The Untamed Read online

  Silent glanced at his weapons, cursed softly, and restored them to the holsters.

  "Lee," he muttered to Haines, who stood next to him, "what do you think he meant by that? D' you figger he's got somethin' up his sleeve, an' that's why he acts so like a damned woman?"

  "I don't know," said Haines gravely, "he looks to me sort of queer-sort of different-damned different, chief!"

  By this time Dan had secured a second gun which suited him. He whirled both guns, tried their actions alternately, and then announced that he was ready. In the dead silence, one of the men paced off the twenty yards.

  Dan, with his back turned, stood at the mark, shifting his revolvers easily in his hands, and smiling down at them as if they could understand his caress.

  "How you feelin', Dan?" asked Morgan anxiously.

  "Everything fine," he answered.

  "Are you gettin' weak?"

  "No, I'm all right."

  "Steady up, partner."

  "Steady up? Look at my hand!"

  Dan extended his arm. There was not a quiver in it.

  "All right, Dan. When you're shootin', remember that I got pretty close to everything I own staked on you. There's the stranger gettin' his four dollars ready."

  Silent took his place with the four dollars in his hand.

  "Are you ready?" he called.

  "Let her go!" said Dan, apparently without the least excitement.

  Jim Silent threw the coins, and he threw them so as to increase his chances as much as possible. A little snap of his hand gave them a rapid rotary motion so that each one was merely a speck of winking light. He flung them high, for it was probable that Whistling Dan would wait to shoot until they were on the way down. The higher he threw them the more rapidly they would be travelling when they crossed the level of the markman's eye.

  As a shout proclaimed the throwing of the coins, Dan whirled, and it seemed to the bystanders that a revolver exploded before he was fully turned; but one of the coins never rose to the height of the throw. There was a light "cling!" and it spun a dozen yards away. Two more shots blended almost together; two more dollars darted away in twinkling streaks of light. One coin still fell, but when it was a few inches from the earth a six-shooter barked again and the fourth dollar glanced sidewise into the dust. It takes long to describe the feat. Actually, the four shots consumed less than a second of time.

  "That last dollar," said Dan, and his soft voice was the first sound out of the silence, "wasn't good. It didn't ring true. Counterfeit?"

  It seemed that no one heard his words. The men were making a wild scramble for the dollars. They dived into the dust for them, rising white of face and clothes to fight and struggle over their prizes. Those dollars with the chips and neat round holes in them would confirm the truth of a story that the most credulous might be tempted to laugh or scorn. A cowpuncher offered ten dollars for one of the relics-but none would part with a prize.

  The moment the shooting was over Dan stepped quietly back and restored the guns to the owners. The first man seized his weapon carelessly. He was in the midst of his rush after one of the chipped coins. The other cowpuncher received his weapon almost with reverence.

  "I'm thankin' you for the loan," said Dan, "an here's hopin' you always have luck with the gun."

  "Luck?" said the other. "I surewill have luck with it. I'm goin' to oil her up and put her in a glass case back home, an' when I get grandchildren I'm goin' to point out that gun to 'em and tell 'em what men used to do in the old days. Let's go in an' surround some red-eye at my expense."

  "No thanks," answered Dan, "I ain't drinkin'."

  He stepped back to the edge of the circle and folded his arms. It was as if he had walked out of the picture. He suddenly seemed to be aloof from them all.

  Out of the quiet burst a torrent of curses, exclamations, and shouts. Chance drew Jim Silent and his three followers together.

  "My God!" whispered Lee Haines, with a sort of horror in his voice, "it wasn't human! Did you see? Did you see?"

  "Am I blind?" asked Hal Purvis, "an' think of me walkin' up an' bracin' that killer like he was a two-year-old kid! I figger that's the nearest I ever come to a undeserved grave, an' I've had some close calls! 'That last dollar wasn't good! It didn't ring true,' says he when he finished. I never seen such nerve!"

  "You're wrong as hell," said Silent, "awoman can shoot at a target, but it takes a cold nerve to shoot at a man-an' this feller is yellow all through!"

