Following the Grass (16 page)

Grimm seemed to sense his thought and, ruffling his feathers, he drew his head in and clacked his tongue with the very effect of a short chuckle. Joseph glanced at him shrewdly.

“Grimm,” he muttered, “I almost believe you read me. What have you to say?”

The crow moved his eyes slowly and with a look of great wisdom began to walk around the fire. He stopped all of a sudden and without warning let out a shrill: “Ca-w-w-w !”

Joseph snapped erect.Some one was coming! He could not question Grimm. He called a warning to Necia and backed away from the fire.

Only one reason could bring a man up the mountain to-night. His jaws clicked at the thought. No man must come between Necia and him! Whatever the cost, there was no altering that.

There, beneath the stars, he would fight his battle for her. Waiting,hands clenched, he assumed the rôle for which his God had created him—the defender of his mate!

W
HEN
noontime passed without any sign of Necia, Thad and Angel had begun to ask questions, and as the afternoon wore away the old Basque became more and more reluctant to face Thad's wrathful eyes. But the sight of him staring moodily across the desert at the mountain only infuriated the ranchman the more.

“I shouldn't never let her go,” he snapped, and glared at Angel daring him to deny his words. Getting no answer, he marched out and rang the ranch bell, ordering his horse to be saddled.

“I ain't goin' to wait much longer,” he growled when he came back to the house. “If she ain't here by dark, I'm a-goin' up there to get her.”

The Basque scowled and got up and went outside muttering to himself.He was fully as much alarmed as Thad, but his agitation sprang from a fear that was no part of the old cattleman's anxiety. The question that obsessed Angel grew with the passing minutes, and when he heard Thad come to the door half an hour later, he turned to him excitedly.

“It is five O'clock,” he exclaimed. “It is absurd to think it has taken her all this time to deliver our message. Do you suppose—that he has won her over?—that she has taken his side against us?”

“Are you mad, man?” Thad screamed. “I know that girl. She's nobody's fool. They ain't no turn-coats in my family.”

“But he is no ordinary man,” Angel replied, truculently. “I have begun to feel that it is possible for him to do anything.”

“Talk—talk—talk!” Thad shouted.

“Yes—? Well,
señor
, I have seen him perform a miracle.”

“What?—this dry spell?”

“No! Yesterday he led—led, not drove—three hundred sheep from the ranger's cabin on Powder Creek to my
rancho
. He had no dogs. It was hot. The
pinguey
grows thick along that trail, but not one of that flock ate it.

“Yes, and he corralled them, bedded them down, in ten minutes. No one helped him. Those ewes licked his hand. They called for him when he went away.

“And you—you have seen that coyote—a wild coyote, the breed we have always fought, the kind that has killed my sheep and pulled down your calves since we first came—you have seen him gentled, tamed, taught to herd flock.

“And that crow—that horrible crow—he has made him wiser than either of us. You know I speak the truth.”

“That don't scare me,” Thad declared emphatically, deceiving himself in his anger. “You got somethin' to fear him for; I ain't. He's just a man to me. It ain't my way to tell folks where to head in, but you have been ridin' herd on that boy, and on his maw before him, a long time. If you tremble now, that's
your
business.

“You came to me to help git rid of him. And we'll do it; but if you want me to string along with you, don't you put too much store in him tamin' animals.

“If you knew my girl as I do, you'd waste no time gabberin' about him turnin' her against me. I was pretty hard on her to-day, but she knows that's my way—that I got to do a little rantin' when folks try to cross me.”

Angel was at no pains to conceal his contempt for his ally.

“Why does she not return then?” he inquired cuttingly.

“He's got her held a prisoner, that's why!” and Thad cursed violently. “He ain't a-goin' to move off without a fight. If you ain't blind, you must see what he's plannin' to do. He's a-gain' to hold her over my head—the damn gospel shark! I reckon I'll stop him short. He'll find he's dealin' with a man that won't be stopped by any side-show tricks. Soon as it gits dusk, I'm a-goin' to steal up there—and I'm a-goin' armed.”

“But he will know you are coming. I will go with you—and we will go unarmed. We can not surprise him. The crow will warn him.”

“Well, we'll go, crow or no crow, and we'll go armed! My good name is at stake. No man's ever had cause to question the wimmen of my family. God help him if he's put a hand on her. I ain't too old to use a gun.”

“Yes, but guns are not popular to-day, my friend.”

“If I was younger—if I was the man I used to be, there'd be no talk of guns. I'd go up there with my bare fists and git her.”

