Silvertip's Strike (19 page)

“Yeah?” said Delgas. “I dunno.”

The door jerked open so rapidly that the gesture was almost too fast for Jim Silver, even. He had barely time to snatch out a revolver as the door pulled wide and Delgas stood scowling on the threshold.

Silver beat the heavy butt of a revolver into the center of that scowl. As Delgas fell senseless on his back, Silver stepped over the body and took the remaining pair under the muzzles of his guns.

Rutherford's first gesture was a flick of the fingers that nearly touched the handles of his gun beneath his coat. But his thought was faster still. It saw that he was well-covered, and his second thought brought the hand away again. He sat leaning forward a little in his chair, looking not at the leveled Colt but into the steady, gleaming eyes of Silver. They were worth seeing. A changing yellow light glowed and sank and rose again in them.

Big Waring had got his hand as far as the gun on his hip, and there his grasp froze.

It was strange that a face could change so suddenly. All his jowls and the hanging flap of the flesh beneath his chin were struck stone-white, and all about his mouth was white, too. His upper lip began to work. And his great red nose stood out like a thing painted with blood, and his eyes were as bright as the eyes of a hawk. One could tell by the look of them that the spirit in the man was greater than any professions he made of courage. Whatever his faults were, he was a fighting machine.

“Here we are again,” said Silver.

He kicked the door shut behind him.

“Stand up and come over here, Danny,” he commanded.

Farrel rose. He was shaking from head to foot. He was the only man in the room who seemed close to a break-down.

“Don't get between me and either of them,” said Silver.

Farrel edged around the wall as though a great fire were blazing in the center of the room. He had to take short steps because of the rope that was fastened about his knees. His hands were tied behind his back.

“You two,” said Silver, “turn and face the wall.”

He added: “Hoist your hands, first. And see that the hand you lift from that hip is empty, Waring. I'm watching you a little harder than I'm watching Rutherford, in case you're in doubt about it.”

Starting to turn, Waring and Rutherford looked at one another. They paused and seemed to consult with glances. Then they kept on turning until they were facing the wall. They lifted their hands high above their heads and stood rigid. The tail of Waring's coat was hitched up almost to the small of his back, and his big-handled revolver showed.

Silver said: “I'm going to shift one gun into my pocket and keep you fellows covered with the right-hand gun only. If you want to try a sudden break, that'll be your opportunity.”

He slipped one gun down between his legs, as he spoke. A shudder went through the body of Waring. Rutherford, who seemed to read the mind of his companion, barked suddenly:

“Don't be a fool, Waring. You'll get the pair of us killed out of hand, the first thing you know.”

So Waring stood fast, but the noise of his heavy breathing was loud through the room.

Silver took out a knife, pressed the spring that made the blade fly out, and, without taking his eyes from his double target, found the ropes that tied the hands of Dan Farrel.

When Farrel was free, he snatched the knife from Silver, cut the tie rope that bound his knees together, and leaned over Delgas.

“This fellow first, Jim?” he asked.

“Take him first,” agreed Silver.

He gave one glance downward to the bleeding face of Delgas. It sagged as though the blow on the forehead had smashed all the other bones of the countenance so that the features were as soft as putty.

Farrel threw the man's coat open and took away the guns from the holsters beneath the pits of the arms. He took a bit of the rope which had been used on him and trussed Delgas hand and foot. The fallen man was coming to. He breathed like one out of breath after being in water, making a heavy puffing sound.

Still his eyes were not open when Farrel left him and went across the room to the other pair. They had not stirred. Only, as the shadow of Farrel swept across the wall, Waring said half aloud:

“Somebody gets it, for this.”

His big, fat body was still quivering. His pretended humility left him. He was the fighting beast pure and simple, overlaid with certain layers of blubber.

Farrel got the guns, and from Waring a long, straight-bladed knife that could apparently be used for throwing as well as for handwork.

After that, he procured more rope and made the two fast. He had finished that task and armed himself with a pair of guns when the voice of Red came down the hallway, softly singing. His hand fell with a respectful knock at the door.

