They Of The High Trails Part 18

"Oh, well! That was 'war.' Jake had a gun, and Mink is able to prove that he shot in self-defense. Furthermore, he has settled with Jake."

Kelley argued no more. He could have called Rosa in as a witness to the attempt upon his life, but to do so would expose her to public comment, and her big, solemn, worshipful eyes had already produced in him a vague pity. Without understanding fully her feeling, he knew that she looked up to him, and he perceived that she was born to sorrow in larger measure than she deserved. Sallow, thin, boyish, she gave promise of a kind of beauty which would sometime make her desired of both white men and brown.

"Poor little mongrel!" he said to himself. "She's in for misery enough without worrying over me."

"Well, I'm up against it now," Kelley remarked to Dad Miller, Hornaby's foreman, the next time he met him. "Mink's friends have thrown a scare into the judge and he has turned that coyote loose against me. Looks like I had one of two things to do--kill the cuss or jump the town."

"Shoot him on sight," advised Miller.

"If I do that I'm 'in bad' with the court," Kelley argued. "You see, when I took him before, I had the law on my side. Now it's just man to man--until he commits another crime. Killing me wouldn't be a crime."

"That's so," mused his friend. "You're cinched any way you look at it."

Kelley went on: "Moreover, some of my greaser friends have started a line of fool talk about making me sheriff, and that has just naturally set the whole _political_ ring against me. They'd just as soon I got killed as not--a little sooner. I've a right to resign, haven't I?

n.o.body has a license to call me a coward after what I've done, have they?"

"No license; but I reckon they will, all the same," responded his friend.

Kelley's face hardened. "Well, I'll disappoint 'em. I'm going to stay with it." However, he went to the mayor and voiced his resentment of the court's action.

His Honor pretended to be greatly concerned. "Now, don't quit on us, Ed.

Hornaby expects you to stay put. You're the only man who can clean up the town. You've done great work already, and we appreciate it. In fact, we're going to raise your pay."

"Pay to a corpse don't count," retorted Kelley. "It's a question of backing. You fellows have got to stand behind me."

"We'll do it, Ed. Only, Hornaby thinks you'd better put a card in the paper saying that you have no intention of going into politics."

"Oh, h.e.l.l!" said Kelley, disgustedly. "Is Hornaby suspicious of me, too?

Well, for that I've a mind to run," and he went out in deep disgust.

As the days went by and no open movement against him took place, his vigilance somewhat relaxed. Mink kept to his lair like some treacherous, bloodthirsty animal, which was a bad sign.

At heart Tall Ed was restless and discontented. Each day he walked the streets of the fly-bit town; dreaming of the glorious desert s.p.a.ces he had crossed and of the high trails he had explored. He became more and more homesick for the hills. Far away to the north gleamed the snowy crest of the Continental Divide, and the desire to ride on, over that majestic barrier into valleys whose purple shadows allured him like banners, grew stronger. Each night he lifted his face to the stars and thought of his glorious moonlit camps on the Rio Perco sands, and the sound of waterfalls was in his dreams.

"What am I here for?" he asked himself. "Why should I be watch-dog--me, a wolf, a free ranger! Why should I be upholding the law? What's the law to a tramp?"

Had it not been for a curious sense of loyalty to Hornaby, added to a natural dislike of being called a quitter, he would have surrendered his star and resumed his saddle. He owned a good horse once more and had earned nearly two hundred dollars. "With my present outfit I can amble clear across to Oregon," he a.s.sured himself, wistfully.

As he stood with uplifted face, dreaming of the mountains, Rosa Lemont came down the street, and as she pa.s.sed him said in a low voice: "Mink's on the plaza--crazy drunk. Watch out!"

Kelley straightened and cast an unhurried glance around him. No one was in sight but a group of cow-punchers tying their horses in front of a saloon, and a few miners seated on the edge of the walk. Nevertheless, he knew the girl had good reason for her warning, and so, after walking a block or two in the opposite direction, he turned and came slowly back up the main street till he reached Lemont's doorway, where he paused, apparently interested in something across the street.

Rosa came from within and with equally well-simulated carelessness leaned against the door-frame. "Mink's bug-house," she explained, "and got a Winchester. He's just around the corner, waiting for you. He says he's going to shoot you on sight." She stammered a little with excitement, but her voice was low.