  "Is he?" growled Bill Kilduff, "well, I'd hate to take him by surprise, so's he'd forget himself. He gets as much action out of a common six-gun as if it was a gatling. He was right about that last dollar, too. It was pure-lead!"

  "All right, Haines," said Silent. "You c'n start now any time, an' the rest of us'll follow on the way I said. I'm leavin' last. I got a little job to finish up with the kid."

  But Haines was staring fixedly down the road.

  "I'm not leaving yet," said Haines. "Look!"

  He turned to one of the cowpunchers.

  "Who's the girl riding up the road, pardner?"

  "That calico? She's Kate Cumberland-old Joe's gal."

  "I like the name," said Haines. "She sits the saddle like a man!"

  Her pony darted off from some imaginary object in the middle of the road, and she swayed gracefully, following the sudden motion. Her mount came to the sudden halt of the cattle pony and she slipped to the ground before Morgan could run out to help. Even Lee Haines, who was far quicker, could not reach her in time.

  "Sorry I'm late," said Haines. "Shall I tie your horse?"

  The fast ride had blown colour to her face and good spirits into her eyes. She smiled up to him, and as she shook her head in refusal her eyes lingered a pardonable moment on his handsome face, with the stray lock of tawny hair fallen low across his forehead. She was used to frank admiration, but this unembarrassed courtesy was a new world to her. She was still smiling when she turned to Morgan.

  "You told my father the boys wouldn't wear guns today."

  He was somewhat confused.

  "They seem to be wearin' them," he said weakly, and his eyes wandered about the armed circle, pausing on the ominous forms of Hal Purvis, Bill Kilduff, and especially Jim Silent, a head taller than the rest. He stood somewhat in the background, but the slight sneer with which he watched Whistling Dan dominated the entire picture.

  "As a matter of fact," went on Morgan, "it would be a ten man job to take the guns away from this crew. You can see for yourself."

  She glanced about the throng and started. She had seen Dan.

  "How did he come here?"

  "Oh, Dan?" said Morgan, "he's all right. He just pulled one of the prettiest shootin' stunts I ever seen."

  "But he promised my father-" began Kate, and then stopped, flushing.

  If her father was right in diagnosing Dan's character, this was the most critical day in his life, for there he stood surrounded by armed men. If there were anything wild in his nature it would be brought out that day. She was almost glad the time of trial had come.

  She said: "How about the guns, Mr. Morgan?"

  "If you want them collected and put away for a while," offered Lee Haines, "I'll do what I can to help you!"

  Her smile of thanks set his blood tingling. His glance lingered a little too long, a little too gladly, and she coloured slightly.

  "Miss Cumberland," said Haines, "may I introduce myself? My name is Lee."

  She hesitated. The manners she had learned in the Eastern school forbade it, but her Western instinct was truer and stronger. Her hand went out to him.

  "I'm very glad to know you, Mr. Lee."

  "All right, stranger," said Morgan, who in the meantime had been shifting from one foot to the other and estimating the large chances of failure in this attempt to collect the guns, "if you're going to help me corral the shootin' irons, let's start the roundup."

  The girl went with them. They had no trouble in getting the weapons. The cold bl
ue eye of Lee Haines was a quick and effective persuasion.

  When they reached Jim Silent he stared fixedly upon Haines. Then he drew his guns slowly and presented them to his comrade, while his eyes shifted to Kate and he said coldly: "Lady, I hope I ain't the last one to congratulate you!"

  She did not understand, but Haines scowled and coloured. Dan, in the meantime, was swept into the saloon by an influx of the cowpunchers that left only Lee Haines outside with Kate. She had detained him with a gesture.

  * * *

  The coming of the railroad had changed Elkhead from a mere crossing of the ways to a rather important cattle shipping point. Once a year it became a bustling town whose two streets thronged with cattlemen with pockets burdened with gold which fairly burned its way out to the open air. At other times Elkhead dropped back into a leaden-eyed sleep.

