JOHNNY TAKES THE HUT
As the day waned the dropping shots became less and less frequent and
the increasing darkness began to work its magic. The unsightly plain
with its crevices and bowlders and scrawny vegetation would soon be
changed into one smooth blot, to be lighted with the lurid flashes of
rifles as Red and Pete fired at irregular intervals through the south
windows of the hut to keep back any rustler who tried to get the
ammunition within its walls. Two were trying and had approached the
window just as a bullet hummed through it. They stopped and looked at
each other and moved forward again. Then a bullet from Pete's rifle,
entering through the open door, hummed out the window and struck
against the rocky ridge.
"Say! Them coyotes can see us through that windy," remarked Clausen.
"Th' sky at our backs is too light yet."
"They can't see us standing here," objected Shaw.
"Then what are they shooting at?"
"Cuss me if I know. Looks like they was using th' winder for a
target. Reckon we better wait till it gets darker."
"If we wait till it's dark we can sneak in through th' door,"
suggested Clausen. "If we go in crawling we ain't likely to stop no
shot high enough to go through that windy."
"You can if you wants, but I ain't taking no chances like that, none
whatever."
Another shot whined through the window and stopped with an angry spat
against the ridge. Shaw scratched his head reflectively. "It shore
beats me why they keeps that up. There ain't no sense to it," he
declared in aggrieved tones. "They don't know nothing about them
cartridges in there."
"That's it!" exclaimed Clausen, excitedly. "I bet a stack of blues
they do know. An' they're covering somebody going in to steal 'em. Oh,
h--l!" and he slammed his hat to the ground in bitter anger. "An' us
a-standing here like a couple of mired cows! I'm going to risk it."
"Wait," advised Shaw. "Let's try a hat an' see if they plug at it."
"Wait be d----d! My feet are growing roots right now. I'm going in,"
and Clausen broke away from his friend and ran towards the hut, a
crouching run, comical to look at but effective because it kept his
head below the level of the window; without pausing in his stride his
body lengthened into a supple curve as he plunged head foremost
through the window, landing on the cabin floor with hands and feet
bunched under him, his passing seen only as a fleeting, puzzling
shadow, by the watchful eyes outside.
Across the cut Johnny was giving Red instructions and turned to leave.
"Th' cut is full of shadows an' th' moon ain't up yet. Now, remember,
one more shot through that window--I'm going to foller it right in.
Get word to Pete as soon as you can, though I won't pass th' door.
He's only got three cartridges left an' he'll be getting some anxious
about now. So long."
"So long, an' good luck, Kid," Red replied.
Johnny wriggled across the cut on his stomach, picking out the shadows
and gaining the shelter of the opposite bank, stood up, and ran to the
hut. Red fired and then Johnny cautiously climbed through the window
and dropped to the floor.
He had anticipated Clausen by the fraction of a second. As his feet
touched the floor the noise of Clausen's arrival saluted him and the
startled Johnny jerked his gun loose and sent a shot in the other's
direction, leaping aside on the instant. The flash of the discharge
was gone too quickly for him to distinguish anything and the
scrambling sound that followed mystified him further. That there had
been no return shot did not cause him to dance with joy, far
otherwise; it made him drop silently to his stomach and hunt the
darkest part of the hut, the west wall. He lay still for a minute,
eyes and ears strained for a sound to tell him where to shoot. Then
Red called to him and wanted an answer, whereupon Johnny thought of
things he ached to call Red. Then he heard a low voice outside the
south window, and it called: "Clausen, Clausen--what happened? Why
don't you answer?"
"Oh, so my guest is Clausen, hey?" Johnny thought. "Wonder if Clausen
can see in th' dark? 'Nother d----d fool wanting an answer! I'll bet
Clausen is hugging th' dark spots, too. Wonder if I scared him as much
as he scared me?"
The suspense was becoming too much of a strain and, poking his Colt
out in front of him, he began to move forward, his eyes staring ahead
of him at the place where Clausen ought to be.
Inch by inch he advanced, holding his breath as well as he could,
every moment expecting to have Clausen salute him in the face with a
hot .45. Johnny was scared, and well scared, but it only proves
courage to go on when scared stiff, and Johnny went on and along the
wall he thought Clausen was using for a highway.
