H. Bedford-Jones

“ Hot as that glare might be, the motion of the car kept its occupants comfortable; and the flivver itself, specially equipped with water-pump for desert use, made no complaint as the miles dropped behind. Now and again Tompkins asked a question, Sagebrush responding curtly. Garrulous as he was at times, the old desert rat was for the most part silent as the desert itself, whose quiet was broken only by the angry chattering of cactus wrens or the occasional shrill call-whistle of a thrasher. ”

“ Ximines, who perhaps wanted to let Sidewinder and the other two men get well away, paid her no attention but smoked on reflectively and stared down the cañon. He had drawn his pistol, however, and now held it idly in his lap.
Ramsay, arms bound and gagged as he was, was more terrified than the girl. He knew that Ximines might at any instant leap into stark blood-madness or wild passion. Alienists declare that the man who thinks himself about to explode is the most dangerous of all maniacs; but men on the border know that more dangerous than any maniac is the smoker of marihuana. ”

“ To Tompkins, as to every other naturalist, it was an unsolved mystery how the pack-rat, with delicate and unprotected paws, could handle these joints of cactus. No other living creature can face the cholla cactus, whose spines, as the Indians declare, jump at one, inflicting acute agony; even the rattler avoids it gingerly. Here for a space of ten feet around the nest were heaped the matted cholla joints, while the pack-rat who owned the establishment sat out in full sight and insulted the hovering coyote with angry taunts. ”

“ The horse stumbled suddenly, was reined sharply in—the lariat slackened. Ramsay rolled over on his side, gained his feet with a leap, cocked and fired the rifle from his hip. It was a chance shot, but a good one. The poor horse sank forward. Its outlaw rider, leaping from the saddle, turned and threw up a pistol. But Ramsay, working up the lariat, had ejected the shell and now fired again. The outlaw pitched forward on his face, shot through the brain.
All this took place with incredible rapidity. Indeed, it must have passed swiftly, for no man can long survive the dragging at a lariat’s end. ”

“ Now, free of the remuda, the three were plunging toward the passage and the three outstretched figures lying there in the open; one of those figures was moving, slowly crawling upward. Jimson, dying hard, got to one knee and remained thus, swaying.
The three outlaws swept on, straight for the figure of Jimson, and the man in the lead was Tom Emery, his mass of flaming whiskers marking him clearly. All three had rifles and were girded with gun-belts. Ramsay grinned excitedly as he waited, out of sight. ”

“ If men offended the laws of nature, a terrible punishment was exacted from them. If they offended the laws of man, as they did every day, the ordinary machinery of man’s justice could not always reach them—and they knew it.
“By gosh,” said Sagebrush, when they halted at noon in the shade of a towering pinnacle of rock, “ye done a good stroke when ye got to work this mornin’ and cut off Sidewinder from them fellers yonder! Yessir! I’d think twicet or maybe three times ’fore I tackled that there gent. ”

“ Until tomorrow, at least, I must remain Percival and so forth Tompkins—and then I’ll become Pat Ramsay once more, and get into action. The damned murderers! I wonder how many men have gone the way of poor Alec? I wonder how many people have been decoyed into this spiderweb to lose everything they had? Alec must have gone investigating, must have discovered the headquarters of this gang—and so they finished him. He’s probably lying somewhere up that cañon now. ”

“ He had escaped from a California penitentiary three years previously, where he was serving a life term for murder and forgery. The last of the four men was a pure Mexican, one Manuel Ximines—a scowling, sullen scoundrel from below the border, a murderer of women. Not all this had given the two friends pause, however, but the shrill wail of an infant from one of the other shacks, and the thin voices of two Mexican women.
“Women everywhere. Aint it hell?” demanded Sagebrush, when they were at a safe distance. “And now what?”
“Walk in on the four of them,” said Ramsay promptly. “And we have ’em.” ”

“ Here, besides the hotel, were five inhabited houses and two stores, a bank and a garage. Had it not been for the literary enterprise of Sagebrush Beam, even the post office would have long since been wiped off the map. The town was a point of call for desert rats, and being at present on a detour of the cross-continent automobile highway, had more business than its looks would warrant. Its inhabitants lived only for the day when some one would strike it rich and bring back the boom. ”

