W. C. Tuttle

“ And in all their wanderings, the thing uppermost in their minds was to find the spot where they might be satisfied to settle down and live a peaceful life; both of them realizing all the while that they would never be satisfied with peace. Always the other side of the hill called to them—the irresistible call of the open, of the strange places, which is always answered by men who can’t sit still. ”

“ Hashknife nodded seriously.
“Yeah, that might be true. Mebbe he thinks we’re here to work on that case. I hate to get fooled on humanity, Sleepy. That feller may be awful slick. He’s either innocent, or smooth as satin, because he sure had an alibi on the end of his tongue.”
“But he didn’t have any rifle,” said Jimmy.
“A rifle is easy to hide,” said Sleepy, shaking his head. “Nossir, I’d look out for Mr. Goode.”
“But that shot was fired at me.” Jimmy was not to be denied of his thrill. “It went right past my ear.”
“And why would Goode shoot at Jimmy?” questioned Marion. ”

“ He moved along the patio wall, slipped out through the gate, while Sleepy took a rifle from the bunk-house, swearing disgustedly over the fact that Hashknife had taken all the cartridges.
“It came from the hill back of us,” said Marion. “Poor old Apollo!”
“Yeah, he’s a goner,” said Sleepy softly. “Well, that’s about all yuh ever could do to make him die. If old age was ever goin’ to kill him, he’d ’a’ died forty years ago.”
There were tears in Marion’s eyes as she looked at the sprawling figure of the ancient burro. Worse than useless, he had always been a part of the Double Bar 8. ”

“ Hashknife held out his hand to Jimmy, as he said,
“Young man, you belong. I wouldn’t blame yuh if yuh ran away. We’re just a pair of ordinary human beings, but we’re backin’ yore play.”
“Gee, that’s nice of you! I’m not much good—not alone. I didn’t come here with the idea of becoming a gunman, but I wish somebody would show me something about a revolver. It tries to jump out of my hand every time I shoot it, and I can’t hit a five-gallon can at ten feet. Really, a fellow should know something about a gun—if somebody is trying to lull him.” ”

“ Jimmy shuffled his feet.
“Well,” he said slowly, “I really don’t know. Unless, of course, she has some horses that need to have some one fall off them. Johnny Grant says I’m the best he has ever seen. He says if you’re a champion rider there’s always a dispute over it. But if you’re a champion faller-off, you’ve got a cinch title.”
The two cowboys laughed at Jimmy, or rather, with him.
“Can yuh handle a rope?” asked Hashknife.
“Not on a horse. There’s too many things to remember. I always fell off, trying to keep from tripping my own horse. On the ground, I’m pretty good. ”

“ And to draw one real fast, like Johnny Grant can?”
“I’ve never seen Johnny Grant draw a gun. I’ve found that it isn’t all in the speed. Too much speed wastes the first shot. Never reach for a gun, unless you mean to use it, and when you do reach, draw and shoot deliberately. Split-second gunmen don’t hit anythin’. And another thing, Jimmy—don’t shoot, unless yo’re in the right. Bein’ right to start with will win nine times out of ten. You know it and the other man knows it.”
“I think I know what you mean, Mr. Hartley.”
“I’m glad yuh do—and my name’s Hashknife—to them that belong.” ”

“ And that about lets me out, I guess.”
“Well, yo’re honest about it, anyway,” laughed Sleepy. “If yuh live long enough, you’ll prob’ly be a top-hand about the time they stop raisin’ cattle and start on sugar-beets.”
“I’d have an even chance with the rest of the cowboys at raising sugar-beets, I suppose.”
“You sure are an optimist, pardner,” laughed Hashknife. “I hope Miss Taylor can use yuh. We need an optimist around us.”
“Fine,” grinned Jimmy. “And I’d learn just as much about being a cowboy.”
“And maybe live longer,” said Sleepy. “Things that might make others shoot—make us laugh. ”

“ Sleepy floundered and wiped his eyes.
“You’ll excuse him, Miss Taylor,” said Hashknife seriously. “He ain’t very bright. Ever once in a while he gets a dirty look in his eyes, and has to wash ’em out, yuh see. As a friend he’s all right, but when yuh want mental companionship, I’d as soon have that burro yuh call Apollo.”
Marion laughed, and invited them in to breakfast. She introduced them to Nanah, a portly Indian woman, whom Sleepy dubbed “Carrie Nation,” because she held a hatchet in her left hand, while she shook hands with the other. ”

