The Rangeland Avenger by Max Brand

  31

  Even though he was taken utterly by surprise, habit made Arizona go forhis own gun, as the sheriff whipped out his weapon. But under thoseconditions he was beaten badly to the draw. Before his weapon was halfout of the holster, the sheriff had the drop.

  Arizona paused, but, for a moment, his eyes fought Kern, figuringchances. It was only the hesitation of an instant. The battle was lostbefore it had begun, and Arizona was clever enough to know it. Swiftlyhe turned on a new tack. He shoved his revolver back into the holsterand smiled benevolently on the sheriff.

  "What's the new game, Kern?"

  "It ain't new," said the sheriff joylessly. "It's about the oldest gamein the world. Arizona, you sure killed Sandersen."

  "Sandersen?" Arizona laughed. "Why, man, I ain't hardly seen him morethan once. How come that I would kill him?"

  "Get your hands up, Arizona."

  "Oh, sure." He obeyed with apparent willingness. "But don't let anybodysee you making this fool play, sheriff."

  "Maybe not so foolish. I'll tell you why you killed him. You're broke,Arizona. Ten days ago Mississippi Slim cleaned you out at dice. Well,when Sinclair told me where Cold Feet was, you listened through thedoor, but you didn't stay to find out that Jig wasn't wanted no more.You beat it up to the mountain, and there you found Sandersen was aheadof your time. You drilled Sandersen, hoping to throw the blame on ColdFeet. Then you come down, but on the way Cold Feet gives you the slipand gets away. And that's why you're here."

  Arizona blinked. So much of this tale was true that it shook even hisiron nerve. He managed to smile.

  "That's a wild yarn, sheriff. D'you think it'll go down with a jury?"

  "It'll go down with any jury around these parts. What's more, Arizona,I ain't going to rest on what I think. I'm going to find out. And, if Isend down to the south inquiring about you, I got an idea that I'llfind out enough to hang ten like you, eh?"

  Once more Arizona received a vital blow, and he winced under theimpact. Moreover, he was bewildered. His own superior intelligence hadinclined him to despise the sheriff, whom he put down as a fellow ofmore bulldog power than mental agility. All in a moment it was beingborne in upon him that he had underrated his man. He could not answer.His smooth tongue was chained.

  "Not that I got any personal grudge agin' you," went on the sheriff,"but it's gents like you that I'm after, Arizona, and not one likeSinclair. You ain't clean, Arizona. You're slick, and they ain'telbowroom enough in the West for slick gents. Besides, you got a badway with your gun. I can tell you this, speaking private andconfidential, I'm going to hang you, Arizona, if there's any waypossible!"

  He said all this quietly, but the revolver remained poised withrocklike firmness. He drew out a pair of manacles.

  "Stand up, Arizona."

  Listlessly the fat man got up. He had been changing singularly duringthe last speech of the sheriff. Now he dropped a hand on the edge ofthe table, as if to support himself. The sheriff saw that hand grip thewood until the knuckles went white. Arizona moistened his colorlesslips.

  "Not the irons, sheriff," he said softly. "Not them!"

  If it had been any other man, Kern would have imagined that he waslosing his nerve; but he knew Arizona, had seen him in action, and hewas certain that his courage was above question. Consequently he wasamazed. As certainly as he had ever seen them exposed, these were thehorrible symptoms of cowardice that make a brave man shudder to see.

  "Can't trust you," he said wonderingly. "Wouldn't trust you a minute,Arizona, without the irons on you. You're a bad actor, son, and I'veseen you acting up. Don't forget that."

  "Sheriff, I give you my word that I'll go quiet as a lamb."

  A moment elapsed before Kern could answer, for the voice of Arizona hadtrembled as he spoke. The sheriff could not believe his ears.

  "Well, I'm sorry, Arizona," he said more gently, because he wasstriving to banish this disgusting suspicion from his own mind. "Ican't take no chances. Just turn around, will you. And keep them handsup!"

  He barked the last words, for the arms of Arizona had crooked suddenly.They stiffened at the sharp command of the sheriff. Slowly, trembling,as if they possessed a volition of their own hardly controlled by thefat man, those hands fought their way back to their former position,and then Arizona gradually turned his back on the sheriff. A convulsiveshudder ran through him as Kern removed his gun and then seized one ofthe raised hands, drew it down, and fastened one part of the iron onit. The other hand followed, and, as the sheriff snapped the lock, hesaw a singular transformation in the figure of his captive. Theshoulders of Arizona slouched forward, his head sank. From the erect,powerful figure of the moment before, he became, in comparison, aflabby pile of flesh, animated by no will.

  "What's the matter?" asked the sheriff. "You ain't lost your nerve,have you, Fatty?"