“ I don’t even know that I’m right; haven’t a darned bit of proof to lay before her! But this Sidewinder Crowfoot sure lays a clever trap for suckers. Not a chicken around here, eh? He’s dead right, at that. What with coyotes, skunks, lynx and snakes, not to mention rats, any chickens would have a hard struggle. And the advertisement doesn’t mention water. Hm! I wonder how many poor flies have been drawn into this spider-net and sucked dry? And I wonder how many poor devils have gone out into that desert around here and never come back—like my brother Alec Ramsay? ”

“ We’ll nab her and her car. —Hey, Ramsay! Where’s that rat Sagebrush?”
“Last I saw of him was out in the desert,” said Ramsay truthfully. “He didn’t fancy any acquaintance with Miss Gilman, and got right huffy over her being around.”
“So he run off, eh? Blamed if that aint old Sagebrush all over!” Sidewinder chuckled dryly. “Where’s your car?”
“At Pinecate Cañon.”
“All right.” Sidewinder eyed his three men. “Ye see, we can’t afford to take no chances. If we kill this hombre, there may be questions asked—and what’d we do with the Gilman woman? I don’t aim to murder a woman.” ”

“ Sagebrush grunted, hitched his three burros to the rail, and vanished in the hotel.
Once Stovepipe Springs had been a boom mining town, but now it was dead and dried out. To west and north lay desert, to the south lay more desert and the Colorado. To the east was the Chuckwalla Range—in it and beyond it rich cattle country with water galore. Here in Stovepipe Springs, and over across the Chuckwallas, men talked different languages, had different customs and were themselves different. No cow-men came over this way unless they were well ahead of the sheriff ”

“ Hassayamp owns it. He showed me where a mine used to be—it’s played out now. I don’t care a bit if the place is never any real good to me; I’m going to keep it just to live on when I get old, and enjoy it. Why, you get a wonderful view from the upper cañon out over the desert!”
“Well,” said Tompkins reluctantly, “since your eyes are open, I can’t of course make any more objections, though you can buy plenty of desert cañon for less money. But what about transport?”
“I’ve bought Hassayamp’s car. It’s an old one, but I know all about a flivver and it will do me. ”

“ The “Perfesser” looked slightly startled, but nodded assent.
“Very well; you are engaged. We shall have to hire an automobile.”
“You got to see Sidewinder Crowfoot about that. He owns ’em all.”
“Very well. Come to my room in an hour, when I have had a chance to remove the stains of travel. By the way, where is the hotel? I wrote to engage rooms, but see no hostelry.”
“Right yere under your nose, Perfesser. Hassayamp is takin’ in the mail—thar he is. —Hey, Hassayamp! Meet my friend the Perfesser. This is Hassayamp Foster, Perfesser. The Perfesser’s a bug-hunter, Hassayamp, and wants a bed.” ”

“ How’s it suit?”
“Fine with me,” said Tom Emery, pawing his red whiskers.
Cholo Bill nodded. “Bueno! But my woman, she go with me and the remuda.”
“Mine too,” growled Ximines.
“Then get busy.” Sidewinder rose. “Tie up this gent.”
Ramsay, despite his protestations, was seized and lashed firmly to a tree, after which he was ignored for the remainder of the morning. He was somewhat relieved by the exposition of Sidewinder’s plans, since these did not at least include murder; this relief was more than balanced, however, by the menace directed toward Ethel Gilman. ”

“ He seemed to have quite gotten over all his aversion to this particular woman. “Best thing for blood is good fat lizard-meat. I’ll get me a likely chuckwalla and lay him in the ashes, and feed up. Some says pack-rats make good meat, but I dunno. I’ve et rattlesnake, but my gosh! A feller has to draw the line somewhere, and I draws it at pack-rats. So you’re figgering on roundin’ up Sidewinder tonight, Perfesser?”
“Yes,” responded Ramsay. “If I can get Tom Emery and Cholo Bill—”
“Ye can’t do it noways,” said Sagebrush with savage emphasis. “Don’t be a durned fool and try it, Perfesser. ”

“ Gosh, ye don’t talk like the same feller ye was—”
“Never mind. Your job is to be a human sphinx. Supper ready?”
“Bell’s just about to ring, Puffesser. I’ll be along d’rectly.”
Seeking his own cell, Tompkins enjoyed a thorough wash-up, and before he finished heard signs of life in the adjoining room which tokened that Miss Gilman had returned. On his way to the dining-room he encountered Hassayamp, looking more melancholy than ever, and was given a cheerless nod; then a flicker of interest seized the hotel-proprietor.
“Say, Puffesser! Thought you aimed to stay awhile in the desert?” ”