  The most important citizen was Lee Hardy, the Wells Fargo agent. Office jobs are hard to find in the mountain-desert, and those who hold them win respect. The owner of a swivel-chair is more lordly than the possessor of five thousand "doggies." Lee Hardy had such a swivel-chair. Moreover, since large shipments of cash were often directed by Wells Fargo to Elkhead, Hardy's position was really more significant than the size of the village suggested. As a crowning stamp upon his dignity he had a clerk who handled the ordinary routine of work in the front room, while Hardy set himself up in state in a little rear office whose walls were decorated by two brilliant calendars and the coloured photograph of a blond beauty advertising a toilet soap.

  To this sanctuary he retreated during the heat of the day, while in the morning and evening he loitered on the small porch, chatting with passers-by. Except in the hottest part of the year he affected a soft white collar with a permanent bow tie. The leanness of his features, and his crooked neck with the prominent Adam's apple which stirred when he spoke, suggested a Yankee ancestry, but the faded blue eyes, pathetically misted, could only be found in the mountain-desert.

  One morning into the inner sanctum of this dignitary stepped a man built in rectangles, a square face, square, ponderous shoulders, and even square-tipped fingers. Into the smiling haze of Hardy's face his own keen black eye sparkled like an electric lantern flashed into a dark room. He was dressed in the cowboy's costume, but there was no Western languor in his make-up. Everything about him was clear cut and precise. He had a habit of clicking his teeth as he finished a sentence. In a word, when he appeared in the doorway Lee Hardy woke up, and before the stranger had spoken a dozen words the agent was leaning forward to be sure that he would not miss a syllable.

  "You're Lee Hardy, aren't you?" said he, and his eyes gave the impression of a smile, though his lips did not stir after speaking.

  "I am," said the agent.

  "Then you're the man I want to see. If you don't mind-"

  He closed the door, pulled a chair against it, and then sat down, and folded his arms. Very obviously he meant business. Hardy switched his position in his chair, sitting a little more to the right, so that the edge of the seat would not obstruct the movement of his hand towards the holster on his right thigh.

  "Well," he said good naturedly, "I'm waitin'."

  "Good," said the stranger, "I won't keep you here any longer than is necessary. In the first place my name is Tex Calder."

  Hardy changed as if a slight layer of dust had been sifted over his face. He stretched out his hand.

  "It's great to see you, Calder," he said, "of course I've heard about you. Everyone has. Here! I'll send over to the saloon for some red-eye. Are you dry?"

  He rose, but Calder waved him back to the swivel-chair.

  "Not dry a bit," he said cheerily. "Not five minutes ago I had a drink of-water."

  "All right," said Hardy, and settled back into his chair.

  "Hardy, there's been crooked work around here."

  "What in hell-"

  "Get your hand away from that gun, friend."

  "What the devil's the meaning of all this?"

  "That's very well done," said Calder. "But this isn't the stage. Are we going to talk business like friends?"

  "I've got nothing agin you," said Hardy testily, and his eyes followed Calder's right hand as if fascinated. "What do you want to say? I'll listen. I'm not very busy."

  "That's exactly it," smiled Tex Calder, "I want you to get busier."

  "Thanks."

  "In the first place I'll be straight with you. Wells Fargo hasn't sent me here."

  "Who has?"

  "My conscience."

  "I don't get your drift."

  Through a moment of pause Calder's eyes searched the face of Hardy.

  "You've been pretty flush for some time."

  "I ain't been starvin'."

  "There are several easy ways for you to pick up extra money."

  "Yes?"

  "For instance, you know all about the Wells Fargo money shipments, and there are men around here who'd pay big for what you could tell them."

  The prominent Adam's apple rose and fell in Hardy's throat.

  "You're quite a joker, ain't you Calder? Who, for instance?"

  "Jim Silent."

  "This is like a story in a book," grinned Hardy. "Go on. I suppose I've been takin' Silent's money?"

  The answer came like the click of a cocked revolver.

  "You have!"

  "By God, Calder-"

  "Steady! I have some promising evidence, partner. Would you like to hear part of it?"

  "This country has its share of the world's greatest liars," said Hardy, "I don't care what you've heard."