  Arizona did not answer. Kern stepped to one side and glanced at theface of his captive. It was strangely altered. The mouth had becometrembling, loose, uncertain. The head had fallen, and the bright, keeneyes were dull. The man looked up with darting side-glances.

  The sheriff stood back and wiped a sudden perspiration from hisforehead. Under his very eyes the spirit of this gunfighter wasdisintegrating. The sheriff felt a cold shame pour through him. Hewanted to hide this man from the eyes of the others. It was not rightthat he should be seen. His weakness was written too patently.

  Kern was no psychologist, but he knew that some men out of theirpeculiar element are like fish out of water. He shook his head.

  "Walk out that back door, will you?" he asked softly.

  "We ain't going down the street?" demanded Arizona.

  "No."

  "Thanks, sheriff."

  Again Kern shuddered, swallowed, and then commanded: "Start along,Arizona."

  Slinking through the door, the fat man hesitated on the little porchand cast a quick glance up and down.

  "No one near!" he said. "Hurry up, sheriff."

  Quickly they skirted down behind the houses--not unseen, however. Asmall boy playing behind his father's house raised his head to watchthe hurrying pair, and when he saw the glitter of the irons, they heardhim gasp. He was old enough to know the meaning of that. Irons onArizona, who had been a town hero the night before! They saw theyoungster dart around the house.

  "Blast him!" groaned Arizona. "He'll spread it everywhere. Hurry!"

  He was right. The sheriff hurried with a will, but, as they crossed thestreet for the door of the jail, voices blew down to them. Lookingtoward the hotel, they saw men pouring out into the street, pointing,shouting to one another. Then they swept down on the pair.

  But the sheriff and his prisoner gained the door of the jail first, andKern locked it behind him. His deputy on guard rose with a start, andat the same time there was a hurried knocking on the door and a clamorof voices without. Arizona shrank away from that sound, scowling overhis shoulder, but the sheriff nodded good-humoredly.

  "Take it easy, Arizona. I ain't going to make a show of you!"

  "Sure, that's like you, sheriff," said a hurried, half-whining voice."You're square. I'll sure show you one of these days now I appreciatethe way you treat me!"

  Kern was staggered. It seemed to him that a new personality had takenpossession of the body of the fat man. He led the way past his gapingdeputy. The jail was not constructed for a crowd. It was merely atemporary abiding place before prisoners were taken to the largerinstitution at Woodville. Consequently there was only one big cell. Thesheriff unlocked the door, slipped the manacles from the wrists ofArizona, and jabbed the muzzle of a revolver into his back!

  The last act was decidedly necessary, for the moment his wrists werereleased from the grip of the steel, Arizona twitched halfway roundtoward the sheriff. The scrape of the gunmuzzle against his ribs,however, convinced him. Over his shoulder he cast one murderous glanceat the sheriff and then slouched forward into the cell.

  "Company for you, Riley," said the sheriff, as the tall cowpuncherrose.
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  The other's back was turned, and thereby the sheriff was enabled topass a significant gesture and look to Sinclair. With that he leftthem. In the outer room he found his deputy much alarmed.

  "You ain't turned them two in together?" he asked. "Why, Sinclair'llkill that gent in about a minute. Ain't it Arizona that nailed him?"

  "Sinclair will play square," Kern insisted, "and Arizona won't fight!"

  Leaving the other to digest these mysterious tidings, the sheriff wentout to disperse the crowd.

  In the meantime Sinclair had received the newcomer in perfect silence,his head raised high, his thin mouth set in an Ugly line--very much asan eagle might receive an owl which floundered by mistake onto the samecrag, far above his element. The eagle hesitated between scorn of thevisitor and a faint desire to pounce on him and rend him to pieces.That glittering eye, however, was soon dull with wonder, when hewatched the actions of Arizona.

  The fat man paused in the center of the cell, regarded Sinclair with asingle flash of the eyes, and then glanced uneasily from side to side.That done, he slipped away to a corner and slouched down on a stool,his head bent down on his breast.

  Apparently he had fallen into a profound reverie, but Sinclair foundthat the eyes of Arizona continually whipped up and across to him. Oncethe newcomer shifted his position a little, and Sinclair saw him testthe weight of the stool beneath him with his hand. Even in the cellArizona had found a weapon.

  Gradually Sinclair understood the meaning of that glance and thegesture of the sheriff, as the latter left; he read other things in thegray pallor of Arizona, and in the fallen head. The man was unnerved.Sinclair's reaction was very much what that of the sheriff had been--asinking of the heart and a momentary doubt of himself. But he wassomething more of a philosopher than Kern. He had seen more of life andmen and put two and two together.

