W. C. Tuttle

“ Hashknife peered around the corner and stepped out, with Sleepy beside him. Jake Blue and Doc Clevis were on the porch arguing through the open door with Skelton, while the rest of the men were still mounted. The nearest man to them was a grim-faced person, with a heavy red mustache. Just beyond him was a heavy-set cowboy, with an enormous nose.
“Horse-thieves from the Hashknife!” snorted Hashknife loudly.
Every one turned quickly, and just as quickly they realized their disadvantage. ”

“ Hashknife pointed at the tombstones.
“There’s an effect, Lonesome.”
Lonesome nodded as if only half-understanding and looked at Hashknife.
“Where’s my daughter?”
“Never mind her, Lonesome. What you don’t know won’t hurt you, and dead men tell no tales. You’re supposed to be dead, you know.” ”

“ Blue detailed twelve men to circle the place and stop any chance of escape, while the rest of them, confident in their might, rode straight to the porch. Nearly every man held a rifle in his hands, ready for action, while Jake Blue swung onto the porch and approached the door.
Doc Clevis, Spot Easton and Blondy Hagen were in the main body of the mob, as were also Dell Blackwood and two of the boys from the 88. Blackwood’s horse was at the extreme outer edge of the crowd, and Blackwood’s eyes shifted around as he considered the safest way out. He knew Hashknife Hartley. ”

“ Hashknife dove forward, grasped the old man in his arms and fairly fell through the doorway with him. Another bullet bit into the door-casing, and Skelton and Sleepy dove in behind Hashknife. Another bullet pinged in through the door and ricocheted off the cook-stove before Skelton kicked the door shut.
Hashknife picked Lonesome Lee off the floor and laid him on the bed. The old man’s face was a mass of gore and he was cursing wickedly, deliriously; fighting to get back to his feet. ”

“ A number of men were standing at the bar, but Easton and Blue ignored them. Two cowboys were shaking dice on the bar-top at Easton’s right hand.
“’At’s horse ’n horse,” declared one of them. “One flop, Sleepy.”
Easton shot a sidewise look at the speaker. It was the tall cowboy, who had hit him on the ear, standing elbow to elbow with him; intent on his dice shaking.
Easton slowly turned his head and looked at Blue, who was toying with his glass of liquor. The dice rattled.
“You’re stuck!” exclaimed Hashknife. ”

“ He brushed past Skelton, who stepped aside at a nod from Hashknife, and they all went inside. Blue and the doctor looked around. The blood-stained blanket on the bed caught Blue’s eye, and he pounced on it quickly.
“Whose blood is that?” he asked triumphantly.
“You can have it, if you want it,” said Hashknife.
“What’sa idea of hidin’ the body?” demanded the doctor.
“Looks —— queer t’ me,” swore Blue meaningly. “Man gets shot and his body hid. You fellers think you can do things like that? Huh!”
“Mebbe he’s already buried,” suggested Hashknife. “Mebbe we dug a hole and buried him.” ”

“ You don’t? Well, I do! Two feet deep, where that gambler was buried, is the cropping of a ledge of quartz that is so danged rich in gold that it scared me. Jake Blue, Easton and Doc Clevis moved your graveyard for fear they might never own that gold. They killed Quinin Quinn, either because he knew too much, or to try and scare Skelton into sellin’ ’em the ranch!”
As Hashknife was finishing Skelton and Sleepy stepped out onto the porch beside him. Behind them came Lonesome Lee.
For a moment there was absolute silence, broken only by the slap of Jake Blue’s palm against the butt of his gun. ”

“ Mr. Blue’s face did not belie his name, except that it went purple from the added flood of red. He opened his mouth, as though a ready retort burned his tongue, then he shut his jaws tightly and turned to the doctor—
“When’ll you hold a inquest, Doc?” ”

“ They went up the sidewalk, past the Hole-in-the-Wall feed-corral, and almost bumped into Lonesome Lee, who was coming out from the narrow alley between the feed-corral and general store. The old man’s cheeks were streaked with tears and dust, and he was half-sobbing—drunkenly. He gawped at Hashknife and Sleepy and tried to avoid them, but Hashknife took him by the arm and drew him back.
“What’s the matter with you?” growled Hashknife. “Ain’t nobody goin’ to hurt you, old-timer. Here’s your letter.” ”