“But you are old—and I am old—and this is a young man's job."

“There's no denyin' that,” Thad admitted. Angel had no desire to face Joseph, and he hastened to take advantage of what he thought might be wavering on Thad's part.

“You—have your men,” he prompted.

“Hell! My
men!”
Thad exclaimed contemptuously. “They think he's an apostle. What of your sons? Where's Andres?”

Angel hung his head.

“He whipped Andres yesterday morning. That is why he came with Andres's flock.”

“That boy whipped Andres?” Thad demanded incredulously. “A man twice his size?”

“It is no use to deny it,” Angel answered. “Andres could not walk.”

“Well, it wa'n't a fair fight, I'll bet!” old Thad exclaimed. “It ain't possible. I've seen Andres fight. God, if he was only here now. I know him; I bet he's achin' to git even. He'd be the one to go up Buckskin. He'd git Necia—where's he at?”

The Basque shook his head at the implied thought.

“He is at the ranger's cabin or nearby,” he said wearily.

“I can git him,” Thad declared confidently. “My fencin' gang is camped out between Heaton's place and the stage-station on Powder Creek. They's a 'phone to the station. Duval will send word to my men. They'll git in touch with Andres. I'll tell 'em to let him have a horse. He can git here in two hours.”

“It will soon be night,” Angel demurred.

“All the more reason that we shouldn't stand here wastin' time. You ain't backin' down, be yuh? You was anxious enough to have me send Necia up there. We're a-goin to go through with this play now.”

“I have not changed my mind,” Angel flashed back, his eyes snapping under Thad's lashing.

“Well, shall I git Andres?”

“Yes—if he will come. This thing might as well be settled to-night. Tell him I said he should come.”

Thad left Angel staring up at Buckskin, a gray blur in the deepening twilight, while he went in to telephone. The instrument was one of the old-fashioned kind on which it was necessary for the party calling to ring for central, and Thad spun the little handle savagely. The din brought Little Billy, the cook, to the dining-room door.

“Sumthin' wrong?” he demanded, with the privilege of a trusted man-at-arms.

“If they ain't, they's a-goin' to be if you ain't out of here directly. What you standin' there gabbin' about?”

“Miss Necia—”

Thad slammed the receiver down.

“Say!” he roared. “Don't you be spillin' that to the boys. You'll have less hair than you got now and no job if you do. You git me?”

Little Billy grinned. He understood the symptoms. Something was decidedly amiss. He nodded his answer.

“Then git!” Thad shouted, turning back to the telephone.

He had no trouble in getting in touch with his men, but the forty minutes which passed before he heard the bell ring, announcing that the Powder Creek station was calling, reduced him to a state bordering on nervous exhaustion. The word which he received cheered him. Andres had left the ranger's cabin at noon on foot for the valley. He was going by way of Antelope Springs. That meant that he would be passing the Circle-Z ranch-house in the next hour.

Thad ran out to tell Angel, but as he approached the old Basque he stopped suddenly, for Angel was staring wide-eyed at two spots of fire twinkling far up the side of Buckskin. Thad felt the man's fingers tighten on his arm.

“See!” he pointed. “Two fires—his and hers. Your granddaughter is
not
a prisoner.”

Thad's mouth popped open as he sensed the meaning of the twin fires. He swallowed deeply, a queer sound rumbling in his throat.

“It is an act of Providence,” he mumbled, and Angel stared at him, at a loss to understand his meaning. “Andres left the ranger's cabin at noon,” Thad went on then. “He'll be here within the hour. Told Heaton he was comin' to find him—Joseph! God!—he can't come too soon.”

A
NDRES
came in due time, and he was surprised to find his father awaiting him. The son's face was still swollen and discolored from the beating he had received.

Thad stared at him, reading in his appearance the true story of the man's encounter with Joseph. The old cowman was still loath to admit the truth, but in the face of such evidence he could not deny it, and he pursed his lips nervously, his confidence in Andres's ability to rescue Necia undeniably shaken.

Angel spoke to his son in Basque, and Andres replied to him in the same tongue. Thad waited, thinking each was intent only on explaining his presence there, but as they ran on without any sign of consulting him, he exclaimed sharply:

“That's enough of that lingo. We'll talk English, so I can git a word in.”

“I was asking him about his trouble with the boy,” Angel said in an effort to appease Thad. “He says he was whipped fairly.”

“How'd he do it?” Thad demanded. “You weigh nigh two hundred, Andres.”

