Cactus and Rattlers/Chapter 10

HE three shacks at the head of Hourglass Cañon were set amid trees and near a trickling brook, which in another three weeks would be only a summer's memory, and which was lost in the grass a hundred yards distant. Ramsay was allowed to sit against a tree, and was set free of his bonds, while his four captors surrounded him. The two frightened Mexican women, wretched creatures who belonged to Ximines and Cholo Bill, fetched coffee and tortillas.

Ramsay had been studying his captors. Ximines was the most dangerous, because the most vicious and debased. Cholo Bill was far above him in character. Tom Emery had some traces of humor in his brutal countenance. All three of them were distinctly perturbed and uneasy, yet deferred everything to Sidewinder. And Ramsay perceived that Crowfoot himself, beneath that grayish mask of a face, was more alarmed than he cared to betray.

"Now, you going to talk or do we got to make ye?" demanded Sidewinder, his reptilian gaze fastened on Ramsay. The latter smiled slightly.

"You give me a share in your breakfast and let me get my pipe going, and I'll swap all the information you want."

"Fair enough," grunted Sidewinder, and summoned one of the women.

AMSAY found his tortillas excellent and the coffee passable, and attacked his breakfast heartily. His chief concern was for Sagebrush. The latter was either dead, in which case he could not be aided, or else was wounded, in which case he was better off without Sidewinder's help; in either event, his participation in the morning's affair was not suspected and must not be suspected. In all other respects, frank speech was the best policy.

The meal finished, Ramsay got his pipe going while the other four rolled cigarettes, and Sidewinder started his catechism.

"First off, what kind of an officer are you, anyhow? County, State or Fed'ral?"

"Neither one," Ramsay chuckled. "My name's Pat Ramsay. I came here to get Mr. Emery yonder, also Cholo Bill, for the murder of my brother Alec last year. You were a party to it also."

Emery started to speak, but Sidewinder flashed him a look that held him silent.

"It wasn't no murder," said Sidewinder. "It was a straight killin'—"

"No use passing any lies," said Ramsay quietly. "Let's all stick to the truth. Alec left a message for me, also the deed to that property he bought from Harrison—told me all about it. I found 'em in Pinecate Cañon the other day. The deed's gone in to the recorder's office. So has an explanation of the circumstances. I expect the sheriff will be along any time to look things over."

N outburst of startled oaths broke from the three outlaws, but Sidewinder only grinned and put a hand to his pocket. He drew forth an unopened letter. Ramsay, in dismay, recognized it as that containing the deed, which he had registered with Haywire Johnson.

"Here y'are," said Sidewinder, and tossed it to him with a malignant grin. "I reckon ye might's well keep it. Serve for identification. Darned good thing I took a look through that mail-sack 'fore it went out yesterday, eh? What'd you do to Hassayamp, anyhow? He got Miss Gilman's money, took Mesquite's hoss and beat it for parts unknown."

Ramsay, although he flinched under the blow, rallied quickly.

"I jogged his memory about a job he pulled off down in Arizona before coming here."

"And ye sure give Mesquite a scare. Reckon he's still goin'. So you aint no officer, eh? You just come nosing in here on your own hook, eh? Well, you've sure played hell. I wonder how you can set there and eat and smoke and laugh, after wipin' out three good men this morning! Aint you got no conscience? Don't it mean nothin' to you that ye've killed three men?"

Ramsay shrugged.

"It doesn't worry you to bring in people from outside and cheat them or murder them, does it?" he retorted. "And it doesn't worry anyone to wipe out a rattler. You fellows and desert rattlers are about in the same class."

"And you'll be in the same class with your brother when we get through with ye," said Sidewinder acidly.

"He knows too much," said Ximines in Spanish. "Kill him now, quickly."

"You back down and rest your heels," snapped Sidewinder. "I'm running this show. Now, Ramsay, you're alone in this deal—you and Miss Gilman—"

"She's not in it," broke out Ramsay quickly, alarmed by the man's look.

"Don't ye lie to me! You and her have been carryin' on together. Got to town about the same time, and been thick ever since. She fooled me at first, all right, but now I'm wide awake and ready to strike. You've earned your victuals. Now shut up."

ITH 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. 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. 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."

"Give her to me," suggested Ximines, with a grin.

"You go plumb to hell," snapped Sidewinder. "I don't guess any of us want a double murder charge follering us. So here's the program with them two: Leave 'em in Pinecate Cañon, with some grub. They aint going to walk away from there in a hurry—"

"Hamstring him! " Ximines gave Ramsay a scowling glance.