“ Lonesome went down the short ladder, and the trap was closed and covered with the table, just as a crowd of men, led by Jake Blue, rode up to the front door.
Hashknife and Sleepy had closed the door as they came in, and now Skelton slipped the bar into place and picked up his shotgun.
“Come on,” whispered Hashknife. “We’ll go out the back window, Sleepy. Don’t make any resistance, Skelton. Put down the shotgun and act natural.” ”

“ We’re common folks here at the Half-Moon, and, outside of havin’ an imported cook, we don’t put on much dog.”
“I suppose,” said Jane softly, “I should be thankful that I am here with you.”
“Yes, and you don’t know half of it, little lady.”
Hashknife and Sleepy took the horse and buggy back to Caldwell, and tied the horse to the rack beside the livery-stable. No one saw them come, and no one saw them leave, except one or two dogs, which barked sleepily.
They rode back to the Tombstone ranch, and stabled their horses just as the first light of dawn showed over the eastern hills. ”

“ Hashknife was quite at his ease. “Old Lonesome Lee owned the Cross-L outfit—and a big thirst—a very big thirst. Bein’ drunk most of the time made it plumb easy for another man to hoodle him out of the brand, which was changed to the 88—for a reason.”
“That’s a —— lie!” snorted Easton. “Everybody knows that I——”
“About that time,” interrupted Hashknife, “this old 33 outfit begins to dwindle. Their cows don’t bring in no calves. Everybody hates Skelton, and he knows —— well that nobody is goin’ to help him find out where they went to. Somebody tries to buy him out. ”

“ There was little flat land in the Lodge-Pole range, but it was ideal for cattle; the breaks giving protection for feed in Summer and for stock in Winter. Cottonwood grew in abundance along the streams, and every cañon seemed heavily stocked with willow. The hills were scored with stock-trails, leading from water to the higher ground.
“Don’t like this country,” declared Sleepy after they had ridden away from the Half-Moon, “too many places to shoot from cover.”
“Sleepy, you ought to have been an undertaker,” said Hashknife. “Death sure does have a attraction for you, cowboy. ”

“ They’re surroundin’ the place this time!”
“Wish ’em joy, Sleepy,” chuckled Hashknife, licking the edge of a fresh cigaret.
“Skelton, you keep that danged riot-gun under control, will you. There’s a lot of decent folks in that mob, and that thing scatters.”
Beyond a doubt this time Jake Blue was prepared to make good. He had at least fifty men in his posse, fifty hard-bitten cattlemen, who were determined to help him uphold the law. Easton’s tale of the kidnaping had been substantiated by the stable-man, at Gunsight. ”

“ Hashknife laughed softly. “But this has got to be confidential, Mrs. Snow. It’s about a girl.”
“Thasso?” Mrs. Snow’s voice was a trifle sarcastic. “I ain’t in the habit of bein’ woke up at four o’clock to pass out advice to the love-lorn, Mr. Hartley.”
“Listen, ma’am,” begged Hashknife. “This ain’t nothin’ matrimonial—honest to gosh. You know Spot Easton?”
“By sight and smell,” she replied. Spot Easton’s perfumery was not at all popular with the range folk.
“He lied to a girl,” stated Hashknife softly. ”

“ The bartender sighed, folded over a leaf of his book to mark his place, and came down to them.
“’Smatter over there?” he indicated the street with a jerk of his sleek-combed head.
“Feller got leaded up,” said Hashknife. “Feller named Quinn.”
“Quinin Quinn, eh? Dead? The son-of-a-gun! Whatcha drinkin’? Seen Swede Sam over there, too. He ain’t mixed up in it, is he? Whatcha drinkin’? Know Quinn? Never smiled. No sir, that hombre didn’t know how. Ain’t no reason for killin’ him off. Feller’s got a right to look sour, ain’t he? I’d sure have to have a good reason before I’d kill any man. ”

“ Every danged place we go you gets into some dang kind of a mixup, and she’s always because you feel sorry fer somebody. If it was only you I’d say for you to go to it and grab a tombstone but, blast it all, you always drags me into it.”
Sleepy stopped for lack of breath and glared at Hashknife.
“Yes sir,” nodded Hashknife slowly, “just suppose you was a brother to that girl. It’s thirty miles; which is some ride in the dark.”
“Hey!” yelled Skelton from the kitchen. “You jaspers like gravy with your spuds?” ”