“ My name’s Hashknife. Now, that yuh know me well enough to call me Hashknife, I’d say that I’d let about four X’s equal the missin’ bandits, and work out the problem from there. We’ve got the dog. Workin’ backwards from a dog, yuh ought to get quite a lot.
“In the beginnin’, I’d like to ask yuh what yuh know about a feller who is workin’ for the AK outfit who is named Jimmy Legg-”
“James Eaton Legg,” said Marion solemnly. “He said it sounded like a cannibal. I don’t know a thing about him, except that he came to Blue Wells the night of the robbery. ”

“ Hashknife studied the face of the ex-Black Wells cowboy, but the man seemed sincere.
“I want to believe yuh, Goode. But a while ago somebody fired a rifle up here, and the bullet almost killed a woman in the Double Bar 8 patio.”
Goode’s eyes narrowed.
“And yuh thought I done it, Hartley?”
“I found yuh here.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I heard the shot. It wasn’t long ago. But a shot don’t mean anythin’. I scared up a flock of quad back there on the hill, and I jist wondered if somebody hadn’t been out tryin’ to get a meal of ’em.” ”

“ Goode looked curiously at Hashknife, his lips pursed thoughtfully.
“Well, it hadn’t ought to,” he said slowly.
Hashknife nodded. He liked Goode for that remark.
“We might as well go down to the ranch-house,” suggested Hashknife. “I reckon the shootin’ is all over.”
“I hope t’ gosh it is, Hartley. That’s nasty business.” ”

“ Goode?”
“Me?” Goode spat thoughtfully. “That’s a queer question, my friend with the cocked Winchester. ’S far as I remember, I ain’t tried to kill anybody for a long time.”
“No-o-o-o?” drawled Hashknife. “I hate to call a man a liar.”
“Prob’ly,” dryly. “I hate to be called one, when I’ve got my hands in the air.”
“Sure. Yuh might care to tell me how yuh happen to be right here about this time.”
“Cinch. I’m from the X Bar 6 outfit. Me and Ed Gast was back toward Yaller Horn Mesa today, and when we’re on our way back I decides to ride down to the Double Bar 8. Ed went on to Blue Wells ”

“ Too lazy.”
“And that’s the most perfect alibi I ever heard,” laughed Hashknife. “Nanah, I’ll bet any jury in Blue Wells would turn him loose on that kind of evidence.”
“What do you think of the case?” asked Marion.
Hashknife shook his head.
“I dunno, Miss Taylor. It kinda looks to me as though the sheriff had kinda gone off half-cocked. That old judge ought to be restin’ in a cemetery. I dunno how any community could stand for an old mummy like him. He ain’t human. There ain’t nothin’ against ’em, except that darned dog, and the fact they were not home that night.” ”

“ Jimmy hesitated awkwardly. “But he—whoever fired that shot—wanted to kill me, didn’t they? Don’t you suppose they’ll try again?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Gee, that puts me in a fine position!”
“Yea-a-ah, it does. You ought to grab a train and high-tail it out of this country.”
Jimmy thought it over seriously, the smoke from his cigaret drifting up into his eyes.
“No,” he said finally, “I won’t go. I’ve never injured any one, and I’m not going to run away.”
“And take chances on bein’ killed?”
Jimmy nodded.
“Yes; it’s all right. I might be lucky.” ”

“ He ran into the bunk-house, and came out in a minute, stuffing cartridges into the loading-gate of one of the ranch rifles.
“Oh, be careful about showing yourself,” cautioned Marion.
“Thanks,” grinned Hashknife. ”

“ He wore overalls and boots, and when he wasn’t ridin’ from place to place, packin’ his gospel, he was workin’ like —— at somethin’ else to make a livin’ for the family, because preachin’ didn’t pay dividends.
“There was six of us kids, and I was the oldest; which meant that I was shiftin’ for myself when I was twelve. I naturally didn’t get over-educated. But I competed against men, and they taught me things. There wasn’t anythin’ to do in that country, except punchin’ cows; so I naturally learned the business. ”