Robber's Roost (1989) (22 page)

"Ha!" Slocum let out a single sharp exclamation, impossible to designate as containing mirth or censure, yet which was certainly corroborative.

"Wal, I never give it no name," concluded Hays. "An' we'll let the future do thet. I'll gamble every dollar I got thet SOME outfit will last hyar twenty years. If Heeseman does for us, then Morley will do fer him. An' so it'll go. None of us will ever live to see cowboy posses ride into these brakes."

They left Jim on the bluff to keep the first watch.

"I'd like this job every day," he replied to jocular remarks.

"Shore you would, an' git out of real work. So would I. Haw!

Haw!"

Jim was well pleased to be left alone. The die was cast now. Hays had made his bed and must lie in it--no doubt to a last long bloody sleep. He had betrayed his loyal allies, not only in the matter of making way with the girl, but in regard to honest division of stolen gains. Jim had Miss Herrick's word as to the amount taken from her. It was a certainty that Hays had also robbed her brother. But he had not reported the truth as to amount; and this was another singular proof of the disintegration of the chief's character. Only by strict, fair dealings could he ever have gained the confidence and loyalty of that hardened crew.

In all likelihood Sparrowhawk Latimer was aware of this omission on the chief's part, for men of his type were not easily fooled.

Probably he had been bribed to keep his mouth shut. Jim resolved to lose no time being kind and thoughtful to the wounded man.

Whatever there was to learn, Jim meant to learn. Latimer was seriously ill. Presently the outfit would begin to gamble and then for them the hours would pass as moments.

There was a round depression on the mound-like eminence of the bluff, and it made a comfortable seat. It would be very hot here in midsummer, but a sunshade of some sort could be erected. Today the sun felt good.

He could see the men with his naked eye, and with the field-glass he could almost read their thoughts. How much more jealously and savagely could he now watch Hays than if he were below! It was an unique situation, but devastating. Jim had nothing to hide up there.

Notwithstanding the cue he had for passion, he did not neglect exercising the requirements of a good scout. And presently he applied himself to a careful study of his surroundings. The horses grazed in the valley below, between him and the camp, and in all probability they would stay there indefinitely. As summer advanced with warm rains, the valley would grow more and more luxuriant.

Horses used to the barrens would have to be dragged away. That disposed of the all-important necessity of having the animals close.

To the north and west the whorls of red rock dominated the scene, but there were many grassy plots and meadows and valleys down in between. The main canyon, an extension of Hays' retreat, ran for miles, to widen and grade out on the western horizon. Jim espied innumerable rabbits, some coyotes, and many antelopes. That country to the west must be a paradise for the fleet-footed, white- rumped deer of the plains. There was no evidence of water in that direction.

To the south and east spread the brakes, and it was one white slash, red slash, gray slash, yellow slash after another, clear to the dark slopes that formed the base of the mighty Henrys, black and deceiving, their peaks lost in the clouds. Only a blue, faintly streaked gulf marked the zone of the canyon country, of which the Dirty Devil brakes were merely the stepping-off point.

Jim remembered the great, dim cliffs glancing down from Wild Horse Mesa. They would be thousands of feet in depth and all sheer rock; the walls of the brakes were mostly clay, loam, gravel, and only hundreds of feet at their deepest. Still they were forbidding, and inaccessible except to the most desperate and resourceful of men.

What would Heeseman's persistent pursuit of Hays mean, provided it were persistent? That chase and attack of the other day did not amount to much. Riders without pack-animals could easily have made that. But if Heeseman made a long pursuit of it his motive would be either revenge or money, very likely both. Jim had divined in Heeseman a strong antipathy for Hays, something born far back in the past. Jim rather inclined to Lincoln's skepticism and looked for further dealings with Heeseman.

While Jim's thoughts ran in this fashion, skipping from one aspect to another, his keen manipulation of the field-glass followed suit.

He would study the white-ridged draw by which Hays had entered the hole, and try to follow its devious wanderings till he lost it in the brakes. He would bend his magnified sight upon the dark seamed gorge heading under the terrace of cottonwoods. And the two other exits to that rendezvous came in for their share of attention. In this way he gradually became acquainted with them. And after each survey he would shift the glass back to the oval bowl where the robbers were at work.

Some were carrying water, brush, stones, while others were digging post-holes. Hays was apparently a mason, for at once he began to lay a square fireplace of flat stones. The stone, sand, water were fetched to him, but he did the building himself. An hour or so after the start, the square grate appeared to be completed, and the chimney was going up. Four cottonwoods formed the four corner posts of the shack. Poles of the same wood were laid across for beams. Probably Hays would construct a roof of brush, and give it pitch enough so that the rain water would run off.

That growing structure became fascinating to Jim Wall. What was going to happen in it? Three times Hays left off work to walk across the green to the tent where Miss Herrick kept herself. No doubt the robber called to her. The third time he peeped in.

"Go in, you ---- scurvy bloodhound!" ejaculated Jim, fiercely.

There was a hot joy at the ring of his words in his ears. He need not even deceive himself. He could roar like a bull if he wished.

But Hays did not attempt to enter the tent. Certain it was, however, that he glanced back to see if any of his men were watching him. They were, though perhaps to his estimate not at all obtrusively. Jim, however, with the strong field-glass, could actually catch the expression on their faces. Smoky spoke to Lincoln, and with a suggestive jerk of his head toward Hays and the tent added a volume of meaning. Then Hays retraced his steps back to the job.

The sun grew hot, and when it reached the zenith Hays and his gang suspended their labors for a while. The others gathered at the shelter, evidently eating and drinking. Presently Latimer appeared, coming out of the cottonwoods, and he walked unsteadily across to the group. One of them came out to help him. They spent an hour, perhaps, under Happy Jack's shelter. All this morning no sign of life from the tent!