“I lose my head,” answered Andres. “But eet ees my fault. I was wrong. I should not make Felipe try to ride those horse. I bear no grudge, though.”

Angel and Thad flashed a glance at each other.

“Why I thought you was out to git him,” Thad exclaimed. “I called up the station an hour back. We was lookin' for you. Heard you'd told Heaton you was comin' back lookin' for Joseph.”

Thad had not yet explained his present interest in him, and Andres, remembering the past, answered sullenly:

“Mebbe that ees so,
señor.”

“You ain't any too certain about it, be yuh? You ain't afraid of him?”

Andres grinned in a way that made Thad draw back.

“No,” he muttered, “I—understand heem.”

“You understand him,” Thad repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean—I know hee ees my friend,” Andres replied slowly, his face hardly less unlovely, for all that his eyes softened. “I have come to ask heem to take my hand.”

“What?” Thad and Angel uttered the ejaculation as one man. Bewildered, momentarily crushed by what they had just heard, they dropped into their chairs, speech denied them. Could it be that this was their champion, the man for whom they had waited, the one who was to do their work this night—who was to drive Joseph away and restore Necia to her grandfather?

Andres glanced from one
to
the other, not understanding their bafiled look. Anger began to surge in Thad and his face purpled, but Angel's was the color of chalk.

“Eet ees a surprise, eh?” the big man queried, not overly pleased with them.

“You—you're the man I sent for,” Thad managed to utter at last. “Bah!” and he accompanied the exclamation with a frightful curse. “My girl's up there!” he roared. “My girl—hoodwinked by him—fooled by his fancy talk. You was to git her for me. She wouldn't be there if your father hadn't come with his palaver. He talked me into sendin' her; anythin' to git rid of that boy.”

Thad raised his fist and shook it at Angel. “Look at him now—shakin' as if he'd seen a ghost. And you—tellin' me you're a-goin' to ask Joseph to forgive you! Say! Where do I git off?” Thad banged the table with his fist, his voice rising with rage. “Are you just a-goin' to sit here?”

Angel shook his head weakly.

“It is as I told you,” he murmured; “First your girl, and now my son. One by one that boy wins them. You mocked me, but I spoke the truth. He's in league with the devil. I can feel him fastening on to me.”

Angel got up, his hands working nervously. “I was against you this afternoon when you talked of going up there armed. Well, I won't stop at anything now. He's got to go. You let me talk to Andres. I'll call you when I'm done.”

“Well, you'd better talk some sense into him,” Thad retorted. He got up and started to leave the room, but he came back and opened his safe. Andres had dropped into a chair beside the table. Thad went up to him, a stack of twenty dollar gold pieces in his hand.

“I don't know how many's there,” he exclaimed. “I've got more if I need 'em. I drove Necia away from this house. I want her back before midnight—and no talk.” He spread the gold pieces in front of Andres. “Take 'em,” he muttered, “but you git Necia for me.”

The big fellow's eyes narrowed as he stared at the gold, but he made no effort to scoop them up, and as Thad left the room, Andres lifted the red cloth which covered the table and dropped it over the money as if desirous of removing the temptation. His father drew up a chair and studied him.

“My son,” he began in Basque, “we are back to-night where we were twenty years ago. You have said you came to find this boy, to ask him to forgive you.”

“That is true,” Andres answered, slouching further down in his chair.

“No—no, Andres. It can not be. Do you know that he is the boy Kincaid said had died—that he is Joseph Gault?”

“Joseph Gault?” Andres barely whispered the name. Instantly his mind flashed back to what the boy had said to him. A haggard look crept into his eyes. His father saw his mouth twitch.

“There is no need of your answering,” said he. “You must know what he has come back to do.”

“Dorr?” Andres breathed.

“It is his chief reason. Dorr's daughter is up there with him. He won her over. This man, Taylor, is blind. The girl is in love with that man. I saw it when they met here a week ago. The boy hopes to hurt me, too. I feel it wherever I turn, but I tremble more for you, Andres. Did he say nothing to you?”

“Yes,” Andres nodded. “He asked me what I was called, and when I told him he said: 'So you are Andres, eh? I might have known. Timoteo was right.' ”

“Aw-w-w!” Angel gasped and shuddered. “He knows!” he said hopelessly.

“He can not know I” Andres replied with strange emphasis.

“That his father had nothing to do with Dorr's death ?—he
must
know! And Timoteo—what does he know of him? What is this thing that Timoteo has said? He would not remember him —can it be that he has found the boy's body?”