"Wonder how it feels to have yore brains blowed out," he shivered.
"For God's sake, Clausen, make a noise--sneeze, cough, choke, yell,
anything!" he prayed, but Clausen remained ominously silent. Johnny
pushed his Colt out farther and poked it all around. Touching the wall
it made a slight scraping sound and Johnny's blood froze. Still no
move from Clausen, and his fright went down a notch--Clausen was
evidently even more scared than he was. That was consoling. Perhaps he
was so scared that he couldn't pull a trigger, which would be far more
consoling.
"Johnny! Johnny! Answer, can't you!" came Red's stentorian voice,
causing Johnny to jump a few inches off the floor.
"Clausen! Clausen!" came another voice.
"For God's sake, answer, Clausen! Tell 'em yo're here!" prayed Johnny.
"Yo're d----d unpolite, anyhow."
By this time he was opposite the door and he wondered if Pete had been
told not to bombard it. He stopped and looked, and stared. What was
that thing on the floor? Or was it anything at all? He blinked and
moved closer. It looked like a head, but Johnny was taking no chances.
He stared steadily into the blackest part of the hut for a moment and
then looked again at the object. He could see it a little plainer now,
for it was not quite as dark outside as it was in the building; but he
was not sure about it.
"Can't fool me, you coyote," he thought. "Yo're hugging this wall as
tight as a tick on a cow, a blamed sight tighter than I am, an' in
about a minute I'm going to shoot along it about four inches from th'
floor. I'd just as soon get shot as be scared to death, anyhow. Mebby
we've passed each other! An' Holy Medicine! Mebby there's two of 'em!"
He regarded the object again. "That shore looks like a head, all
right." He felt a pebble under his hand and drawing back a little he
covered the questionable object and then tossed the pebble at it.
"Huh, if it's a head, why in thunder didn't it move?"
There were footsteps outside the south window and he listened, the
Colt ready to stop any one rash enough to look in, Clausen or no
Clausen.
"Where's Clausen, Shaw?" said a voice, and the reply was so low Johnny
could not make it out.
"Yes; that's just what I want to know," and Johnny stared in frowning
intentness at the supposed head. He moved closer to the object and by
dint of staring thought he saw the head and shoulders of a man face
down in a black, shallow pool. Then his hand became wet and he jerked
it back and wiped it on his sleeve; he could hardly believe his
senses. As he grasped the significance of his discovery he grinned
sheepishly and moved back to the north wall, where no rustler's bullet
could find him. "Lord! An' I got him th' first crack! Got him shooting
by ear!"
"Johnny! Johnny!" came Red's roar, anxious and querulous.
Johnny wheeled and shook his Colt out of the window, for the moment
forgetting the peril of losing sight of the opening in the other wall.
"I'll Johnny _you_, you blankety-blank fool!" he shouted. Then he
heard a curse at the south window and turned quickly, his Colt
covering the opening. "An' I'll Johnny you too, you cow-stealing
coyotes! Stick yore thieving heads in that windy an' holler for yore
Clausen! _I_ can show you where he is, an' send you after him if
you'll just take a look! Want them cartridges, hey? Well, come an' get
'em!"
A bullet, fired at an angle through the window, was the reply and
several hummed through the open door and glanced off the steep sides
of the ridge. Waiting until they stopped coming he dropped and
wriggled forward along the west wall, feeling in front of him until he
touched a box. Grasping it he dragged the important cartridges to him
and then backed to the north window with them.
He fell to stuffing his pockets with the captured ammunition and then
stopped short and grinned happily. "Might as well _hold_ this shack
an' wait for somebody to look in that windy. They can't get me."
He dropped the box and walked to the heavy plank door, slamming it
shut. He heard the thud of bullets in it as he propped it, and
laughed. "Can't shoot through them planks, they're double thick." He
smelled his sticky fingers. "An' they're full of resin, besides."
He stopped suddenly and frowned as a fear entered his mind; and then
smiled, reassured. "Nope; no rustling snake can climb up that
ridge--not with Red an' Pete watching it."