"Much obliged, Rosie," he replied, feelingly. "Don't worry. I may see him first. And listen; while I have a chance I want to thank you for pushing that screen onto him. It was a good job."

"That's all right," she answered, hastily. "But please be careful."

"Don't worry," he gravely replied. "I've beat him once and I can do it again." And after a pause he added: "I reckon you're the only one that cares what happens to me--but don't mix in this game, little one. Don't do it."

A crowd had gathered in the street, with attention concentrated as if for a dog-fight, and Kelley, pushing his way through the circle, suddenly confronted Mink, who, as the object of interest, was busied in rolling a cigarette, while his Winchester leaned against a post. To this fact Kelley probably owed his life, for in the instant between the gambler's recognition and the s.n.a.t.c.hing up of his rifle Kelley was able to catch and depress the muzzle of the gun before it was discharged. The bullet pa.s.sed low, entering the wooden sidewalk close to his foot. "I'll take that gun," he said, and would have immediately overpowered his adversary had not several of the by-standers furiously closed in upon him. Single-handed he was forced to defend himself against these, his fellow-citizens, as well as against Mink, who struggled like a wildcat for the possession of his gun. One man seized the marshal from behind, pinioning his arms. Another hung upon his neck. A third dogged at his knees, a fourth disarmed him.

Battered, bruised, covered with blood and dirt, the marshal fought like a panther weighed down with hounds. Twice he went to earth smothered, blinded, gasping, but rose again almost miraculously, still unconquered, until at last, through the sudden weakening of the men on his right arm he gained possession of the rifle, and with one furious sweep brought it down on the gambler's head. Another circling stroke and his a.s.sailants fell away. With blazing eyes he called out: "_Get back there now! Every man of you!_"

Breathing hard, he looked them over one by one. "You're a pretty bunch of citizens," he said, with cutting contempt. "You ought to be shot--every man jack of you!" Then glancing down at the wounded gambler at his feet, he added: "Some of you better take this whelp to a doctor.

He needs help."

Lemont and another of Mink's friends took up the unconscious man and carried him into the drug-store, and Kelley followed, with a feeling that all the town was against him, and that he must re-arm himself for a night of warfare. His revolver was gone, and to replace it and to gain a breathing-s.p.a.ce he retreated to his room, his endurance all but exhausted.

He had no regret for what he had done. On the contrary, he took a savage satisfaction in having at last ended Mink, but as he hurriedly buckled on his cartridge-belt, he foresaw the danger ahead of him in Mink's friends, who, he knew, would get him if they could.

The patter of feet in the hall and a knock at the door startled him.

"Who's there?" he demanded, catching up his rifle.

"It's Rosa," called a girlish voice. "Let me in."

"Are you alone?"

"Yes. Open! Quick!"

He opened the door, gun in hand. "What is it, Rosie?" he gently asked.

"They're coming!" she answered, breathlessly.

"Who're coming?"

"That saloon crowd. They're almost here!"

Other footsteps sounded on the stairs. "Run away, girl," said Kelley, softly. "There's going to be trouble--"

Rosie pushed him back into the room. "No, no! Let me stay! Let me help you fight!" she pleaded.

While still he hesitated, Mrs. Mink, a short, squat woman with eyes aflame with hate, rushed through the doorway and thrust a rifle against Kelley's breast. Quick as a boxer Rosa pushed the weapon from the woman's hands and with desperate energy shoved her backward through the door and closed it.

"Run--run!" she called to the marshal.

But Kelley did not move, and something in his face turned the girl's face white. He was standing like a man hypnotized, every muscle rigid.

With fallen jaw and staring eyes he looked at the weapon in his hand. At last he spoke huskily:

"Girl, you've saved my soul from h.e.l.l. You surely have!" He shivered as if with cold, rubbing his hands stiffly. "Yes," he muttered, "a second more and I'd 'a' killed her--killed a woman!"

The sound of a fierce altercation came up the hall. Cautious footsteps were heard approaching, and at last a voice called out, "h.e.l.lo, Kelley!

You there?"

"I am. What's wanted of me?"