  "That saves my time. Understand me straight. I can slap you into a lock-up, if I want to, and then bring in that evidence. I'm not going to do it. I'm going to use you as a trap and through you get some of the worst of the lone riders."

  "There's nothin' like puttin' your hand on the table."

  "No, there isn't. I'll tell you what you're to do."

  "Thanks."

  The marshal drove straight on.

  "I've got four good men in this town. Two of them will always be hanging around your office. Maybe you can get a job for them here, eh? I'll pay the salaries. You simply tip them off when your visitors are riders the government wants, see? You don't have to lift a hand. You just go to the door as the visitor leaves, and if he's all right you say: 'So long, we'll be meeting again before long.' But if he's a man I want, you say 'Good-bye.' That's all. My boys will see that it is good-bye."

  "Go on," said the agent, "and tell the rest of the story. It starts well."

  "Doesn't it?" agreed Calder, "and the way it concludes is with you reaching over and shaking hands with me and saying 'yes'!"

  He leaned forward. The twinkle was gone from his eyes and he extended his hand to Hardy. The latter reached out with an impulsive gesture, wrung the proffered hand, and then slipping back into his chair broke into hysterical laughter.

  "The real laugh," said Calder, watching his man narrowly, "will be on the long riders."

  "Tex," said the agent. "I guess you have the dope. I won't say anything except that I'm glad as hell to be out of the rotten business at last. Once started I couldn't stop. I did one 'favour' for these devils, and after that they had me in their power. I haven't slept for months as I'm going to sleep tonight!"

  He wiped his face with an agitated hand.

  "A week ago," he went on, "I knew you were detailed on this work. I've been sweating ever since. Now that you've come-why, I'm glad of it!"

  A faint sneer touched Calder's mouth and was gone.

  "You're a wise man," he said. "Have you seen much of Jim Silent lately?"

  Hardy hesitated. The role of informer was new.

  "Not directly."

  Calder nodded.

  "Now put me right if I go off the track. The way I understand it, Jim Silent has about twenty gun fighters and long riders working in gangs under him and combining for big jobs."

  "That's about it."

  "The inside circle consists of Silent;
Lee Haines, a man who went wrong because the law didhim wrong; Hal Purvis, a cunning devil; and Bill Kilduff, a born fighter who loves blood for its own sake."

  "Right."

  "Here's something more. For Jim Silent, dead or alive, the government will pay ten thousand dollars. For each of the other three it pays five thousand. The notices aren't out yet, but they will be in a few days. Hardy, if you help me bag these men, you'll get fifty per cent of the profits. Are you on?"

  The hesitancy of Hardy changed to downright enthusiasm.

  "Easy money, Tex. I'm your man, hand and glove."

  "Don't get optimistic. This game isn't played yet, and unless I make the biggest mistake of my life we'll be guessing again before we land Silent. I've trailed some fast gunmen in my day, and I have an idea that Silent will be the hardest of the lot; but if you play your end of the game we may land him. I have a tip that he's lying out in the country near Elkhead. I'm riding out alone to get track of him. As I go out I'll tell my men that you're O.K. for this business."

  He hesitated a moment with his hand on the door knob.

  "Just one thing more, Hardy. I heard a queer tale this morning about a fight in a saloon run by a man named Morgan. Do you know anything about it?"

  "No."

  "I was told of a fellow who chipped four dollars thrown into the air at twenty yards."

  "That's a lie."

  "The man who talked to me had a nicked dollar to prove his yarn."

  "The devil he did!"

  "And after the shooting this chap got into a fight with a tall man twice his size and fairly mopped up the floor with him. They say it wasn't a nice thing to watch. He is a frail man, but when the fight started he turned into a tiger."

  "Wish I'd seen it."

  "The tall man tallies to a hair with my description of Silent."

  "You're wrong. I know what Silent can do with his hands. No one could beat him up. What's the name of the other?"

  "Barry. Whistling Dan Barry."

  Calder hesitated.

  "Right or wrong, I'd like to have this Barry with me. So long."