the Hash-Knife Outfit (1985) Read online

  "You killed Bambridge?" ejaculated the rancher.

  "I shore did. An' Croak told me he'd seen thet gambler Darnell kickin' at the end of a rope. But, Jim, you'll hear all thet pronto. I'll have to rustle... One thing more. Malloy may kill me. I reckon I can outfigger him, but to be on the safe side you'd better send a trusty rider with thet money, an' after you do, make a bee-line for Yellow Jacket. For I'll fetch the girls there."

  "Jed Stone, by--heaven!...wait!" faltered the old cattleman.

  But Stone had spurred away, to call over his shoulder, "So long, Jim--old pard!"

  Like the wind Stone raced back down the road, and as soon as he was sure of direction he cut across the cedared desert and into the woods, where gallop and trot soon brought him upon Malloy's tracks. He followed them, and marvelled in mind at the inscrutability of chance, at the inevitableness of life--at this meeting with Jim. After all, he was not to ride away from the brakes without the blood of Croak Malloy on his hands. How his heart leaped at the just cause! For as surely as his keen eyes were finding the tracks over moss and pine needles, he realised he would kill Malloy. Very likely all three of the rustlers! He must come up to them before night, otherwise the young women would be subjected to abuse and worse. Malloy had always made much of his few opportunities to degrade women. Probably owing to his misshapen body and repulsive face all women, even the slatterns of the town, had wanted none of his acquaintance, which had made the little gunman a woman-hater.

  The hours of the day were as moments. Forest and ravine, pine and spruce, rock and log, all looked alike to Stone. Yet he recognised familiar country when he rode into it. By mid-afternoon he had approached the vicinity of Tobe's Well, a wonderful natural hollow in the high escarpment overlooking the Cibeque. Stone left the trail he was hounding, and going around came up on the rim from the south. Horses rolling below in the sandy patches! Smoke curling from the stone chimney of the log cabin! Saddles and packs under the great silver spruce!

  Jed Stone led his horse around the rim and down a dim seldom-trodden trail to the opening into the circular gorge. And never in all his twenty years of hard, wild life had he been more Jed Stone.

  No one hailed him as he strode along the mossy bank of the brook, under the stately pines, and on toward the cabin. The lonely isolation of the place invited carelessness. But Stone muttered: "They must be powerful keen on what's inside. Reckon I didn't get here too soon."

  Dropping the bridle reins, he strode on to the open door. It was a big bright cabin, open on the lee side. And as he glanced in he heard a girl's low cry, deep, broken with emotion. He saw a dark little girl with gold-brown hair, all tossed and tangled, lying bound half upright against a pile of packs. That was Molly Dunn. He did not need to look twice. His eyes swept on.

  Madden was on his knees, his hands white with flour, but on the moment he appeared riveted. Reeves stood back, his face set toward Malloy, who manifestly had just torn the blouse off a white-faced, white-shouldered girl, shrinking before him.

  The moment had been made for Jed Stone. He recognised it, and saw, as if by magic, how far in the past it had its incipiency and now had reached fulfilment. He gloried in it. What debts he would pay here!

  He stepped inside to call out, harshly, "What the hell's goin' on?"

  It was the first occasion on which he had ever seen Malloy surprised, but perhaps the thousandth when he had seen him angry. Stone felt his sudden presence had been decidedly inopportune for his erstwhile partner and his accomplices.

  "Aw, it's the boss!" gasped Madden, in explosion of breath that suggested relief.

  "Who's been chasin' you?" burst out Malloy, and with a gesture of impatience he flung down the torn blouse.

  "Jed Stone!" screamed Molly Dunn, and if ever a voice thrilled Stone this one did then. She had recognised him. Even on the moment he remembered the times he had patted Molly's curly head when she was a mere tot, had bought her candy at the store in West Fork, had often lifted her upon his horse, and in later years, when she was grown into a pretty girl, he had walked with her on occasions when he rode to and fro from the Cibeque to the Tonto.

  "Wal, I reckon ten thousand devils might be chas'in' me, fer all you'd care, Croak," replied Stone. "I jest happened in on you here."

  "Damn queer, an' I call it tough. You're wuss'n an old woman," complained Malloy.

  "Who're these girls an' what're you doin' with them?"

  "Jed we got into another brush down in the brakes," replied Malloy. "Damn if it wasn't full of cowpunchers. But we give them the slip. An' comin' out we run plumb into old Jim Traft an' these gurls. It gave me a great idee. An 'hyar air the gurls while old Jim is raisin' the dust back to Flag."