“ I ain’t breakin’ away from nobody, Spot; but when you monkey with them two jaspers there’s a hoo-doo on the job, I tell you. If you lemme try agin’ with the long-range stuff——”
“And miss again,” sneered Easton. “All the good that’s done is to make old Skelton more careful.”
“We ain’t had much luck, tha’s a fact,” said Jake Blue sadly. “Mebbe we went at it all wrong.”
“You can’t expect a fortune to come along and roost in your lap, can you?” asked Easton sneeringly. “We’ll get these two punchers into jail and then we’ll settle with old man Skelton.” ”

“ Then to Lonesome and Jane, she said:
“Pile in here and go back to the ranch for supper with me. I hope that danged Swede cook don’t take the things to heart that I told him today, ’cause I need him for one more meal. You fellers better come along, too, ’cause I want you to tell me all about it.”
“Please do,” Jane pleaded. “Perhaps Mr. Stevens will sing for us.”
Mrs. Frosty Snow turned the team around and headed for the gate, while Hashknife, Sleepy and Skelton stood together and watched them disappear around the bend. Hashknife went over to the porch and kicked loose the pegs and broken wires. ”

“ Hashknife lighted his cigaret and looked around the room. It contained a box-stove, a table, littered with cigaret papers, two bunks and a few chairs.
“Me and Quinin lived in here,” said Skelton. “Built our bunks in here so there’d only be one room to clean.”
“What’s the trouble around here?” asked Hashknife suddenly.
Skelton stared at him.
“What trouble?”
“Folks don’t like you, Skelton. Feller don’t get disliked for nothin’. Either you’re wrong, or folks see things wrong. Me and Sleepy are danged good listeners.”
“That’s a fact, Bliz,” nodded Sleepy. ”

“ Everyone kept under cover for fear of another shot from the hills. Lonesome Lee asked no more questions. He seemed to be willing to let Hashknife engineer the whole thing.
It was about eleven o’clock the next morning when Mrs. Frosty Snow drove through the big gate and uprooted several of the tombstones in her mad haste.
Hashknife met her at the door, and she fairly exploded in her eagerness to tell the latest news.
“You fellers better hit the hills!” she panted. “You’re accused of kidnapin’ Lonesome Lee’s daughter and killin’ the old man, ’cause he tried to make you give her up!” ”

“ Barney squinted at the rim of the wheel, as he felt of the joint with a thumb.
“There ain’t no tricks in this trade; it’s all —— hard work and disappointment. Hear they put the Swede in jail.”
Barney rubbed his hands on his hips and, reaching for Sleepy’s sack of tobacco, squatted down beside them.
“I dunno who killed Quinin Quinn, but it’s a dead immortal cinch that Swede Sam never did.”
“Where’d that .30-30 rifle come from, do you figure?” asked Hashknife. ”

“ I hope you and Jake Blue will get your men today. I don’t want Lonesome Lee to talk to Hashknife. It may take a killin’ to prevent it.”
“You don’t let me in on anythin’,” complained Blondy bitterly. “You talk about letters and cattle-brands and the Tombstone ranch, and you never let me know the why of anythin’. All I’m good fer is to bush-whack, somebody.”
“You get paid for it, don’t you?” demanded Easton.
“Yeah, I get paid for it.”
“Then keep your mouth shut, Hagen. The less you know the safer you are—sabe? It’ll pay you to keep still.”
It was about noon when Hashknife and Sleepy woke up. ”

“ Skelton shook his head wonderingly and replaced the jug, while Hashknife went to Lonesome and put his hand on the old man’s shoulder.
“Everybody in Caldwell thinks you’re dead, Lonesome. Mind keepin’ out of sight for a while, and let ’em go on thinkin’ that?”
“What’s the idea?”
“It’s like this,” Hashknife wrinkled his nose away from the smoke of his cigaret. “In an honest court we could make Easton and his gang hard to catch, for rustlin’, but under the present conditions it’s only an excuse to kill somebody. ”

“ Easton said nothing. They walked up the sloping sidewalk to the door of the stable and stopped. There was not a sound from the interior, except horses munching hay.
Easton looked up and down the street. He could see the hitch-rack in front of the Ten-Spot, but was unable to distinguish the color of the horses.
“Hey!” he called. There was no response. “I suppose I’ll have to harness my own horse,” he said to the girl.
He placed the valise on the floor and walked slowly inside. The door of the grain room was partly open, and he peered in. ”