The interior was black and shadowy, but there was no doubting the fact
that the beasts were moving restlessly. Muller went in, holding his breath
as he peered about him, and one broncho backed away as he approached its
stall. Muller patted it on the flank, and the horse stood still, as though
reassured, when it recognized him, which was not without its meaning. He
listened, but hearing nothing groped round the stable, and taking a
hayfork went out as softly as he had entered, and took up his post in the
deepest shadow, where he commanded outbuildings and house. There was, he
knew, nobody but Grant dwelling within several leagues of him, and as yet
property was at least as safe in that country as it was in Chicago or New
York; but as he leaned, impassively watchful, against the wall, he
remembered an episode which had happened a few weeks earlier.
He had been overtaken by a band of stockriders when fording the creek with
his daughter, and one who loitered behind them reined his horse in and
spoke to the girl. Muller never knew what his words had been; but he saw
the sudden colour in the fräulein's face, and seized the man's bridle. An
altercation ensued, and when the man rejoined his comrades, who apparently
did not sympathize with him, his bridle hand hung limp and the farmer was
smiling as he swung a stick. Muller attached no especial importance to the
affair; but Grant, who did not tell him so, differed in this when he heard
of it. He knew that the cattle-rider is usually rather chivalrous than
addicted to distasteful gallantries.
In any case, Muller heard nothing for a while, and felt tempted to return
to his bed when he grew chilly. He had, however, spent bitter nights
stalking the franc tireurs in the snow, and the vigilance taught and
demanded by an inflexible discipline had not quite deserted him, though he
was considerably older and less nimble now. At last, however, a dim,
moving shadow appeared round a corner of the building, stopped a moment,
and then slid on again towards the door. So noiseless was it that Muller
could almost have believed his eyes had deceived him until he heard the
hasp rattle. Still, he waited until the figure passed into the stable, and
then very cautiously crept along the wall. Muller was not so vigorous as
he had been when proficiency in the use of the bayonet had been drilled
into him; but while his fingers tightened on the haft of the fork he
fancied that he had still strength enough to serve his purpose. He had
also been taught to use it to the best advantage.
He straightened himself a little when he stood in the entrance and looked
about him. There was a gleam of light in the stable now, for a lantern
stood upon a manger and revealed by its uncertain glimmer a pile of
prairie hay, with a kerosene-can upon it, laid against the logs. Muller
was not wholly astonished, but he was looking for more than that, and the
next moment he saw a shadowy object apparently loosing the nearest horse's
halter. It was doubtless a merciful deed, but it was to cost the
incendiary dear; for when, perhaps warned by some faint sound, he looked
up suddenly, he saw a black figure between him and the door.
On the instant he dropped the halter, and the hand that had held it
towards his belt; but, as it happened, the horse pinned him against the
stall, and his opportunity had passed when it moved again. Muller had
drawn his right leg back with his knee bent a trifle, and there was a
rattle as he brought the long fork down to the charge. Thus, when the man
was free the deadly points twinkled in a ray from the lantern within a
foot of his breast. It was also unpleasantly evident that a heave of the
farmer's shoulder would bury them in the quivering flesh.
"Hands oop!" a stern voice said.
The man delayed a second. The butt of the pistol that would equalize the
affair was almost within his grasp, and Muller stood in the light, but he
saw an ominous glint in the pale blue eyes and the farmer's fingers
tighten on the haft. There was also a suggestive raising of one shoulder;
and his hands went up above his head. Muller advanced the points an inch
or two, stiffening his right leg, and smiled grimly. The other man stared
straight in front of him with dilated eyes, and a little grey patch
growing larger in either cheek.
"Are you going to murder me, you condemned Dutchman?" he said.
"Yes," said Muller tranquilly, "if you der movement make. So! It is done
without der trouble when you have der bayonet exercise make."
The points gleamed as they swung forward, and the man gasped; but they
stopped at the right second, and Muller, who had hove his burly form a
trifle more upright, sank back again, bringing his foot down with a stamp.
The little demonstration was more convincing than an hour of argument.
"Well," said the man hoarsely, "I'm corralled. Throw that thing away, and
I'll give you my pistol."
Muller laughed, and then raised his great voice in what was to the other
an unknown tongue. "Lotta," he said, "Come quick, and bring the American
rifle."
There was silence for perhaps five minutes, and the men watched each
other, one white in the face and quivering a little, his adversary
impassive as a statue, but quietly observant. Then there was a patter of
hasty footsteps, and the fräulein stood in the lantern light with a
flushed, plump face and somewhat scanty dress. She apparently recognized
the man, and her colour deepened, but that was the only sign of confusion
she showed; and it was evident that the discipline of the fatherland had
not been neglected in Muller's household.
"Lotta," he said in English, "open der little slide. You feel der
cartridge? Now, der butt to der shoulder, und der eye on der sight, as I
have teach you. Der middle of him is der best place. I shout, und you
press quite steady."
He spoke with a quiet precision that had its effect; and, whatever the
girl felt, she obeyed each command in rotation. There was, however, one
danger which the stranger realized, and that was that with an involuntary
contraction of the forefinger she might anticipate the last one.
"She'll shoot me before she means to," he said, with a little gasp. "Come
and take the condemned pistol."
"Der middle of him!" said Muller tranquilly. "No movement make, you!"
Dropping the fork he moved forward, not in front of the man, but to his
side, and whipped the pistol from his belt.
"One turn make," he said. "So! Your hand behind you. Lotta, you will now a
halter get."
The girl's loose bodice rose and fell as she laid down the rifle, but she
was swift, and in less than another minute Muller had bound his captive's
hands securely behind his back and cross-lashed them from wrist to elbow.
He inspected the work critically and then nodded, as if contented.
[Illustration: "SHE'LL SHOOT ME BEFORE SHE MEANS TO."--Page 66.]
"Lotta," he said, "put der saddle on der broncho horse. Then in der house
you der cordial find, und of it one large spoonful mit der water take. My
pipe you bring me also, und then you ride for Mr. Grant."
The girl obeyed him; and when the drumming of horse-hoofs died away Muller
sat down in front of his prisoner, who now lay upon a pile of prairie hay,
and with his usual slow precision lighted his big meerschaum. The American
watched him for a minute or two, and then grew red in the face as a fit of
passion shook him.
"You condemned Dutchman!" he said.