The Lone Ranger and Tonto (18 page)

Read The Lone Ranger and Tonto Online

Authors: Fran Striker,Francis Hamilton Striker

Tags: #western

BOOK: The Lone Ranger and Tonto
6.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

It was one of the Sheriff's deputies. He wheeled to a rearing halt when he drew near the stores and cafés and Langford heard his shout. "They're comin' in," the horseman cried. "Come on out, boys, an' give the Sheriff a rousin' welcome! He's bringin' in Ma Prindle's murderer alive."

Men hurried from their homes and rushed up to the man with shouted questions. "It's true," the messenger yelled. "The Sheriff located Dave Walters in a cave up Snake River Canyon, an' he's cut across country tuh git him in this evenin'!"

Langford, for some unexplainable reason, felt sorry for the prisoner. He realized what a slim chance the man would have with public sentiment so strong against him. He leaned from the window, hoping to get a glimpse of Dave Walters as the posse came by with him. A soft touch on his shoulder made him turn quickly. "Martha!" he said in surprise.

"What is that man saying, John?" the woman said.

"You'd better get back in bed dear, rest…"

"I've rested long enough, John. I feel quite able to be up." Martha Langford looked out the window at the group of excited men. "What is it all about?"

"They are bringing in the man who killed Mrs. Prindle."

"Oh, the poor lad!" said Martha.

"Poor lad?" echoed her husband, "Why do you say that?"

"Because he has no chance for a fair trial. I-I would almost prefer to see him escape than to be brought back to the sort of trials they have in this town."

John Langford brushed a wisp of hair from Martha's forehead, then took her arm and led her away from the window to another part of the house. "It's so strange," she said, "I feel stronger, better, John, far stronger than I have felt for months. I do think I'm going to be really well again."

Langford said, "Of course you are, dear," encouragingly. "Now let's see what we can do about some supper."

Higgy too was thinking about supper as he made his methodical way toward the Royal Flush. Supper for Steve Delaney would be the last meal the gambler would ever eat. In his right-hand trouser pocket he fingered the box of poison and thought gloatingly of how he would tell the tall dark man what he thought of him, while Delaney fought in vain against the effects of the harmless looking white powder. He ignored the front of the café and the main street of the town and headed for the rear door that gave direct access to Delaney's living quarters. If Delaney were not there he would search further, but that was the first place he would look.

The Lone Ranger, at long last, saw the man he had waited for all afternoon. He managed to get back inside Delaney's rooms before Higgy noticed him, and stood behind the door, waiting.

Higgy did not stand on ceremony. He slapped the door open with all the force of his huge hand, and began speaking when he crossed the threshold, "Delaney, I—" he stopped abruptly. Before him stood the tall masked man whose right hand was in his gunbelt.

"Stand right where you are, Higgy," commanded the Lone Ranger.

Higgy was somewhat surprised at the greeting. "Yuh know me?" he said.

"I know you, and I know Delaney. Don't reach for your gun."

"I'm here tuh deal with Delaney," snapped Higgy, all his plans gone completely from his mind in his anger at finding the masked man present. "Now stand aside an' clear out of this room."

"Take your hand off that gun," commanded the Lone Ranger.

"I will like fun!" Higgy's hand jerked up and two blasts, so close together they might have been a single report, shook the place. At the instant Higgy pulled the trigger, the masked man's hand flashed up and his gun barked.

Higgy screamed with pain and frustration as his gun leaped from his hand like a thing alive and arced across the room. Vile curses from the drooling mouth of the infuriated Higgy filled the air and his eyes were red with bestial bloodlust. All his pent-up hatred for Delaney found an outlet in the stream of vituperation he unloosed.

"Stop your shouting," barked the Lone Ranger, "and listen to me." But Higgy was beyond reasoning. He ignored the fact that he had lost his gun. He ignored the smoking weapon still held by the Lone Ranger. He lowered his bullet-shaped head and, bellowing like a bull gone berserk, charged head on at the masked man.

Tonto watched the scene with Baldy and Steve Delaney, the latter two still bound on the bed. The Lone Ranger lightly side-stepped Higgy's charge. The wild-eyed man was carried forward by his own momentum until he crashed against the wall and fell to the floor. But he was on his feet again in an instant, rushing again at the Lone Ranger. His huge arms reached to throw themselves about the slim form of the man he had grown to hate within the last two minutes. Once more the Lone Ranger side-stepped the rush, then shouted above the roars of Higgy, "You fool, listen to me. I want to tell you something."

