Part 29 (1/2)
”Anyhow, I hed a bunch o' money in on the deal, though I 'll be darned if I know just what's become o' it. Yer see, stranger, Gene hed the inside o' this Injun business, bein' as he 's sorter squaw man--”
”What!” interrupted the other sharply. ”Do you mean he married into one of the tribes?”
”Sorter left-handed--yep; a Cheyenne woman. Little thing like that did n't faze Gene none, if he did have a white wife--a blamed good-looker she was too. She was out here onc't, three years ago, 'bout a week maybe. Course she did n't know nothin' 'bout the squaw, an' the Injuns was all huntin' down in the Wichitas. But as I wus sayin', Gene caught on to this yere Injun war last spring--I reckon ol' Koleta, his Injun father-in-law, likely told him what wus brewin'--he's sorter a war-chief. Anyhow he knew thet h.e.l.l wus to pay, an' so we natch'ally gathered up our long-horns an' drove 'em east whar they would n't be raided. We did n't git all the critters rounded up, as we wus in a hurry, an' they wus scattered some 'cause of a hard winter. So I come back yere to round up the rest o' ther bunch.”
”And brand a few outsiders.”
He grinned.
”Maybe I was n't over-particular, but anyhow I got a thousand head together by the last o' June, an' hit the trail with 'em. Then h.e.l.l sure broke loose. 'Fore we 'd got that bunch o' cattle twenty mile down the Cimarron we wus rounded up by a gang o' Cheyenne Injuns, headed by that ornery Koleta, and every horn of 'em drove off. Thar wa'n't no fight; the d.a.m.n bucks just laughed at us, an' left us sittin'
thar out on the prairie. They hogged hosses an' all.”
He wiped his face, and spat into the fire, while Hamlin sat silent, gun in hand.
”I reckon now as how Le Fevre put ol' Koleta wise to that game, but I was plum innocent then,” he went on regretfully. ”Wall, we,--thar wus four o' us,--hoofed it east till we struck some ranchers on Cow Crick, and got the loan o' some ponies. Then I struck out to locate the main herd. It didn't take me long, stranger, to discover thar wa'n't no herd to locate. But I struck their trail, whar Le Fevre had driven 'em up into Missouri and cashed in fer a pot o' money. Then the d.a.m.n cuss just natch'ally vanished. I plugged 'bout fer two er three months hopin' ter ketch up with him, but I never did. I heerd tell o' him onc't or twice, an' caught on he was travellin' under 'nuther name--some durn French contraction--but thet's as much as I ever did find out. Finally, up in Independence I wus so durn near broke I reckoned I 'd better put what I hed left in a grub stake, an' drift back yere. I figgered thet maybe I could pick up some o' those Injun cattle again, and maybe some mavericks, an' so start 'nuther herd.
Anyhow I could lie low fer a while, believin' Le Fevre wus sure ter come back soon as he thought the coast wus clear. I knew then he an'
Koleta was in cahoots an' he 'd be headin' this way after the stock.
So I come down yere quiet, an' laid fer him to show up.”
”What then?”
”Nuthin' much, till yisterday. I got tergether some cows, herded down river a ways, out o' sight in the bluffs, but hev hed ter keep mighty quiet ter save my hair. Them Cheyennes are sure pisen this year, an'
raisin' Cain. I never see 'em so rambunctious afore. But I hung on yere, hidin' out, cause I didn't hev nowhar else ter go. An'
yisterday, just ahead o' the blizzard, a Kiowa buck drifted in yere.
Slipped down the bluff, an' caught me 'fore ever I saw him. Never laid eyes on the red afore but he wus friendly 'nough, natch'ally mistakin'
me fer one o' Le Fevre's herders. His name wus Black Smoke, an' he could n't talk no English worth mentionin', but we made out to understan' each other in Mex. He wus too darn hungry and tired to talk much anyhow. But I got what I wanted to know out o' him.”
”Well, go on, Hughes; you are making a long story out of it.”
”The rest is short 'nough. It seems he an' ol' Koleta, an' a young Cheyenne buck, had been hangin' 'round across the river from Dodge fer quite a while waitin' fer Le Fevre to pull off some sorter stunt.
Maybe I did n't get just the straight o' it, but anyhow they held up a paymaster, er something like that, fer a big boodle. They expected to do it quiet like, hold the off'cer a day er so out in the desert, an'
then turn him loose to howl. But them plans did n't just exactly work.
The fellow's daughter was with him, when the pinch was made, an' they hed to take her 'long too. Then the officer man got ugly, an' had to be shot, an' Le Fevre quarrelled with the other white man in the outfit, an' killed him. That left the gal on their hands, an' them all in a h.e.l.l of a fix if they wus ever caught. The young Injuns wanted to kill the gal too, an' shet her mouth, but somehow Le Fevre an' Koleta would n't hear to it--said she 'd be worth more alive than dead, an'
that they could hide her whar she 'd never be heard of ag'in unless her friends put up money to buy her back.”
Hamlin was leaning forward, watching the speaker intently, and it seemed to him his heart had stopped beating. This story had the semblance of truth; it _was_ the truth. So Dupont and Le Fevre were one and the same. He could believe this now, could perceive the resemblance, although the man had grown older, taken on flesh, and disguised himself wonderfully by growing that black beard. Yet, at the moment, he scarcely considered the man at all; his whole interest concentrated on the fate of the unfortunate girl.
”Where were they taking her, Hughes--do you know?”
”Wa'n't but one place fer 'em to take her--the Cheyennes hev got winter camp down yonder on the Canadian--Black Kettle's outfit. Onc't thar, all h.e.l.l could n't pry her loose.”
”And Le Fevre dared go there? Among those hostiles?”
”Him!” Hughes laughed scornfully. ”Why, he's hand in glove with the whole bunch. He's raided with 'em, decked out in feathers an'
war-paint.”