  One thing stared him plainly in the face. The Arizona who skulked inthe corner had relapsed eight years. He was the same sneak thief whomSinclair had first met in the lumber camp, and he knew instinctivelythat this was the first time since that unpleasant episode that Arizonahad been cornered. The loathing left Sinclair, and in its place camepity. He had no fondness of Arizona, but he had seen him in the role ofa strong man, which made the contrast more awful. It reminded Sinclairof the wild horse which loses its spirit when it is broken. Such wasArizona. Free to come and go, he had been a danger. Shut up helplesslyin a cell, he was as feeble as a child, and his only strength was asort of cunning malice. Sinclair turned quietly to the fat man.

  "Arizona," he said, "you look sort of underfed today. Bring your stoola bit nearer and let's talk. I been hungry for a chat with someone."

  In reply Arizona rolled back his head and for a moment glaredthoughtfully at Sinclair. He made no answer. Presently his glance fell,like that of a dog. Sinclair shivered. He tried brutality.

  "Looks to me, Arizona, as though you'd lost your nerve."

  The other moistened his lips, but said nothing.

  "But the point is," said the tall cowpuncher, "that you've given upbefore you're beaten."

  Riley Sinclair's words brought a flash from Arizona, a sudden liftingof the head, as if he had not before thought of hoping. Then he beganto slump back into his former position, without a reply. Sinclairfollowed his opening advantage at once.

  "What you in for?"

  "Murder!"

  "Great guns! Of whom?"

  "Sandersen."

  It brought Sinclair stiffly to his feet. Sandersen! His trail wasended; Hal was avenged at last!

  "And you done it? Fatty, you took that job out of my hands. I'mthanking you. Besides, it ain't nothing to be downhearted about.Sandersen was a skunk. Can they prove it on you?"

  The need to talk overwhelmed Arizona. It burst out of him, not toSinclair, but rather at him. His shifting eyes made sure that no onewas near.

  "Kern is going to send south for the dope. I'm done for. They can hangme three times on what they'll learn, and--"

  "Shut up," snapped Sinclair. "Don't talk foolish. The south is atolerable big place to send to. They don't know where you come from.Take 'em a month to find out, and by that time, you won't be at hand."

  "Eh?"

  "Because you and me are going to bust out of this paper jail they got!"

  He had not the slightest hope of escape. But he tried the experiment ofthat suggestion merely to see what the fat man's reaction would be. Theresult was more than he could have dreamed. Arizona whirled on him witheyes ablaze.

  "What d'you mean, Sinclair?"

  "Just what I say. D'you think they can keep two like us in here? No,not if you come to your old self."

  The need to confide again fell on Arizona. He dragged his stool nearer.His voice was a whisper.

  "Sinclair, something's busted in me. When them irons grabbed my armsthey took everything out of me. I got no chance. They got me cornered."

  "And you'll fight like a wildcat to the end of things. Sure you will!Buck up, man! You think you've turned yaller. You ain't. You're justout of place. Take a gent that's used to a forty-foot rope and a pony,give him sixty feet on a sixteen-hand hoss, and ain't he out of place?Sure! He looks like a clumsy fool. And the other way around it worksthe same way. A trout may be a flash of light in water, but on dry landhe ain't worth a damn. Same way with you, Fatty. While you got a freefoot you're all right, but when they put you behind a wall and saythey're going to keep you there, you darned near bust down. Why?Because it looks to you like you ain't got a chance to fight back. Soyou quit altogether. But you'll come back to yourself, Arizona. You--"

  Arizona raised his hand. He was sitting erect now, drinking in thewords of Sinclair, as if they were air to a stifling man. His faceworked.

  "Why are you doing this for me, Sinclair--after I landed you here?"

  "Because I made a man out of you once," answered the tall man evenly,"and I ain't going to see you backslide. Why, Arizona, you're one ofthe fastest-thinkin', quickest-handed gents that ever buckled on a gun,and here you are lying down like a kid that ain't never faced troublebefore. Come alive, man. You and me are going to bust this ol' jail tosmithereens, and when we get outside I'll blow your head off if I can!"

  Riley's words had carried Arizona with him. Suddenly an olive-skinnedhand shot out and clutched his own bony, strong fingers. The hand wasfat and cold, but it gripped that of Riley Sinclair with a desperateenergy.

  "Sinclair, you mean it? You'll play in with me?"

  "I will--sure!"

  He had to drag the words out, but after he had spoken he was glad. Newlife shone in the face of Arizona.

  "A man with you for a partner ain't done, Sinclair--not if he had arope around his neck. Listen! D'you know why I come in town?"

  "Well?"

  "To get you out."

  "I believe you, Arizona," lied Sinclair.

  "Not for your sake--but hers."

  Sinclair's face suddenly went white.

  "Who?"

  "The girl!" whispered Arizona. "I cached her away outside of town towait for--us! Sinclair, she loves you."

  Riley Sinclair sat as one stunned and dragged the hat from his head.