“ Disregarding their curious glances, Miss Gilman, looking only at the figure of Ramsay, returned to her tent and sat down before it. Sidewinder and his companions managed a makeshift bite to eat and a swallow of warm coffee apiece; then Sidewinder rose.
“We’ll leave the hosses here. Which of you boys can drive a car? Got to take ’em both to town with us.”
“I can,” said Tom Emery.
“All right—”
“Somebody better stay and watch things, and attend to the horses,” spoke up Manuel Ximines, who was rolling one of his evil-smelling cigarettes. “It would be foolish to leave horses here. ”

“ Tompkins frowned. “Sagebrush, that mesa up ahead would make a fine place for a chicken-ranch, wouldn’t it?”
“Hell of a fine place,” affirmed the desert rat, squinting at the long saddleback. “Danged fine place, Perfesser! Every wildcat and coyote in the Chuckwallas would be pointin’ that way, inside of a week. If a gent was feelin’ real philanthropic and wantin’ to help out the pore desert critters, I’d say start him a chicken-and-egg factory right up yonder. Yessir. That’s like Haywire Johnson done, time he was livin’ down to Meteorite. ”

“ You’ll have a right good remuda, and you three fellers can run ’em up to Silver City. Emery, you know how to get there across the Salt Pans, don’t ye?”
Tom Emery nodded in silence, but jerked his thumb at Ramsay.
“Don’t worry none about him. First, get them women off. Then get busy with the irons. We’ll be until night gettin’ the remuda worked over and in good shape. Then, early in the morning, we’ll ride over to Pinecate Cañon with this inquisitive pilgrim. That fool woman is goin’ out there sometime today, to camp and see about where to build a shack. ”

“ With this, Sidewinder turned to the three outlaws and briefly described Miss Gilman’s activities, while Ramsay listened in acute anxiety.
“All good things have an end,” he finished. “We’ve just about reached the end of our rope. The thing to do now is to bust up camp. Better get them women and the kid off right now, with hosses. Let ’em ride in to town, and José Garcia will take care of ’em until you’re ready to send for ’em. Then get busy with a running-iron and a knife, and we’ll go over them hosses on hand. Any that can’t be worked over, leave here. ”

“ Everybody there is wanted, you betcha!. We don’t need no warrants, nor no officers fussin’ around to see things is done right.”
“Nomination seconded,” said Ramsay promptly. “How far is it from here?”
“Hold on,” warned the desert rat. “This aint no picnic party, Perfesser. We got to git busy ’fore Sidewinder gits busy, but there’s no sense to rushin’ things. We can’t take no autybile over there. We got to hike. Ground’s durned rocky and rough. Yessir! We’re headin’ east on a rough and rocky road, and no mistake. That’s one reason nobody aint never follered none o’ that gang to the roost. ”

“ Dad blame this dad-blamed town! What in hell is folks crowding in this country for, anyhow?”
Haywire Johnson, assistant postmaster and general utility man about the hotel, showed up in time to answer this query.
“Hi, Sagebrush! Aint you stoppin’ over in town? Things is pickin’ up right fast. We got a settler yesterday, and we got a tourist comin’ today.”
“That’s jest it,” growled Sagebrush. “A feller can’t have no peace no more. That makes three women in town now, not countin’ them females over to José Garcia’s shack.”
“Well, listen!” Haywire laid his hand on the desert rat’s arm. ”

“ Ramsay followed suit, and the desert rat softly elucidated the situation.
“We got things straight now, Perfesser. This yere crowd is right happily located, for a fact! The idee is, they slide acrost the hills to the Chuckwalla range and slide back with a few hosses picked up over there. When they get a right good remuda, they drive ’em over to the railroad at Meteorite, or maybe up north acrost the Salt Pans to Silver City. They keep ’em yere maybe six months till the hair’s growed out over the rebrand, and by that time everybody’s give up looking: they prob’ly git a lot o’ foals, too.” ”

“ When the sun was drawing down to the western horizon, Sagebrush halted.
“No use goin’ on now—we’ll be in the cañon in half an hour and can’t take no chances. Goin’ to be a clear night, and cold as hell. Why don’t preachers make hell a cold place, Perfesser? Dad blame if I can see anythin’ ornery in hell the way it’s laid out. I bet it aint no hotter’n the Ralston Desert up in Nevada, and that don’t stack up noways alongside what Imperial Valley used to be ’fore they started growin’ melons and garden truck there. Reckon I’m goin’ to freeze tonight ’thout no fire, but can’t be helped. ”