“Come!” called Silver.

The door opened, with the voice of Red coming cheerfully through the gap before the way was clear to his eyes.

“The herds are coming up,” he said, “and we're ready to start running 'em at the — ”

He had the door open by this time. He could see his three leaders helplessly tied, and the guns of Silver were hardly a yard from his breast. He put out his head in a queer way, like a rooster stretching his neck before crowing. Then he began to hoist his hands. They were level with his shoulders before Silver said:

“You see the lay of the land, brother?”

Red nodded convulsively.

And he whispered immediately afterward, under his breath: “I had the hunch right from the start. I had the hunch that I wouldn't be able to push the thing through. I knew from the start that the crooks would go down — fool that I am!”

“Jim, don't do him any harm,” said Danny Farrel.

He moved up a hand toward his own bruised face.

“Except for Red, I'd have every bone in my body broken,” said Farrel. “I'd be dead by this time, I guess, or worse than dead, if Delgas had had his way with me, but Red stood in between.”

“Did he?” asked Silver.

His cold eye ran slowly over the body and then over the face, over the frightened, staring soul of the cow-puncher.

“Talk up for yourself, Red,” said Silver. “Any reason why you shouldn't go where the other three are going?”

Red started to speak, thought better of it, locked his jaws. He thrust out his head still farther and looked Silver suddenly in the eyes.

“You go to the devil,” said Red.

At that, Silver laughed.

“Not going to make any excuses, Red?” he asked.

The thick shoulders of the cow-puncher shrugged.

“Well,” said Silver, “I'll tell you what. You just ease yourself outside the door and go tell the other boys that the game's up. We've got the three of 'em. We've got them, but if the rest of the boys want to take their horses and high-tail out of these diggings, nobody will stop 'em. Understand?”

Red nodded.

“Get out!” commanded Silver.

Red hesitated one longer moment. Then he backed through the door with his hands still held high. He kept on backing till the dark of the hall was about to swallow him, and Silver slammed and locked the door in his face.

He turned and sat down.

Delgas woke up with a start and began to babble: “Come on, boys! Come on! Down with 'em!”

“Oh, shut up,” said Rutherford. “Don't you know you're licked with the rest of us?”

Delgas sat up, and started at Silver.

“It's no good,” he said. “You done some mind reading, Harry — and Silver
was
in the house all the time.”

“Sure he was in the house,” snarled Rutherford.

Waring sank his big chin on his chest and stared down at the table. His rage had not grown less. When his eyes stirred, they showed smoking fire.

“Beaten,” he said, “like three curs.”

“It looks to me as though we can send you fellows up for close to life,” Silver said. “Cattle rustling doesn't go down very well in this state.”

Rutherford was staring at Silver in silence. His eyes could not move from the face of the big man.

But Delgas said: “We'll find our way out of that.”

“It looks to me,” said Silver, “that we can make some sort of an agreement out of this thing.”

He was interrupted by a sudden outburst of yelling from the men beyond the house. Some one fired three shots through the outer wall of the rooms and roared:

“Rutherford! Rutherford! Speak up and let's know the truth about it!”

“Hello!” called Rutherford calmly. “That you, Lefty?”

“It's me, and what — ”

“Shut up,” said Rutherford. Lefty was still.

“I'm tied hand and foot,” said Rutherford. He took out the words one by one, like a showman exhibiting his wares. The deliberation with which he spoke was apparently a sign of the exquisite agony of shame which he was enduring. He could not grow paler, because his face was normally as pale as a bone, but his mouth kept working slightly at the corners.

“You're tied hand and foot?” howled Lefty. “Where's Delgas then? Is what Red tells us the straight of it?”

“Red tells you the straight,” said Rutherford.

A torrent of cursing came from Lefty, who finished: “What's happened?”

“I've been a fool,” said Rutherford. “I've been handled like a baby. There's nothing I can do. You boys take care of yourselves, because Jim Silver has won once more!”