  "My Gawd!--Not old Jim Traft--the rancher?" burst out Stone, loudly, in pretended consternation.

  "Shore. I said old Jim, didn't I?"

  "An' these girls are friends or kin of his?"

  "Shore. I reckon you'd know Molly Dunn if you'd look. She knowed you all right. The other is young Jim Traft's sister."

  "An' you aim to make money out of them?"

  "I shore do."

  "An' make game of them while the money's comin'?" demanded Stone, harshly.

  "Wal, thet's none of your bizness, Jed," rejoined Malloy, testily. Habit was strong upon him. This interruption had upset him and he had scarcely adapted himself to it.

  But Stone, acting his part, intense and strong, saw already that Malloy's mind had not grasped the situation.

  "Man, are you crazy?" shouted Stone. "Jim Traft will have a hundred cowboys ridin' on your trail. You couldn't hit it--with nine horses. They'll catch you--they'll hang you."

  "Hang nothin'. Jed, you're the one who's crazy. What's got into you lately?" replied Malloy, in plaintive amaze and disgust. "You're gettin' old and you've lost your nerve."

  "Croak, you've done fer the Hash-Knife, an' now this deal will set the whole country ablaze."

  Malloy stared his amaze. Stone, seizing the instant, strode to and fro in apparent despair, and wringing his hands, he wheeled away. But when he turned, swift as light, he held a gun spouting red. The little gunman died on his feet, without a movement, even of that terribly sensitive right hand. But he fell face down, showing where the bullet had blown off the back of his head.

  Madden, with a bawling curse, swept one of his flour-covered hands for his gun. Too late, for Stone's second shot knocked him over as if it had been a club.

  Reeves leaped for the door, just escaping the bullet Stone fired after him. And he was visible running madly in the direction of the horses. Stone let him go. Then he surveyed the cabin. A glance sufficed for Madden and Malloy, but it was a dark and terrible one, of reckoning, of retribution.

  The girl Malloy had half stripped had slipped to the floor in a faint, her white arms spread. Then on the instant Molly Dunn's eyes opened, black and dilated with terror.

  "How do, Molly!" said Stone, as he bent over her to slash the thongs of buckskin round her boots. He had to roll her over to free her hands. "I reckon I got her none too soon, but not too late, either."

  "Oh, Jed--you've come--to save us?" cried Molly.

  "Shore. An' as I said I hope not--too late."

  "We're all right, Jed. But, oh, I was scared. Thet croakin' devil!... Is he daid?"

  "Malloy has croaked his last, Molly," went on Stone. "I happened to run across old Jim out on the road. Thet's how I got on your trail. Brace up, now, Molly. Why, this little affair shouldn't phase Molly Dunn of the Cibeque."

  "I knowed--knew you at first sight, Jed. An' oh, my heart leaped!... Jed thank God you come in time. I was aboot ready to die. I'd fought Malloy till he hawg-tied me... Oh, how can I ever thank you enough? How will Jim ever do it?"

  "Wal, you needn't try to thank me, Molly," he replied. "Now let's see... It's 'most dark already. We'd better camp here tonight. An' tomorrow we'll start for Yellow Jacket... Reckon I'd better pull these disagreeable-lookin' hombres outside."

  Inside the cabin Stone saw
that Molly had somehow gotten the torn blouse on the unconscious girl, and was now trying to bring her to.

  "Let nature take its course, Molly," he advised. "She'll come to presently of her own accord, an' mebbe the shock of her will be less... Lord! what a pretty girl! I never seen her like... An' she's young Jim's sister?"

  "Yes. An' isn't she just lovely?"

  "Here, we'll lift her up on this bed of spruce. Somebody cut it nice an' fresh. You can both sleep there tonight."

  "Glory--you called her?"

  "Shore. But her name's Gloriana."

  "An' she's a city girl from the East?"

  "Yes. An', Jed, she's come to live out West always."

  "Fine, if you can keep her. Proudlookin' lass! Won't this little adventure sicken her on the West?"

  "It'll be the best thing that ever happened to her," avowed Molly, with bright eyes. "Jed, she shore was aboot the proudest girl I ever met. An' Jim's sister. His family, really! Gosh! it was hard on me. I made a mess of things. Jed, I went back on Jim because I thought I wasn't good enough for him--for his aristocratic family. But he kidnapped me--thank the good Lord. I reckon I was jealous, too."

