Part 23 (1/2)
”Of all the pals that ever a man had,” he said sadly, ”there never was a partner like Whistlin' Dan. There was never another gent that would go through h.e.l.l for you jest because you'd eaten meat with him. The first time I met him I tried to double-cross him, because I had my orders from Silent. And Dan played clean with me--by G.o.d, he shook hands with me when he left.”
He straightened a little.
”So help me G.o.d, Lee, I've never done a crooked thing more since I shook hands with Dan that day.” He sat silent, but breathing hard. ”Well, this is the end of Whistlin' Dan. The law will never let up on him now; but I tell you, Haines, I'm sick inside and I'd give my right hand plumb to the wrist to set him straight and bring him back to Kate. Go in and tell her, Lee. I--I'll wait for you here.”
”You'll be d.a.m.ned,” cried Haines. ”I've done my share by bringing the word this far. You can relay it.”
Buck Daniels produced a silver dollar.
”Heads or tails?”
”Heads!” said Haines.
The dollar spun upwards, winking, and clanked on the rocks, tails up.
Haines stared at it with a grisly face.
”Good G.o.d,” he muttered, ”what'll I do, Buck, if she faints?”
”Faints?” echoed Daniels, ”there's no fear of that! The first thing you'll have to do is to saddle her horse.”
”Now, what in h.e.l.l are you driving at?”
”She'll be thinkin' of Joan. G.o.d knows she worried enough because Dan hasn't brought the kid back before this, but when she hears what he's done now, she'll know that he's wild for keeps and she'll be on the trail to bring the young'un home.”
He turned his back cleanly on the house and set his shoulders tense.
”Go on, Lee. Be a man.”
He heard the steps of Haines start briskly enough for the house, but they trailed away, slowly and more slowly, and finally there was a long pause.
”He's standing at the door,” muttered Buck. ”Thank G.o.d I ain't in his boots.”
He jerked out his papers and tobacco, but in the very act of twisting the cigarette tight the door slammed and he ripped the flimsy thing in two. He started to take another paper, but his fingers were so unsteady that he could not pull away the single sheet of tissue which he wanted.
Then his hands froze in place.
A faint tapping came out to him.
”He--he's rapping on her door,” whispered Buck, and remained fixed in place, his eyes staring straight before him.
The seconds slipped away.
”He's turned yaller,” murmured Buck. ”He couldn't do it. It'll be up to me!”
But he had hardly spoken the words when a low cry came out to him from the house. Then the silence again, but Buck Daniels began to mop his forehead.
After that, once, twice, and again he made the effort to turn towards the house, but when he finally succeeded it was whole minutes later, and Lee Haines was leading a saddled horse from the coral. Kate stood beside the cabin, waiting.
When he reached her, she was already mounted. He halted beside her, panting, his hand on her bridle.