"Good idea," approved Sidewinder, with a nod. "Fix him so's he can't travel, anyhow. Then I'll have José Garcia come over there from town and camp out to keep an eye on the two of 'em. You boys run the remuda up to Silver City, sell her, and then scatter. I'll get sold out in Stovepipe Springs, and disappear. Three weeks ought to fix us up all around. Then Garcia can remove himself likewise. By the time Ramsay and that fool woman get out to where they can tell their story—let 'em tell it! That's the general scheme. We can fix the details later. 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."

AMSAY, 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.

The hours dragged past, while Sidewinder and his three companions worked like slaves. The entire band of horses, numbering nearly forty, had to be gone over. Each animal had to be examined carefully, and his brand worked upon with running irons to make it accord with the brands used by Sidewinder, while the other marks also had to be altered to suit.

There was an hour's lay-off at noon, when Ramsay was given temporary liberty. Then he was closely confined again, and the work went on. Five of the unavailable horses were turned into a small corral behind the shacks, and one of the women was sent to the outer cañon to bring in the horse which Sidewinder had left there. She returned later with word that the animal had wandered off out of sight.

It was nearly sunset when the work was concluded, and the four men, weary to the point of exhaustion, came in and flung themselves down. The two women had prepared a meal which was eaten hurriedly; then Ramsay, who had been released temporarily, was again bound and relegated to his post against the tree. Ordering the women to wake them at midnight, Sidewinder and the others rolled up and were asleep at once.

Benumbed by his many and tight lashings, stiff and sore with his hurts and bruises, Ramsay resigned himself to the inevitable, and after a little dropped off into a doze. From this he was wakened to find Ximines cutting him free and playfully jabbing him with the point of a knife as he cut.

"So, leetle señor, you come weeth me, eh?" In the starry darkness the white teeth of the swarthy Mexican outlaw flashed faintly. "You ride with Manuel," continued the man in Spanish, which Ramsay comprehended perfectly. "And while you ride conmigo, we shall talk, eh?"

Ramsay, rubbing his stiffened limbs, glanced around and saw that they were alone. He gathered his muscles—

"Careful, señor!" The muzzle of a pistol touched him. "Turn and walk to the horses."

"Five hundred dollars and a get-away, Ximines," he said softly, "if you turn me free."

The other growled. "Bah! If you have that much money, I shall take it anyway, and take the pretty señorita too! When we get to that cañon of pinecates, eh? Then this Sidewinder will go away, and maybe Manuel will come back, eh? And you will not be able to object, my little señor. Vamanos! To the horses!"

IDEWINDER called. Ramsay, hopeless, turned and went to the horses, saddled by the other men. He was put into a saddle, his feet roped to the stirrups, and his arms bound. Then Ximines, without orders but for reasons of his own, improvised a dirty bandana into a gag, which he lashed about the jaw of Ramsay.

"Bring him along," said Sidewinder impatiently, and mounted, leading the way. The others trailed out after him. After Cholo Bill rode Ramsay, the reins of his horse held by Ximines at his stirrup. As they rode out across the grassy cañon, the Mexican laughed and spoke softly to the captive.

"Ho, little señor! What is it I read in the newspaper, that the wise men say in your town of New York, eh? They say that the Americano, he is not civilized—that the Americano of the West, he is an animal. Ho! Well, when I come back to that cañon of the little tumbling bugs, señor, you shall see how we treat gringos, dogs of Americanos, in my country! And you will not be able to walk, for I shall cut your legs behind—que lástima! What a pity, little señor! And when I kiss the señorita, eh? It will be amusing to hear you curse, uncivilized Americano!"

Ramsay now perceived why he had been gagged by the Mexican. And beneath the raging fury that the taunts and threats roused in him, beneath wonder that on the lips of such a man he should find the smart sayings of the radicals of New York's East Side, slowly mounted a growing horror at the prospect. For he comprehended that this swarthy Mexican, whose cigarettes had such a queer and unholy odor, was a smoker of the marihuana weed—a monster beside whom the cocaine fiend was as a pale angel, a creature debased and degenerate whose one craving was for blood, for cruelty, for torture.

So the five riders passed through the hole in the wall, and came out upon the lonely starlit desert, and headed for the Pinecate mesa. And upon the hills the coyotes howled dismal orisons to the stars.