Friar Tuck Part 38

Next day, we circled the peak and got up to the spot we had picked out. We could see the clump o' trees plain enough; and along about three in the afternoon, we saw the woman come up the path, walkin'

slow an' actin' weary. She had two big dogs with her, and whenever she'd stop to rest a bit, she'd pet 'em. "Well," sez The, "things has changed a heap when ol' Ty Jones stands for havin' his dogs patted."

We couldn't get a good view of her face from where we were, but we could get a fine view o' the ranch buildin's. The' didn't seem to be much work on hand, and we saw eight or ten men foolin' around an'

pretendin' to do ch.o.r.es. The recognized the two Greasers he had been ridin' with the day he had pulled on Horace, and one or two others; but most of 'em was strangers to him. He said the Greasers were about the most devilish speciments he had ever herded with-an' Ty's whole outfit was made up o' fellers who had qualified to wear hemp.

Horace was keen to go on down to her an' get a good look; but me an'

The took the bits in our teeth at this. We knew what those dogs were like, an' refused pointblank to go a peg unless he could think up a good enough excuse for us to give to Ty Jones-and we wouldn't let Horace go down alone.

"The best plan I can see," sez I, pointin' to a cl.u.s.ter o' big rocks down the slope to the left, "is to circle back to those rocks. We can see her face plain from there when she comes back the path."

After examinin' this plan we decided it was the best; but when we went after our hosses, Horace's had broke his reins an' gone back through the hills. By the time me an' The had rounded him up, it was too late, so we had to wait till next day.

Next day I left the other two at our first look-out and rode on to the new one. As soon as she came in sight, I waved my hat to 'em and they sneaked down to the bunch o' rocks. I rode back an' left my hoss with theirs, an' then joined 'em.

She didn't come into view till after five o'clock. When she reached the edge of the ravine an' started down, she paused an' looked off into the valley with her face in plain view. Horace looked at it through his gla.s.ses, gave a start, and then handed the gla.s.ses to The.

"Have you ever seen any one who looked like her?" sez he.

The looked and broke out into a regular expression. "That's the original of the photograph I had," sez he.

"That's the Friar's girl, sure as the sky's above us," sez Horace.

I grabbed the gla.s.s and took a look. She did look like the picture, but older and more careworn. Some way I had allus thought o' the Friar's girl as bein' young and full of high spirits, with her head thrown back an' her eyes dancin'; but just as I looked through the gla.s.ses, she pressed her hands to her head, and her face was wrinkled with pain. She was better lookin' than common, but most unhappy.

"That devil, Ty Jones, is mean to her!" I growled between my teeth.

"Dogs or no dogs, I'm goin' down to have a talk with her," sez Horace.

He started to get up, but I pulled him back to the ground. I had kept my eyes on her, and had seen the two dogs turn their heads down the ravine, and her own head turn with a jerk, as though some one had called to her. Horace looked through the gla.s.ses again, and said he could see her lips move as though talkin' to some one, and then she went down into the ravine. We couldn't see the bottom of the ravine from where we were, nor we couldn't see the ranch buildin's; so we hustled back through some washes to our look-out, and reached it just as she and Ty came out at the bottom.

They were walkin' side by side, but Horace, who was lookin' through the gla.s.ses, said they seemed to be quarrelin'. "It's moonlight to-night," sez Horace, "and I'm goin' to sneak down and try to see her."

We argued again' it all we could, but he stood firm; so all we could do was to sit there and wait for the lights to go out in the bunk-house. As she was a reader, we figured 'at she'd be the last one to turn in; normal habits an' appet.i.tes not havin' much effect on book-readers.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

JUSTICE UNDELAYED

Human emotions are like clocks: some of 'em will run longer 'n others; but they'll all run down unless they're wound up again every so often.

Even fear will only run so long, as several late-lamented bullies have been forced to learn just before they pa.s.sed over the Great Divide.

After you've scared a feller as bad as he can get, it is well enough to let him alone. If you keep on addin' horror onto horror, his fear is likely to run down; and the chances are 'at he'll get irritated, and slaughter ya.

I don't know whether or not patience can rightly be called an emotion; but anyway, mine runs down a little easier 'n airy other o' my faculties, and sittin' up in the chill an' waitin' for a lot o'

festive fools to go to bed, allus was just the sort o' thing to disgust me. Those Cross-branders didn't seem to have any more use for shut-eye that night than a convention o' owls. Some of 'em rode off at dusk, but more of 'em arrived, and they held some sort of high jinks in the bunk-house, till I began to talk back at myself loud enough for all to hear. It was full moon an' we could see dogs loafin' an'

fightin' down at the ranch, the light in the new cabin was the first to go out, an' for the life of me, I couldn't see where we had a single pair to stay on; but Horace seemed to acc.u.mulate obstinacy with every breath he drew. The sided with me, but criticizin' Horace went again' his religion, so he didn't make any more uproar than a gnat fight.

Finally I calmed down until I could stretch each word out a full breath an' sez in my doviest voice: "Horace, will you kindly tell me what in h.e.l.l you intend to do?"

He studied the situation careful, and took all the time he needed to do it. "I'm goin' back to camp," sez he. "To-morrow night they'll be sleepy, and we'll have the whole place to ourselves."

