Part 46 (1/2)

Olaf, of course, sided with the Friar, Horace sided with me, and we had a purty heated discussion. The Friar argued that he had the most at stake and had a right to select the plan with the least risk. I argued that Promotheus had the most at stake, and we had no right to take risk into account. We got purty excited, I usin' the word coward freely, while the Friar stuck to the word folly and kept cooler 'n I did. He finally won 'em over to a compromise. We were to go down close and keep watch durin' the night; but not to make a rush until we saw Promotheus actually in instant danger.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

OLAF RUNS THE BLOCKADE

Ty Jones had been as wise as a fox when he located his ranch house. It sat on high ground, while back of it rose a cliff; so 'at the only way you could get to it without ropes from the back, was through the little ravine. The cliffs circled around to the crick on both sides, and the crick was so full o' rocks that the' was only two places a hoss could cross. He had strung barb wire through the cottonwoods in a regular tangle along the crick, and the only places he had to watch in case of an attack, were the ravine and these two fords. He could see for miles in all directions by goin' to the head o' the ravine; and you could hardly pick out a purtier place for a last-stand 'n the one he had selected.

The new cabin for the woman was right in front o' the mouth o' the ravine, the old cabin a hundred yards or so farther on, the cook-house and the c.h.i.n.k's quarters to the north o' this, the mess-hall for the men to the east of this, the barn, wagon-sheds, workshop, and so on, some distance to the south, and the bunk-shack a little to the north of the stables. He had several corrals back o' the barn and a pasture of about thirty acres shut in by a wire fence.

After I had cooled off a little, I saw that the Friar was right. The thing we couldn't tell was, just how much they had forced Promotheus to confess. If they had simply got Ty jealous that he was tryin' to get the woman away, we might make it all the worse by chargin' down on 'em; while on the other hand he might have told where we were, and Ty might take it into his head to try to get us all. This last would have been the finest thing 'at could happen to us; but the' was no way to tell; so after eatin' supper, we went down to the edge o' the cliff to see what we could see.

We were most of us surprised to see how far the cabin stood from the cliff. In lookin' down from our look-out, we had failed to take the slope into account so it had looked as though we had been able to see the woman the minute she had come out o' the mouth of the ravine, while the fact was the cabin stood several hundred feet from the mouth. If it hadn't been for the confounded dogs, we could have gone down and found out what we wanted to know. We made some remarks about those dogs which would have seared their hair off if they'd 'a' been a little closer.

The light was kept in the mess-hall long after time to finish eatin'; and we guessed they were tryin' Promotheus, right while we were lookin' on from above. All of a sudden, Olaf struck his palm with his fist, and exclaimed: ”What a fool I have been! Those dogs remembered Promotheus, and he never patted 'em. I have patted 'em and spoke soothin' words to 'em, and they would know me. I shall go down and listen.”

Now this was a n.o.ble thought and we hadn't a word to say again' it; so Olaf went back to camp, shed his boots and put on moccasins. Slim was a good shot with a rifle, so he staid with Horace, who had an elephant gun and a yearnin' to use it, up on the cliff above the mouth o' the ravine. They had seven rifles of one kind and another, and they thought they could make a disturbance if Olaf started anything. The rest of us went down the ravine to the last curve. We tried to get the Friar to stay behind; but his blood was up, and he wouldn't heed us.

We had it made up to rope and tie him hand and foot, when we were finally ready to wind things up with Ty Jones.

Olaf left us with his big, hard face set into rigid lines. He had a long score to settle with Ty Jones, and he had made a funny gruntin'

hum in his throat every few steps as we had walked down the ravine. We waited what seemed weeks; but the' was no uproar, and finally, he came out o' the gloom, and spoke to us in a whisper. We went back with him to the top o' the path before he told us what he had heard.

He said they were tryin' to make Promotheus confess who was back of him; but that Promotheus had steadily refused. He said 'at Ty had told him over and over that if he would tell him where he could lay hands on either the Friar or d.i.n.ky Bradford, he would give him a month to get out o' the country himself; but Promotheus had stood firm, and they had shut him up in the workshop again, tellin' him he would get nothin' but water until he did confess.

This made us some easier in our minds. Promotheus had acted so worn out and done up since his return, that he had fooled Ty; and Ty looked upon him as a broke-down man, and nothin' but a tool in the hands of some stronger men. Olaf said 'at Ty acted as though he thought the Friar had sent in a report to the government, and had got Bradford to come out here the time that Promotheus had disappeared; and in some way they had got word o' Horace comin' through Bosco this last time.

Dixon had told about seein' us at Skelty's, and a strange feller told about bein' shot at, the night Olaf's cabin had been fired. They bunched all this together, and decided 'at the best thing to do was to trade Promotheus for Horace or the Friar, if it could be done. I had a chuckle all to myself, when I pictured Horace as he had been when I took him in hand, and now with the reputation he hadn't quite earned, bein' a worry to the Ty Jones outfit.

”I allus said they were cowards,” sez Horace, as soon as Olaf had finished his tale. ”A man's got an imagination, and as soon as he starts to live like a wolf, this imagination fills the world with watchdogs. Ty Jones never has fought in the open, and we'll have no trouble with him as soon as we once get him on the run.”

”Ty Jones has no fear,” sez Olaf. ”I know; I have seen with my own eyes. He is too clever to be trapped; but he has no fear.”

”Well, wait and see,” sez Horace.

Me and Tank kept watch on the cliff until mornin' and then as nothin'

had happened, we went up to camp, and Slim and Dutch took watch at our regular look-out. As we sat down to breakfast, we noticed 'at the Friar was gone. Several spoke of him havin' been restless the night before and not turnin' in when the rest did. The Friar allus was unregular in his habits, especially at night; so we didn't pay much heed to him when he wrote by the fire, or went off by himself in the quiet starlight, to sing some o' the pressure off his heart; but at such a time as this, we antic.i.p.ated him to be as circ.u.mspect as possible.

We started to hunt him up, but it didn't take long. Horace found a note pinned to the Friar's tarp, and the note told us that he had thought it all over careful durin' the night, and had decided that his duty compelled him to go down and offer himself in exchange for Promotheus. He said that when things came to such a tangle that no human ingenuity could unmix 'em, it was time to put trust in a higher power; that it was for him that Promotheus had risked his life, and that he felt he must take his place, as Ty had promised to let Promotheus go if he would betray him. He said that he could not see any way to help the woman, and that if he lost his life, for us not to think of revenge, as it would all turn out for the best in some mysterious way. The Friar had gone through a lot durin' the last few years, and it had finally undermined his patience. I knew just how he felt: he wanted something to happen which would end his suspense, and he didn't care much what it was.

As soon as Horace had finished readin'; we all sat around in complete silence, gawkin' at each other. ”Things has finally come to a head,”

sez Spider Kelley, solemnly.

”There now, that's the Christian religion!” exclaimed Horace. ”The Christian religion is founded on self-sacrifice and martyrdom, and all those who get it bad enough spend the bulk o' their time on the lookout to be martyrs and sacrifice theirselves for something-and they don't care much what for. Look at the crusades-the flower o'

Europe was lured into the desert and dumped there like worn-out junk, even children were offered up in this sacrifice. Nothing but sentimentality, rank sentimentality. Now, when the ancient Greeks-”

”The thing for us, is to decide on what we're to do next, not what the ancient Greeks did a few thousand years before we were born,” sez I.

”There is no use hidin' any longer. The strongest card we have up our sleeve is the fake reputation of d.i.n.ky Bradford, and what we must do is to make up the best plan to play it.”

”Why do you say fake reputation?” demanded Horace.