Andres's head sagged down on his chest at the thought, and with each passing second he found it harder to refute it. Andres had never talked about Timoteo, and yet Joseph had hurled his brother's name at him with studied purpose.

Angel read his son's train of thought, and he echoed it. In his soul he knew his surmise was correct. No further explanation was possible, and the truth crushed him. He shook his head as Andres muttered unconvincingly:

“It can not be. We looked for Timoteo.”

“It can be,” his father replied. “The boy is not like other men. I can not deny it any longer—he has a power.”

He told Andres how Joseph had brought the flock. This was something Andres could understand, but he only narrowed his. eyes the more.

“You do not seem to understand, Andres,” his father went on. “If that hoy has found Timoteo, if he accuses you—I am ruined. The drought continues. Soon I must borrow money. I've got to buy hay-land. I may even need to ask men for range. My name must not he blackened by what happened so long ago. And you, Andres—what must happen to you, if he talks—if he knows the truth?”

Andres held his breath until the air rushed from his lungs explosively, hut the snarl that his father half expected did not follow. Andres's voice dropped almost to a whisper as he said:

“Maybe—I go to jail. Maybe I will be—be—”

“Yes, that. That is what it will mean, my son.” Despair gripped Angel. “Back—back where we were twenty years ago. And I thought myself done with the Gaults.”

Andres saw his father age as he sat before him. Pockets gathered beneath Angel's eyes; the hollows in his cheeks became deeper. Andres began to believe that he might die without ever leaving his chair. He was totally unprepared to see his father spring erect, something of his old fire leaping back. into his eyes as his masterful will summoned the flesh.

“We will stop this to-night!” he exclaimed. “You are going up the mountain. Get this man's girl for him, but be done with this Joseph first. Taylor can not break with me. Between us, he and I have more to say about what goes on in this country than all the others put together.

“When we say that Gault's boy stole Necia Dorr men will remember how his father ran away after the crime. They will see his son come back to revenge himself on Dorr's daughter.

“You go! You will have guns. Use them if he will not give up the girl. When he raises his hand to stop you—end it right there.”

Andres's eyes burned into his father's.

“So you, my father, ask me to kill him,” he muttered finally, his tone chilling.

Angel clenched his teeth and pushed out his lips in an angry grimace. The words came with a whistling sound as he said:

“Between the two of you, I have to choose. He must die. You do not refuse to go?”

“No I No, I will go,” Andres answered as he got to his feet, “but I must say what I should have said years ago. Behind my back my own people, even my brothers, have called me a coward—a bully—they have been right. I was just that. Timoteo knew. You have never heard the truth about what happened that night. I killed Dorr—”

“You need not shout it out,” Angel protested.

“No one here understands—if they do, I care not—I shot Dorr. I did not go out that night to kill him. You know that is so.

“You had talked your hatred of the Gaults into me from the cradle. When Timoteo and I went up to run Gault's sheep across this man Taylor's line, we thought we were pleasing you. You were to blame. You do not have to shake your head, my father. I speak the truth for once.

“Timoteo was ahead of me. Dorr shot him. So I shot Dorr. I have often forgotten that, but I never forget that I ran away when my little Timoteo called to me. I left him there to die. A million times I have heard him cry: 'Andres, you are a coward!' I have heard it on the range when I have been alone. It is with me all the time—'Andres you are a coward I' I saw him; I heard him—but I ran.

“I was a coward. I have always been a coward. I said nothing when you drove Margarida away. I let you put the law after this boy's father. Always I have been afraid.”

“Stop—stop!” Angel groaned.

“We have much to be ashamed of,” Andres declared. “But I am going to prove to you to· night that I am no longer a coward. I will go—as you ask. You have always told me of the honor of the Irosabals. Well, I will do my part for the Irosabals to-night. Call this man, Taylor. I do not want his gold. Call him I”

“Have you talked some sense into him?” Thad inquired as he opened the door.

“I will go,” Andres answered for his father.

“Well that's—”

“And I will take your guns,” Andres went on without heeding Thad's interruption.

“You have got sense, ain't yuh?” exclaimed Thad. “You take my guns. Strap 'em on yuh. Put 'em around in back of you. You'll have to walk up to his fire with your hands in the air: He won't think you're armed.

“If he tries to stop you”go ahead. Your father and me'll be behind you. But don't you come back without Necia.

“Don't look for trouble—go up to him as if you was his friend. You understand?”

“Si
,
señor,”
Andres drawled. “I understand!”