Part 38 (1/2)
”About a dozen.”
”Bear Claw will wipe him out, then,” grinned Al Arnold.
”Somehow I don't think so,” said Garvey. ”And if that stage deal fails us----”
”A twenty-thousand-dollar job!” Shank barked angrily. ”And we get half!”
”We get all,” chuckled Garvey. ”The Apaches will give their share to me for fire water. That's why this must go through. If Bear Claw and his braves slip up, we'll have to finish it. As for Kid Wolf----”
Garvey's expression changed to one of malignant fury, and he made the significant gesture of cutting a throat.
”I hear that this Kid Wolf makes it his business to right wrongs,”
Shank sneered. ”Thinks he's a law of himself. Justice, he calls it.”
”Well, one thing!” roared Garvey, thumping the bar. ”There ain't no law west o' the Pecos! And he's west o' the Pecos now! The only law here is this kind,” and he tapped his .44.
”What's happened to yore gun?” one of them asked.
Garvey's face suddenly went dark red.
”I dropped it this mornin' and busted the handle,” he lied. ”If it had been in workin' order, I'd have got this Kid Wolf the minute he opened his mouth.”
”Well, if the Apaches don't get him, we will,” Stephenson declared.
”By the way, Garvey, there's another deal on foot. What do yuh think o' this?” And he laid a chunk of ore on the bar under the saloon keeper's nose.
”Solid silver!” Garvey gasped. ”Where's it from?”
”From the valley of the San Simon. It's from land owned--owned, mind yuh--by an hombre named Robbins. Gov'ment grant.”
”We'll figger a way to get it,” returned Garvey, then his eyes narrowed. ”What name did yuh say?”
”Robbins. Bill Robbins.”
Garvey grinned. ”Why, he was on the stage! It was his kid that came here and made his play fer help. Looks like things is comin' our way, after all.”
The conference was interrupted by the sound of galloping hoofs. An Indian pounded up in front of the saloon in a cloud of yellow dust.
The pony was lathered and breathing hard.
”It's a scout!” Garvey cried. ”Let him in, and we'll see what he has to say.”
The Indian runner's words, gasped in halting, broken English, brought consternation to Garvey and his treacherous gunmen:
”No get money box. Have keel two-three, maybe more, of white men in stage wagon. Then riders come. White chief on white devil horse, he break Bear Claw's neck. Bear Claw die. We ride away as fast as could do. White men fix stage wagon. Hunt for horse to drive it to Lost Springs.”
Garvey clenched his huge fists.
”Get me another gun!” he rasped. ”We'll have this out with Kid Wolf right now!”
Charley Hood spoke for the first time, and his b.e.s.t.i.a.l face with distorted with rage.