The Lone Ranger and Tonto (8 page)

"I didn't think about you at all. I told you I'd been busy. Why you thick-skulled half-wit, you'd have settled for a tenth of what you've had so far, if I hadn't showed you the way to cash in on what you had!"

"You didn't show me anything because yuh liked me. Yuh showed me the way tuh cash in in a big way, because by doin' so you could take a big slice of what I got. But even then you weren't satisfied. Yuh tried tuh win my share with yer crooked poker."

"I told you I'd give you some cash. I'll do the best I can with you." The Lone Ranger noticed the change that came over the gambler's face when he said this. It looked as if he'd had a sudden inspiration, an idea that might be turned to good use.

Higgy's grin vanished and a scowl replaced it. "Just what d'you mean by doin' the best yuh
can
with me? That sounds a heap like you didn't figger on splittin' even with me."

"Haven't you heard about the excitement in town?"

Higgy shook his head.

"You must have noticed that there was a lot of activity around here for this time of night."

"Didn't notice nothin'. You tell me what yuh meant by yer remark."

"A masked man came into town and broke Dave Walters out of the jail!"

Higgy showed genuine surprise. "Is that so? Who's the masked man?"

"No one knows," replied the gambler regaining his composure when he saw that Higgy's curiosity and interest had been aroused. "There were robberies as well," he finished.

"Robberies, eh? An' who was robbed?"

"I myself was one of the victims."

"You? No, don't try tuh tell me that yuh lost anything that was rightfully
mine
!"

"I'll tell you the whole story," said Delaney. "This masked man came and took Dave out of jail before the men could get to lynching him. The Sheriff and a lot of other men went out to hunt them. While they were out, and they're still out hunting, the masked man returned to Snake River and robbed John Langford and then he robbed me."

"Now wasn't that right convenient," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "He robbed Langford, so Langford can't pay out any more, an' then he robbed you, so you couldn't pay up what you owe me. It looks like
I'm
the one that this masked stranger has hit the hardest." He drew back the hammer of his .44 with a sharp click. "At least," he said, his voice becoming menacing, "it would look so if I was to believe this lie you told me."

"Lie? It's no lie! You can ask anyone in town!" Higgy dropped the silky manner of speaking and his voice was hard and cold. "I say it's lies. Delaney, you're a smooth talker and a smoother liar. That's how you made a success at gamblin'! You let yer face lie for yuh when yer tongue didn't need tuh, but now yer bein' called. I don't believe a word yuh say." Higgy advanced closer while Delaney gave ground and backed against the dresser. The gambler saw resolution in Higgy's face and raised his hand to protest. But Higgy came close, jabbing his gun hard against the gambler's chest. "Where," he demanded, "is the cash you owe me! Give it to me, or I'll let yuh have hot lead!"

The Lone Ranger held his gun in readiness. There were now two men he wanted to confront with a demand for what they knew about Dave Walters. He still desired a conference with Steve Delaney, and he wanted desperately to talk to this man called Higgy. When Higgy jammed his .44 into the chest of the gambler, threatening to fire at any instant, Delaney lost his composure. Panic showed in his face, and that panic might make him snatch for the small gun on his dresser and risk a shot at his caller.

This might result in death for one or both of the men inside. The Lone Ranger had already heard many things as he crouched at the window, and he hoped to hear something that would shed light on the Dave Walters's situation. He did not want to intervene in the discussion unless it became absolutely necessary. He was fully aware of the risk in waiting. His keen eyes, staring from behind his mask, watched Higgy's trigger finger. If that finger started to tighten, or if Steve Delaney gave the slightest indication that he would make an attempt to grab his gun, the masked man would have to fire. Moreover, he would have to fire with deadly accuracy; fire through the window glass, and blast away the gun of one or both the adversaries.

But Steve Delaney had not attained his present position of prominence in the community through being cowardly or careless. He made his living by gambling, but he had the law of averages in his favor. He was not a man to gamble on the short end, and that is precisely what he would do if he tried to grab his gun. As he saw that Higgy did not intend to fire at the moment, he spoke again. His voice sounded very convincing, perhaps because a part of what he said was really true. His cool poise, when he regained it, did more than anything he might have said to convince Higgy that it might be well to listen.