But Higgy was beyond the power to listen, or to reason. He had eyes only for the man he wanted to attack. Apparently, he had not seen the forms sprawled on the bed. He wanted to kill. He had come equipped to kill. He snatched the knife from his sleeve and held it high as he charged a third time. The Lone Ranger had no choice. He must make this blind, blundering fool hear what he had to say. Between the shouts and yells of Higgy, the Lone Ranger heard another cry. Shouts from the street outside told him that Dave Walters was being brought into town. Time was short. As Higgy charged, the Lone Ranger dropped to the floor. His muscled shoulder met Higgy just below the knees. The force of the blow sent a shock through the masked man's injured arm, but Higgy too was hurt. He tripped and fell, sprawling and clawing in his efforts to regain his balance.

The Lone Ranger leaped upon the prostrate man and grabbed handfuls of Higgy's bristling hair. He held the apelike face close to the floor while he spoke. "Get this through your head, Higgy, I've done you a favor. I've got Steve Delaney for you."

"I'll kill yuh," roared Higgy.

"You'll not do anything of the sort. Isn't it Delaney you came to get? Stop your yelling and look on the bed. You'll find him there, all tied and gagged, and waiting for you."

Sanity slowly returned to Higgy. The Lone Ranger had to repeat his message several times before the heavy man's eyes registered the fact that he had comprehended. The clamour outside increased, as Higgy subsided. The Lone Ranger was fully aware of his own position. If he were found, the men would unquestionably cry for his life. He was wanted for the supposed robbery of the night before, and for his aid in helping Dave Walters to escape. Time was short. Ironically, after an entire day of waiting, seconds counted now. "Do you understand me, Higgy?
That's Steve Delaney on the bed. He's yours
." Then the masked man leaped to his feet and stood to one side. Higgy disarmed of both his guns and knife, leered at the form of Steve Delaney on the bed.

Then the Lone Ranger acted with lightning speed. He heard the Sheriff and his men enter the Royal Flush. He threw open the door that connected Delaney's rooms with the café and shouted at the top of his voice. "
You

Sheriff
!"

Half a dozen men turned toward the speaker. The Lone Ranger brought both hands up, and poured a dozen fast shots into the ceiling of the café. There were howls and cries from the men outside. Above all the shouting, one thing stood out, "The Masked Man. The robber. Go git him." The Lone Ranger left the door open, shouted a word to Tonto, and raced out the back door.

Higgy was almost upon Steve Delaney, his hands reaching for the gambler's throat, when the Sheriff's men burst in. They knew the masked man had left by the rear door, but here was murder about to be done. The lawmen grabbed at Higgy, hauled him back, and other men hurriedly cut away the bindings and gags of the gambler and Baldy.

"Keep your hands away from guns," snapped a curt command at the door.

The Lone Ranger stood there, holding his reloaded weapons. "The first man who moves will stop a bullet," he went on. "Sheriff, I want you to keep a close watch on that man. His name is Higgy, and he has something to tell you."

Several men were about to speak, but their jaws hung open silently when they saw what the masked man held in one hand, in addition to his gun—jewelry, more of it than any they had ever seen at one time; "This is the property of John Langford," explained the Lone Ranger. "Delaney has been taking it from him over a period of many months. Higgy will tell you more about that."

Higgy did. He glared at Delaney, shouting, "Yuh dirty double-crosser. Yuh told me yuh was robbed by that man last night. Yuh told me that yuh never got much of anything from old man Langford, an' yuh lied. Yuh got thousands of dollars from him."

"
Quiet
!" There was something about the voice of the Lone Ranger that made men obey him when he spoke, even Higgy was intimidated. "There is a lot that needs explaining," he said, "but what you men are mainly interested in right now is the murder of Mrs. Prindle." He turned toward the disheveled gambler. "Delaney accused Dave Walters of the murder, didn't he?" Men nodded assent. "Delaney claimed that he had been supporting Mrs. Prindle for some time. The truth is that she was constantly lending money to him. He owed her thousands of dollars. When he found he couldn't pay her, he killed her to get back the I.O.U's she held. I found those I.O.U's beneath his floor, where he had hidden all the jewelry he took from Langford. Delaney wasn't the rich man you all thought he was. He had a lot of mortgages that were worthless and this jewelry, but he had to borrow cash from Mrs. Prindle. If he isn't the one who killed her, let him explain these I.O.U's with his name signed to them."

