The Land of Strong Men Part 39

"And if it is, your talk doesn't call it off," Angus retorted, and left the house. And that night, being in a worse mood than ever, he threw a saddle on Chief and rode away to have it out with his brother.

Turkey dwelt alone in a log shack on the outskirts of the town. Angus had never visited him, but he knew the place well enough. There was a light in the shack, and after listening a moment to make sure there was n.o.body else there, he knocked. Turkey's voice bade him enter.

Turkey was lying on a bunk reading by the light of a lamp drawn up beside him, and his eyebrows lifted as he recognized his visitor.

"It's you, is it?" he said.

"I have come to talk to you," said Angus.

"Then you'd better sit down while you're doing it," said Turkey, as he got out of his bunk.

Angus sat down. There was but one room, in which Turkey ate and slept.

The walls were decorated with pictures cut from magazines. A rifle and shotgun leaned in a corner with a saddle beside them. At the head of Turkey's bunk hung a holstered six-shooter. The place was tidy enough, save for burnt matches and cigarette b.u.t.ts which Turkey had carelessly thrown down.

"To save time," Angus began, "I'll tell you that this is a show-down."

Turkey's eyes narrowed at his tone, and the old, latent hostility sprang to life in them.

"Then spread your hand," he said. Angus took the knife from his pocket and tossed it on the table.

"That's yours, isn't it?"

Turkey picked up the knife, surprise in his face.

"You ought to know it."

"I do know it."

Turkey shrugged his shoulders. "All right. Thanks. Say whatever you have to say, and don't stall."

"I can say that in a few words," Angus returned. "It is not because you are my brother, but only for Jean's sake that I keep my hands off you.

Do you get that?"

"I can tell you another reason," Turkey retorted, his young face hardening, "which is that I won't let you put your hands on me. You'll get hurt if you try it. Now go on."

"I want the names of the men who were with you."

"What men? With me when?"

"You know mighty well," Angus accused him.

"All right, have it your own way."

"I want their names."

"Then keep on wanting them," Turkey returned. "If you think I know what you mean, keep on thinking it. Keep on having your own way, same as you've always had. Same as you had when you got me to quit the ranch.

Now you can go plumb, understand?"

"Before I leave here," Angus said, "you will tell me what I want to know, or--"

"Or what?" Turkey demanded.

"Or you will lie in that bunk for a week and be glad to do it," Angus finished grimly. His young brother's eyes closed down to mere slits.

"Get one thing straight," he said. "I'll take no more from you now than I would from a stranger. Remember what I told you about keeping your hands off me. I mean it!"

"And so do I," said Angus rising. "No more nonsense, Turkey. Will you answer my question?"

Turkey was on his feet instantly. He took a step backward. "No," he said; "I won't tell you one d.a.m.ned thing. Keep away from me, Angus. Keep away, or by--"

Unheeding the warning, Angus sprang forward. Turkey dodged, leaped back, and his hand shot for the gun hanging by his bunk. It came out of its holster. Angus swung his arm against it, and it roared in his ear. He grasped it as the hammer fell a second time, and the firing pin pierced the web of his hand between thumb and finger. He ripped the weapon from Turkey's weaker hands and threw it away. Then he lost control of himself and let his anger have full sway.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Angus swung his arm against it, and it roared in his ear._]

Turkey was a strong, active young fellow, but against his brother's thews and bulk he was helpless. Angus did not strike him; he poured his strength in a flood upon the body in his grasp, shaking and worrying it as a great dog might worry a fox. But as the tremendous handling shook away the last of Turkey's power of resistance, the door opened, there were voices, a rush of feet, a hard fist came against Angus' ear, and an arm shot around his neck.

With this a.s.sault sanity came to him. He caught the wrist of the arm and twisted it, and he heard a yell of pain. He thrashed himself free, leaping back against the wall.

The newcomers were Garland, Blake French, Gerald, Larry and two young men strangers to Angus. Blake French, nursing a twisted wrist, cursed him.

"By ----, he was trying to murder Turkey!" he declared.

The younger Mackay swayed forward, his face white in the lamplight.

"Shut up!" he said. "Don't talk d.a.m.ned foolishness!"

"He was choking you," Garland cried. "Somebody used a gun. The room's full of powder smoke."

"If you don't like smoke the air's good outside," Turkey told him.

Angus stared at his young brother in amazement. He had expected denunciation.

"This isn't your put in--any of you," Turkey declared.

"But--"

"But--nothing!" Turkey snapped. "Mind your own business, can't you! Who asked you to horn in?"

Gerald grinned, a certain admiration in his lazy eyes.

"All right, Turkey, I get you completely. See you later. Come on, boys."

When the door closed behind them Turkey dropped into a chair, shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at his brother.

"You're a husky devil!" he said after an interval of silence. "What were you trying to do--kill me?"

"I don't know," Angus admitted.

"If you had been just a shade slower," said Turkey, "I would have blown your head off. So I can't blame you much. Well--what happens now?"