Lefty departed. He bade no farewell, but his going was announced by the diminishing volume of his voice as he went off, cursing at every step. A moment later, with a wild whooping, the whole body of the cow-punchers started to circle the house, and the louder they yelled, the faster they fired their revolvers into the building.

Nearly every one of the bullets ranged through the house from side to side. One struck the table and split it clear across. Another peeled a great splinter off the floor, slapping it up against the wall. Another smashed the knob of the door, striking out a chime as if from a bell. Still another slug took the hat off Waring's head.

Danny Farrel shrank into a corner. It was notable that not one of the other four so much as stirred in his place. Silver occupied himself, during the uproar, with making a cigarette for Delgas. He put it between the lips of Delgas and lighted it. Delgas nodded his thanks as the horde of cow-punchers and ex-convicts ran yelling off across the desert.

“All right,” said Silver, “we can talk business now. The boys have gone. Waring, I suppose you're the most poisonous of the gang. We'll take enough of your money to pay for as many steers of mine as are missing, but I don't think we'll take your scalp. Rutherford, you and Delgas have one easy way out. You've tried to do more harm, here, than you've managed to wangle, but — ”

A door slammed. The steps and the voice of the girl rapidly approached the room.

Silver's nerves for the first time showed that they were ragged. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“Go and stop that noise!” he commanded Farrel.

Dan Farrel left the room. As he opened the door, Silver could hear the girl crying out in a frenzied panic.

The door shut, and Silver sighed with relief. He found that Waring was looking at him with a queer, twisted smile.

“You don't like the females, Silver, eh?” he asked. “Maybe not,” answered Silver.

“That's a weakness,” said Waring. “And I'm glad to know that you've got one. But, believe me, brother, the bigger you are and the longer you take, the harder you'll fall for 'em, one of these days. Go on and talk your business. I've lost a lot on this job, and I'm going to call myself lucky to get out without losing more blood than dollars.”

The end of the thing was in sight. Silver was quick about it. He merely said: “Delgas, you and Rutherford got in on this thing for nothing. It was Steve Wycombe's idea to hook the three of us. Well, you almost snagged me, and just slipped up.”

“Where were you?” said Delgas.

“Hanging onto the rods under the girl's bed,” said Silver, and smiled on them.

They heard in silence. Rutherford swayed his pale face from side to side.

“Yeah,” said Delgas. “All the big things come easy.”

“Now, then,” said Silver, “I've plenty of stuff on you, out of this deal. I can have you sent up. But I'm giving you a break.”

“Show me the break, and then I'll believe it,” answered Delgas.”

“Listen and learn,” said Silver calmly. “Delgas, all you need to do is to sign a little paper that I'll draw up for you. That paper deeds your share of the ranch to Danny Farrel. Understand?”

“Hey,” said Delgas, “why should I deed my share to that bum.
He
ain't the one that handed me the rap! Deed it to you, you mean?”

“To Farrel,” said Silver. “Except for him, the job would never have gone through.”

He himself sat down at the table and took pen and paper. Rapidly he wrote, in a hand strangely small and swiftly flowing. When he had ended, he passed the paper to Delgas.

“How does that sound to you?” Silver asked.

“Yeah, I'll sign,” said Delgas. “Same for Harry?”

“Ask him,” said Silver.

“Same for you, Harry?” asked Delgas.

Rutherford merely smiled. “The big hombre knows me better than I thought,” he declared.

“What's that mean?” asked Delgas. “Have I gone and missed anything? I won't sign, then. I ain't signed it yet, anyway.”

“You'll sign, you flat-faced fool!” said Rutherford. “I mean, the big boy knows what's in my mind. I don't take anything but lead from him.”

Silver opened the door and called. Danny Farrel answered at once with a joyous voice, and the girl's cry of triumph joined with the sound.

“Danny,” Silver said, “get a pair of horses. Put Esther on one of 'em, and clear out. Don't come back to this place before morning. Stay five mile away from it, unless you want to take a chance on your hide. Get out fast.”