One look at the gambler's face was all that anyone needed for proof of his guilt. He was pale, ashen, and trembled in terror at the cold stares of the men. The Lone Ranger went on without mercy, lashing fact after fact, to drive home the guilt of the gambler in a way that left no room for argument. "He saved his letters from her. You'll find them all here. She tells him that if he doesn't pay up what he owes, she'll expose him."

The Lone Ranger tossed a bundle of letters toward the Sheriff. "You can look these over at your leisure," he said.

Everyone in the room hung on the masked man's words. There was no longer any idea of trying to capture him. He seemed to be a law unto himself, and he had much more to say.

"Mrs. Prindle wasn't as kindly and good as many of you thought. She knew that Delaney was a blackmailer, and knew that he was making life miserable for a certain fine old couple here in town. A couple who thought their only son was dead. If this son were to return alive, Delaney would have no further hold on the Langfords."

"Langfords!" echoed a couple of men in surprise.

"That's why," continued the Lone Ranger, "Delaney killed Mrs. Prindle. Mrs. Prindle had been approached by the son of these fine people, and she told the gambler that if the boy found his parents, the blackmail game would be finished. So Delaney took advantage of the chance. He murdered the woman, then fixed the blame on the man you have just brought in—Dave Walters."

An awed hush fell over the men. The Lone Ranger swung on Higgy and pointed a finger at him. "Higgy," he barked, "This is your chance to tell the truth. Perhaps you can escape the hangman's rope if you'll do that."

All eyes turned on Higgy. He looked stupidly from one side to another. "Answer me," commanded the Lone Ranger, "
Haven't I told the truth
?"

Higgy shouted his reply. "You hit the nail right on the head. I dunno about the murder of the old woman, but I do know that that dirty double-crosser was gittin' all that jewelry from the Langfords because the old man didn't want his woman tuh see the boy's confession. An' the crooked son of a polecat lied tuh me. He got thousands outen the Langford's an' he gave me less'n a hundred dollars of it."

Steve Delaney's eyes were glassy. His limbs went limp and he slumped and would have fallen, if the men on each side of him hadn't supported him. "Guilty as a man c'n be," the Sheriff decided. "I hated tuh think the kid was guilty, but everything pointed that way till you put a new light an' a different angle on it." He turned to Eph Summers. "Go bring the boy in here," he said. Then his face grew dubious again. "They's just one thing," he said, "if what you say is true, how come Delaney told me where I could go an' find the kid tuh fetch him back?"

The Lone Ranger changed his voice to imitate that of the unconscious gambler. "Do you think," he said, "that it was Delaney who sent you there?"

"It's that crittur," bellowed Baldy, speaking for the first time. "I was took in by him, too, until I seen him drinkin' salt water."

Men laughed and shouted, slapping each other on the back as they realized that Steve Delaney, the man they all hated but feared to offend, was at long last to be made to pay for what he had done. Jeb Larkspur whooped with joy as he realized that he was about to regain control of the café that had been swindled from him. In his hysterical joy, he even promised Baldy a raise in pay. In the midst of the bedlam, Eph brought Dave Walters in. A hush fell as the men saw the pale, wan face of the boy. The Sheriff turned to face him.

"Son," the lawman began, "I want to ask you just one question, an' if you answer that question honestly, you might go free."

Dave looked from the Sheriff to the Lone Ranger. The masked man nodded slightly. Dave looked at Tonto and saw the broad grin that the Indian displayed. He regained confidence. "Wha… what's the question?" he asked.

"I want you to tell me your honest to goodness name."

"M-my name?"

"Your own name, Dave," said the Lone Ranger.

"Dave… Dave Langford."

A shrill voice, a new one broke from behind the men. "
My son
!" John Langford rushed into the room.

In the hush that followed, father and son embraced each other and the strongest among them had to turn his head. It was one of those scenes that made observers feel like interlopers. No one saw just when the tall masked man and his Indian companion left the room. When the men turned toward the tall man who had done most of the talking for the past ten minutes, they saw that the rear door of the place was closed.

Other books

Raising a Cowgirl by Jana Leigh
A Sprig of Blossomed Thorn by Patrice Greenwood
Staking Their Claim by Ava Sinclair
Daisy's Defining Day by Sandra V. Feder, Susan Mitchell
The Miracle by Irving Wallace
Home by Larissa Behrendt
The Listener by Taylor Caldwell
The Day is Dark by Yrsa Sigurdardóttir