  "Small wonder, Molly. It was tough on you--to stack up against these Trafts, you just fresh from the Cibeque. But you're good enough fer anybody, Molly Dunn. I shore hope it'll come out all right."

  "Oh, it will, Jed," replied Molly, hopefully. "Glory has a heart of gold. I love her--an' indeed I believe she's comin' to love me. But she can't savvy me. Heah I've had only two years schoolin', an' lived all my life in a log cabin no better'n this, almost. Never had any clothes or nothin'. An' she has had everythin'. Uncle Jim says the West will win her an' thet she an' I will get along an' be sisters soon as Glory is broke in. He says she must get up against the real old West--you know, an' thet will strike the balance. I don't savvy jest what Uncle Jim means, but I believe him."

  "Molly, I reckon I savvy what Uncle Jim is drivin' at," replied Stone, smiling thoughtfully at the earnest girl. "The real old West means hard knocks, like this one she's gettin', cowboys an' cattle, work when you want to drop, an' no sleep when you're dyin' fer it. Cold an' wet an' dust an' wind! To be starved! To be scared stiff!... A hundred things thet are nothin' at all to you, Molly Dunn, are what this city girl needs."

  "Jed, thet's exactly what Uncle says... I'm to marry Jim soon," she went on, with a blush. "They all wanted it this spring, but I coaxed off till fall."

  "Ahuh. I reckon you love him heaps, Molly?"

  "Oh!--I'm not really Molly Dunn any more. I've lost myself. I'm happy, though, Jed. I'm goin' to school. An' if only Glory could see me as I see her!"

  "Wal, I'll help her see you true, Molly," returned Stone, patting her hand. "Now, I'd better go outside while you fetch her to. Sight of the desperado who came a-rarin' in here, swearin' an' shootin', mightn't be good."

  "Jed, she was simply crazy aboot desperadoes," said Molly, "An' I honestly believe she was tickled when Malloy carried us off. Leastways, she was till he got to pawin' her."

  "Dog-gone! Thet's good... Now, Molly, don't you say one word aboot me till I think it over. I'll go outside an' see to my horse. An' when she's all right, you come out to tell me. Mebbe by then I'll have a plan."

  "Jed Stone, never in my life--an' I've always know you--did I ever think of you as a rustler, a killer, a bad man. An' now I know you're not really."

  "Thanks, Molly; thet'll be sweet to remember," he replied. "Fetch her to, now, an' say nothin'."

  Stone went outside, unsaddled his horse and turned him loose, then walked to and fro, in his characteristic way when deep in thought. Presently Molly came running to him. What pleasure that afforded the outlaw whose life had been lived apart from the influence of women!

  "She's come to, Jed. An' she's not so knocked out as I reckoned she'd be," said the girl, happily. "I darn near exploded keepin' our secret--thet we're safe with you an' will start in the mawnin' fer Yellow Jacket."

  "Wal now, Molly Dunn, you stick to me," rejoined Stone, eagerly. "We'll let on I'm wuss than Croak--thet I jest killed them fellars an drove the third off so I could have you girls to myself. It's a good three-day ride to Yellow Jacket, fer you, anyhow. Thet gives us time to cure Miss Gloriana of all her bringin'-up. I'll be real shore enough desperado--up to a certain point. Savvy, Molly?"

  "Oh, Jed, if I only dared do it!" exclaimed Molly, pale with excitement. How her dark eyes glowed! "But she'll suffer. An'--an' I love her so!"

  "Shore. All the same, if she's got the real stuff in her thet's the way to fetch it out. It's the only way, Molly, to strike thet balance between you an' her which your Uncle meant. If you've got the nerve, girl, an' do your part, you'll never regret it."

  "Jed, you don't mean never to tell Glory you're good instead of bad. I couldn't agree to thet."

  "Wal of course, she's bound to find out sometime thet I'm not so bad, after all. But I'd advise you to put Uncle Jim wise an' keep the secret for a while. Molly, I'll be disappointed in you if you fall down on this chance. I'll bet you young Jim would jump at it."

  "He would--he would," panted Molly. "Jed, Heaven forgive me--I'll do it. I'll trust you an' do my part."

  "Thet's like a girl of the Cibeque," replied Jed, heartily. "Go back now, an' tell her you both have fallen out of the fryin'-pan into the fire."