"I'm sorry, Higgy," said the gambler, "if shooting me is worth the risk, and if it will give you any satisfaction, you'll just simply have to shoot. I can't stop you." The gambler casually drew a cigar from a pocket of his vest and lighted it. He tilted his head to blow a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. Higgy appeared uncertain as to what he should do next.

"If you'll stand back a little," the gambler continued, "I'll proceed with what I was about to do when you came in so suddenly." Higgy stepped back a pace and watched the tall man as he removed his coat and vest and hung them on hooks with meticulous care. This utter disregard for weapons was one of Delaney's many tricks. His contempt for aggressors had many times been of great help in taking him through situations of this sort.

"Now, look here, Delaney," Higgy said, "I'm flat broke."

"I'm sorry."

Higgy took a more pleading manner. "If you could just give me a little somethin' on account. Just a few dollars or so, it would help out. You could pay the rest when you got it."

Delaney said, "Not a dime. I'm just as broke as you are."

Higgy began to speak but Delaney stopped him. "I don't care to hear any more arguments from you, Higgy. I resent the way you came in here and the way you threatened me. If you'd been halfway decent, I might have borrowed a little cash and given it to you, but you've called me a liar several times and threatened me. I admit my debt to you, and you'll get the cash when I can pay it."

Higgy showed signs of having an idea. "Look here," he began, "can't yuh get some cash from the barroom? I understand you own this place."

"Perhaps I can tomorrow, but I can't go out there now and take it, because it would raise a lot of questions. Not many people are aware of the fact that I'm the owner and I'd just as soon they didn't find it out."

"Maybe they'll find this masked man an' the cash," suggested Higgy hopefully.

"Perhaps they will. He can't be far away. You get a room at the hotel, you won't have to pay for it until you leave. I'll have a little cash for you in the morning, and perhaps by that time the masked man will be found. Keep out of sight, though, until I send for you." Delaney dropped his cigar to a dish on the dresser and ground it out in a way that suggested that so far as he was concerned the entire matter was settled.

"Now look, Steve," Higgy said with an apologetic manner. "I don't want no bad feelins with you. I thought at first you was tryin' to put somethin' over on me, but now I know that ain't the case. I didn't know about this robbery."

"All right," snapped Steve. "But keep out of sight and after you leave here, stay away from Snake Corners. As long as we are in this scheme together, you've got to do what I tell you."

"Sure, sure thing Steve. I will, I promise."

"By the way," said Steve, "where is the letter now? You didn't bring it with you, did you?"

"Gosh no, that'd be too risky. If I lost that letter, we wouldn't have a thing left."

"Where is it now?"

"It's in a safe place," replied Higgy, "an' it's stayin' there!" He turned toward the door. "I'll be at the hotel when yuh got some cash fer me," he said and left the room.

Letter
? thought the Lone Ranger. Could that be the letter that Dave had mentioned? The letter to his father, in which he confessed his crime in New Orleans? The masked man watched Higgy as he drew away from the house and headed toward the hotel in a waddling sort of walk.

After the short, broad-shouldered man left his rooms, Steve Delaney smiled in satisfaction. He moved to the window and closed the curtain that was draped from one side. Then he fastened a shade to the chimney of the lamp so that most of the light was directed to the floor. Anyone passing the rear of his place now would think the room was in darkness.

The gambler crouched to the floor near the foot of the bed, taking a long-bladed knife from a hip pocket. Opening this, he inserted the keen blade into a crack between the floor boards and followed the crack along until he reached a place where two boards butted end to end. A little pressure brought a section of the floor up far enough for him to grip in his long, lean fingers and remove it.

An opening was revealed, an opening about four inches wide and two feet long. Reaching down as far as his elbow, Delaney brought up a calfskin bag. He tugged at a drawstring and then spilled the contents of the bag on the floor beside the opening. A million lights danced from the collection of jewels that lay there. Diamond earrings, rings, a necklace, and brooches studded with precious and semi-precious stones gleamed in the dim lamplight. Some of the jewelry was valuable because of the stones it contained, but there was also a large assortment of old gold ornaments and gewgaws such as any woman would delight in owning.