"Hurrah for hot weather! Greece has finally melted!" I yelled, an' we hustled for our ponies.

I have a buck-skin riggin' I put on the bridle of a hoss who gets into the evil way of steppin' on his reins; and I had fixed one on Horace's hoss to bring him back to his senses should he attempt to play the same trick he had worked on us the day before. When a hoss wearin' one o' these contrivances steps on his reins it pinches his ears, down close to his head where they're tender, and generally works a reformation in short order.

We forgot all about this, and when Horace jumped into his saddle, he gave a jerk on the reins-and got bucked into a clump o' cactus. The hoss didn't try any runnin', though, which proves he had learned a proper respect for trailin' reins. Still, Horace wasn't quite in the mood to see the beauty o' my method, so he insisted upon my swappin'

hosses with him. It was a good two-hours' ride to Olaf's, and by the time we had changed saddles, and I had convinced the pony that his idees of buckin' were childish an' fu-tile, and his show of temper had only given him a hundred an' ninety pounds to carry instead of a hundred an' twenty, it was after nine o'clock.

We were hungry enough to call for speed; but still it was eleven by the time we reached the Spread. We thought we had seen a horseman go into it from the other direction; but the moon had ducked under a cloud and we couldn't be certain.

We didn't intend to waken Kit if we could help it; so we started to put the hosses into the corral as quiet as possible. Just as we had thrown our saddles over the top bar, we heard a commotion from the cabin, and started for it on the run.

There wasn't any light in the cabin; but we heard Kit screamin', and before we arrived, we saw a man rush around the corner just as the door was flung open, and two other men jumped towards him from the inside. These two had knives in their hands; and the man outside took a step back. They rushed him, but he hit one with his right fist, and the other with his left, and curled 'em both up again' the side o' the house in a way to make a feller's heart dance for joy. Then we saw it was the Friar himself, and we gave a whoop.

Kit had banged the door shut, put up the bar, got a rifle and made ready for what was to come next; but when she heard our whoop, she put on her wrapper and opened the door. The two men 'at the Friar had crumpled up were those same two Greasers 'at The had told us were the meanest pair he had ever herded with.

We took 'em by the heels an' straightened 'em out, while Kit indulged in a few little hystericals. The Friar had allus been a great hand to expound upon moral force an' spiritual force, and such items, and now when the two Greasers refused to come back an' claim their own bodies, he got a little fidgetty.

"Friar," I sez, "I give in to you. Your quiet way o' lettin' the right work out its own salvation is the surest way I know; and in an emergency like this, it does full as well as violence."

The Friar wasn't in no mood for hilarity, though; so after gettin'

their weapons an' tyin' 'em up, we soused the Greasers with water, and brought 'em back to give an account o' themselves, Kit all the time tellin' us what had happened.

It seems 'at Kit had been hoein' in her beloved garden that day an'

had been purty tired at night; so after waitin' for us until she got exasperated, she had eaten her own supper, put ours on the table, an'

turned in. Olaf had put up another cabin the same size as his first.

He had put 'em side by side with a porch joinin' at their eaves. In one cabin was the dinin' room an' kitchen, all in one, and in the other was the bedroom an' settin' room.

Kit had heard a noise in the settin' room and had opened the door before she was full awake, thinkin' it was the dog or cat. The minute she had opened the door they had grabbed her, and she had begun to scream. They shut off her wind a little; but they wasn't rough with her-quite the contrary. They leered into her eyes, and patted her on the shoulders, and made queer, gurglin' noises in their dirty brown throats; but they didn't speak to her, not one word.

Kit was strong, an' she had fought 'em to a standstill for what she thinks was twenty minutes, at least; but she was beginnin' to weaken.

One of 'em kept his arm about her neck, and whenever she tried to scream, shut off her wind. She had heard the Friar's hoss nicker when he opened the first pole gate, and this provided her with enough moral courage to sink her teeth into the wrist of the arm about her neck.

The feller had give a yell, and struck her; but at the same time, she had opened up a scream of her own which loosened things all over the neighborhood.

The Friar had first put for the settin' room door; but they had locked this door on the inside, intendin' to go out the side door. He savvied this so he dove into the porch-way between the two cabins, and made a rattlin' on this door. They had paused at this; but he had to rattle several times before they took down the front bar. We had been fordin'

the crick about this time.

The Greasers had tried to get out the window once; but Kit had called out what they were up to; so they had turned on her an' choked and beat her scandalous.

This was Kit's side, and by the time she had finished tellin' it, the Greasers had begun to moan an' toss. The Friar gave a sigh of relief, as soon as they came to enough to begin grittin' their teeth. I sat 'em up with their backs again' the side of the cabin, and intimated that we were ready to receive their last words.

We had to encourage 'em a bit, one way or another; but we finally got out of 'em that they had poisoned the dog, and then cut a crack in the door till they could raise the bar. They said 'at Ty Jones hadn't had no hand in plannin' their trip; but had offered 'em a hundred apiece if they could put Olaf in the mood of wishin' he had sold out peaceable.

"Well," sez I, as soon as they were through, "shall we finish with 'em to-night, or give 'em till to-morrow to repent?"

"We shall of course deliver them to the proper officials to be tried by due process of law," sez the Friar.