Part 23 (2/2)
that outfit of clothes together an' further he adds that I'm under suspicion for aidin' an' abettin', an' that means life with hard labour if I'm caught with the goods--an', Win, you're the goods. Therefore, you'll confer a favour on me by not getting caught, an' incidentally save yourself a hangin'. Once we get into the bad lands we're all to the good, but even then you've got to keep shy of folks. Duck out of sight when you first see any one. Don't have nothin' to say to no one under no circ.u.mstances. If you do chance onto someone where you can't do nothin' else you'll have to lie to 'em. Personal, I don't favour lyin' only as a last resort, an' then in moderation. Of course, down in the bad lands, most of the folks will be on the run like we are, an'
not no more anxious for to hold a caucus than us. You don't have to be so particular there, 'cause likely all they'll do when they run onto you will be to take a shot at you, an' beat it. We've got to lay low in the bad lands about a week or so, an' after that folks will have somethin' else on their mind an' we can slip acrost to the N. P.”
”See here, Tex, this thing has gone far enough.” There was a note of determination in Endicott's voice as he continued: ”I cannot permit you to further jeopardize yourself on my account. You have already neglected your business, incurred no end of hard work, and risked life, limb, and freedom to get me out of a sc.r.a.pe. I fully appreciate that I am already under heavier obligation to you than I can ever repay. But from here on, I am going it alone. Just indicate the general direction of the N. P. and I will find it. I know that you and Bat will see that Miss Marc.u.m reaches the railway in safety, and----”
”Hold on, Win! That oration of yourn ain't got us no h.e.l.l of a ways, an' already it's wandered about four school-sections off the trail. In the first place, it's me an' not you that does the permittin' for this outfit. I've undertook to get you acrost to the N. P. I never started anythin' yet that I ain't finished. Take this bottle of _hooch_ here--I've started her, an' I'll finish her. There's just as much chance I won't take you acrost to the N. P., as that I won't finish that bottle--an' that's d.a.m.n little.
”About neglectin' my business, as you mentioned, that ain't worryin' me none, because the wagon boss specified particular an' onmistakeable that if any of us misguided sons of guns didn't show up on the job the mornin' followin' the dance, we might's well keep on ridin' as far as that outfit was concerned, so it's undoubtable that the cow business is bein' carried on satisfactory durin' my temporary absence.
”Concernin' the general direction of the N. P., I'll enlighten you that if you was to line out straight for Texas, it would be the first railroad you'd cross. But you wouldn't never cross it because interposed between it an' here is a right smart stretch of country which for want of a worse name is called the bad lands. They's some several thousan' square miles in which there's only seven water-holes that a man can drink out of, an' generally speakin' about five of them is dry. There's plenty of water-holes but they're poison. Some is gyp an' some is arsnic. Also these here bad lands ain't laid out on no general plan. The coulees run h.e.l.l-west an' crossways at their littlest end an' wind up in a mud crack. There ain't no trails, an'
the inhabitants is renegades an' horse-thieves which loves their solitude to a murderous extent. If a man ain't acquainted with the country an' the horse-thieves, an' the water-holes, his sojourn would be discouragin' an' short.
”All of which circ.u.mlocutin' brings us to the main point which is that _she_ wouldn't stand for no such proceedin'. As far as I can see that settles the case. The pros an' cons that you an' me could set here an'
chew about, bein' merely incidental, irreverent, an' by way of pa.s.sin'
the time.”
Endicott laughed: ”You are a philosopher, Tex.”
”A cow-hand has got to be.”
”But seriously, I could slip away without her knowing it, then the only thing you could do would be to take her to the railway.”
”Yes. Well, you try that an' you'll find out who's runnin' this outfit. I'll trail out after you an' when I catch you, I'll just naturally knock h.e.l.l out of you, an' that's all there'll be to it. You had the edge on me in the water but you ain't on land. An' now that's settled to the satisfaction of all parties concerned, suppose me an'
you slip over to camp an' cook supper so we can pull out right after sundown.”
The two made their way through the timber to find Alice blowing herself red in the face in a vain effort to coax a blaze out of a few smouldering coals she had sc.r.a.ped from beneath the ashes of the fire.
”Hold on!” cried the Texan, striding toward her, ”I've always maintained that buildin' fires is a he-ch.o.r.e, like swearin', an'
puttin' the baby to sleep. So, if you'll just set to one side a minute while I get this fire a-goin' an' Win fetches some water, you can take holt an' do the cookin' while we-all get the outfit ready for the trail.”
Something in the man's voice caused the girl to regard him sharply, and her eyes s.h.i.+fted for a moment to his companion who stood in the background. There was no flash of recognition in the glance, and Endicott, suppressing a laugh, turned his face away, picked up the water pail, and started toward the creek.
”Who is that man?” asked the girl, a trifle nervously, as he disappeared from view.
”Who, him?” The Texan was shaving slivers from a bull pine stick.
”He's a friend of mine. Win's his name, an' barrin' a few little irregularities of habit, he ain't so bad.” The cowboy burst into mournful song as he collected his shavings and laid them upon the coals:
”It's little Joe, the wrangler, he'll wrangle never more, His days with the _remuda_ they are o'er; 'Twas a year ago last April when he rode into our camp, Just a little Texas stray, and all alo-o-o-n-e.”
Alice leaned toward the man in sudden anger:
”You've been drinking!” she whispered.
Tex glanced at her in surprise: ”That's so,” he said, gravely. ”It's the only way I can get it down.”
She was about to retort when Endicott returned from the creek and placed the water pail beside her.
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