Delaney ran his index finger through the treasures, gloating in his possession of them. Satisfying himself with a lingering study of the collection, he rose and took his coat from the hook. From a side pocket, he extracted a pendant. He studied this for a moment, holding it close to the lamp. Eyes agleam he whispered, "Beautiful! I'll not split any part of this with that stupid ape. These jewels could never be appreciated by a man like Higgy. Let him be satisfied with cash, I'll keep the jewels."

He turned away from the lamp, intending to add the pendant to the rest of the assortment which had come from the home of old John Langford but he suddenly froze in his tracks. A calm, deep voice addressed him from the doorway. "A move," the speaker said, "and I will shoot."

Delaney whirled and saw the tall form of the Lone Ranger. He saw the mask, and then a brace of heavy guns held in a far different manner than Higgy had held his weapon.

"It looks," said the newcomer, "as if I have interrupted something."

Steve Delaney tried to speak, but for once in his life found himself at a loss for words. This man had a vastly different manner than Higgy. He had the same sort of coolness that Delaney had. The eyes that studied him from behind the mask, steely eyes, showed that there would be no compromise, that this stranger would not be bluffed into leaving as Higgy had been. The pendant dangled from the gambler's nervous fingers.

The masked man jammed one gun in leather and then closed the door. "I heard a great deal," he said "before I came in. Now I'm here for the showdown."

Delaney looked like a fox that has been treed by dogs. He was completely on the defensive though he tried to feel otherwise. "You won't live till daylight," he snarled at the masked man. "The whole town's hunting you. If you're smart, you'll take what time you have to get away as far as you can."

"You're nervous, Delaney, your hand is trembling. Perhaps you'd better put the pendant with the rest of the jewelry." He stepped forward. "I'll do it for you," he said, taking the bauble from the gambler's hand and tossing it atop the pile on the floor. "Now sit down."

Steve Delaney obeyed the command.

"All right," he said, "you've got the drop on me. I suppose you want to take that stuff on the floor along with you?"

"I want to talk to you first."

"About what?"

"I want to know who killed Mrs. Prindle!"

Delaney didn't show any sign of surprise at the statement, but he did wait several seconds before making a reply. "What makes you think Dave Walters didn't kill her?"

"You know as well as I do that Walters hadn't any hand in the murder. You're the one who described him to the Sheriff and brought about his arrest as soon as he arrived in Snake River. I want to know just exactly why you did that."

Again the gambler paused. "I told the law," he said "that I'd seen Walters in the vicinity of Mrs. Prindle's home. He was picked up by the Sheriff on suspicion. Cash was found in his pocket and that's all there is to it."

"You're wrong," contradicted the Lone Ranger. "That's not all there is to it, by any means. There's the matter of lynching, which was suggested by you. There's the meeting you had with John Langford tonight. He gave you something, which you carried away from his home, and then as soon as you'd left he started shooting his pistols and yelling that he'd been robbed."

The Lone Ranger advanced closer to Steve Delaney and with one hand grasped the gambler's shirt. "I want," he said in a voice that rang with determination, "to have a full accounting for all those things. Why did Langford lie about the robbery? Why did you want Dave Walters lynched before he had a chance to be tried? Why?"

"I've got nothing to say," retorted the gambler. "So what are you going to do about it?"

The Lone Ranger jerked Delaney from the chair.

"You'll tell me what I want to know, or take the consequences! I promise you, Delaney, you'll not
like
those consequences!"

"I'll take that chance."

The Lone Ranger found himself in a peculiar situation. It was against his code to use any of the familiar means of making an unwilling man talk. Even though Dave Walters's life depended on what the gambler might reveal, the masked man found himself incapable of resorting to physical torture. As the seconds passed, Delaney sensed what was going through the masked man's mind. He waited, his lips forming a thin line, while the masked man held a firm grip on his shirt.