  Chapter EIGHTEEN

  Stone entered the cabin, as once he had seen the villain in a melodrama. The Traft girl was sitting up, with Molly fluttering around her. He sustained a shock--like wind rushing back through his veins to his heart. It was as if he had not before seen this girl. In all his life such eyes had never before met his. They were large, dark violet, strained with an expression which might have been horror or terror, or fascination. How wondrously lovely. Stone doubted that he could play his part before their gaze.

  "Val, what'd this Dunn kid tell you?" he demanded, with a fierce glare.

  "Oh--sir--she said you--you were Jed Stone, the desperado," faltered the girl, in haste. "That we'd fallen out of the frying-pan into the fire--that you killed those men so you could have us all--to yourself."

  "Correct. An' now what do you think?" queried Stone, studying the girl. She was frightened, and still under the influence of shock, but she was no fool.

  "Think? About--what?"

  "Why, your new owner, of course. Reckon I always was jealous of Croak Malloy--of his gun-play an' his way with wimmen."

  "Mister Stone, when you came in this cabin--when that little beast was tearing my clothes off--I knew you were going to save me from him."

  "Wal, you're the smart girl," he replied, and almost wavered before those searching, imploring eyes. "Shore I was." Then he reached down with a slow hand and clutched the front of her blouse and jerked her to her feet. Holding her to the light, he bent his face closer to her. "You're a beautiful thing, but are you good?"

  "Good?... I think so--I hope so."

  "Wal, you gotta know if I ask you. Are you a good girl?"

  "Yes, sir, if I understand you."

  "Wal, thet's fine. I've shore been hungry fer one of your kind. Molly Dunn there, she's a Western kid, an' a little wildcat thet's not afraid of desperadoes. She comes of the raw West, same as me. She'll furnish game fer me. But you're different. You belong to the class that made me an outlaw. An' I'm gonna take twenty years of shame an' sufferin' out on you... Make you slave for me!... Make you love me! Beat you! Drag you down."

  She sagged under his grasp, without which she would have fallen. Her face could not have been any whiter. "I--I am at your mercy... But, for God's sake if you had the manhood to kill those brutes--can't you have enough to spare us?"

  "If you're gonner flop over an' faint every time I grab you or speak to you this'll be a picnic fer me," he said, disgustedly. "Where's your Traft nerve? Thet brother of yours, young Jim, has shore got nerve. He braced me an' my whole outfit. Come right to us, an' without a gun. I shore liked him. Thet was the day he knocked the stuffin's out of Croak Malloy...
No, Gloriana, you ain't no real Traft."

  That stung red into her marble cheeks and a blaze to her wonderful eyes.

  "I haven't had half a chance," she flashed, as much to herself as to him.

  "You'd never make a go of the West, even if you hadn't had the bad luck to run into Jed Stone," he went on. "You're too stuck up. You think you're too good fer plain Western folks, like Molly there, an' her brother, an' me, an' Curly Prentiss. An' you really ain't good enough. Because here it's what you can do thet counts. Wal, I'll bet you cain't do much. An' I'm shore gonna see. Come hyar!"

  He dragged her across the floor to the fireplace, where Madden had opened packs and spread utensils and supplies.

  "Get down on your knees, you white-faced Easterner," he ordered, forcing her down. "Bake biscuits fer me. If they ain't good I'll beat you. An' fry meat an' boil coffee. Savvy."

  With trembling hands she rolled up her sleeves and began to knead the flour Madden had left in the pan. Stone observed that she was not so helpless and useless as he had supposed. Then he turned to Molly.

  "Wal, my dusky lass, you can amoose me while Gloriana does the housework."

  "I shore won't. Stay away from me!" shouted Molly, bristling like a porcupine. When Stone attempted to lay hold of her person she eluded him, and catching up a pan she flung it with unerring aim. Stone dodged, but it took him on the back of the head with a great clang, and then banged to the floor.

  "You'll pay fer thet, you darned little hussy," he roared, and made at her.

  Then followed a wild chase around the cabin, that to an observer who was not obsessed with fear, as was Gloriana, would have been screamingly funny. As an actor Jed was genuine, but he was as heavy on his feet as an ox, and he had to face the brunt of missiles Molly threw, that never failed to connect with some part of his anatomy. When she hit him on the knee with a heavy fruit-can he let out a bawl of honest protest. Molly finally ran behind the half-partition which projected out from the wall, and here allowed Jed to catch her. The partition was constructed of brush. He tore out a long bough and cracked the wall with it.