Long after noonday, and when Jim had spent at least six hours on watch, Jeff Bridges detached himself from his comrades and laboriously made his way out the west entrance and up the long, gray-green slope to the red bluff, upon the top of which Jim was stationed.

Jeff was a heavy man, not used to climbing on foot. His red face was wet with sweat. "Jim, we 'most forgot you," he panted, good- naturedly. "The boss had us--a-goin'. He's shore--enthusiastic over makin' a roost of thet hole!"

Jim relinquished the glass and his seat to Bridges. "I don't mind," he said. "Sort of like it up here." He left and made his way leisurely down off the smooth red ledges to the slope, and eventually to the valley floor. Cottontail rabbits scurried out from under his feet, to crouch in the grass or under a bush not far off. Jim drew his gun, and selecting a favorable shot he put out the eye of a rabbit; and presently he repeated the performance.

With the rabbits dangling, one from each hand, he turned into the oval, amused to find not a single man in sight. They had heard his shots and had taken to cover.

As he approached, one by one they reappeared, out of the earth it looked to Jim, and when he reached Happy's camp-site they were all back.

"Huh! You scared the very hell out of us," declared Hays, forcibly. "How'n hell could we know you was shootin' rabbits?"

"Young rabbit for supper won't go bad," rejoined Jim.

"They shore won't," agreed Smoky. "Lemme see, Jim." He took the rabbits and examined them. "Look ahyar, Brad. He shot the eye out of both of them."

"Durned if he didn't," said Brad, enthusiastically. "How fer away, Jim?"

"I didn't step it off. Reckon one was about twenty paces and the other farther," returned Jim, stretching the truth a little. He knew such men, how their morbid minds centered about certain things.

"Ahuh. You're a poor shot," declared Lincoln.

"Hank, fer Gawd's sake don't let's give Jim a chanct to shoot at us!" ejaculated Smoky, with a loud laugh.

The robber chieftain did not see any levity in the circumstance.

"Hell, no. We don't want Jim shootin' at us any more'n he wants us shootin' at him." That was a distinction with a difference. But Smoky was sincere, Lincoln was dubious, and Hays was deceitful.

"Fellows, make all the fun you want out of my perfectly good intention of supplying meat for supper," he said, genially. "But don't joke about my shooting. I'm sensitive."

"Can you hit a bottle in the air?" queried Smoky.

"I wouldn't if it was full."

"Aw, no foolin'. Can you, Jim?"

"Whenever you want to bet, come on."

"Hey, save your ammunition, you cowboys," interrupted Hays, gruffly. "We'll git all the shootin' you want, mebbe. . . . Jim, take a snack of grub, an' then come to work with us."

Chapter
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While they were at it Smoky suggested they erect a sun and rain shelter for the prisoner, and Jim casually seconded the proposition. Hays consented with a bad grace. So before dark they built one for Miss Herrick that would add materially to her comfort.

"Reckon this cottonwood grove is her private grounds, fellers," added Smoky.

In the main they were kindly disposed and amenable. Lincoln's bitterness toward the chief, however, rather augmented, if anything. He said, "I got it figgered thet Hank reckoned this grove was HIS private grounds."

"Wal, he figgered wrong, then," snapped Smoky. "It ain't no fault of ourn if this gurl is hyar. But since she is, we'll see she gets treated like a lady."

That was strong speech, yet passed over by Hays. He had resourcefulness, after he had accomplished his design in getting the girl there.

The shelter extended from the edge of the grove, where her tent stood, out far enough to permit of other conveniences. A tiny stream ran out from under the trees. Jim banked it up with clean red rocks, forming a fine little pool of clear cold water. Smoky, who had skill and artistry, deftly fashioned a rude armchair, which, when covered with saddle-blankets, made an acceptable chair.

Hays, not to be wholly outdone, cut and carried a great armload of ferns.

"Come out, miss," he called into the tent. "We're makin' you comfortable. An' heah's some ferns to put under your bed."

Helen emerged quickly enough, her eyes suspiciously red, but that did not mar the flash of them. Jim tried to turn away, only he could not. Hays carried the bundle of ferns inside and spread them out.

"I'll make my bed, please," she called, impatiently, whereupon the robber chief crawled from the tent.

"Hays, am I to gather from this kindly service that my enforced stay here with you will be indefinite?" she queried.

"Wal, it looks like thet. But what else can I do?" returned Hays, avoiding her gaze.

"You can send Jim Wall and another of your men back to Star Ranch.

I'll write a letter to my brother to pay and ask no questions nor make any moves."

"Shore I reckon Jim would go. It's easy to see thet. But none of my regular men would risk it," returned Hays.

"There's a better way, Hank," spoke up Smoky. "Send Jim an' me back with the girl. If she'll promise 't we'll get the money."

"I give my word," swiftly agreed Miss Herrick.

"It ain't to be thought of," returned the robber, dryly.

Jim watched his opportunity to give Helen a warning look when Hays could not see. She had forgotten his cautioning her. And that halted whatever retort she had on her lips. Smoky, however, was making good Jim's estimate of him--that he was deep, and would answer unexpectedly to any situation.

"Hell you say, Hank. It IS to be thought of," he rejoined, coolly.

"You nor nobody else can think my thoughts."

"Wal, I mean I'M not thinkin' that way, an' as I'm boss of this outfit, what I say goes. Do you savvy?"

"Shore. Thet's short an' sweet."

"Wal then, let's have no more to say. When it suits me--which is when it's safe to send fer thet ransom money--I'll do it, an' not before."

He stalked away toward the cook shelter, evidently to secure a bucket and basin for Miss Herrick. Happy Jack loudly disclaimed any intention of letting go any of his few and precious utensils.

Jim heard the chief say: "Wal, at thet she don't need a bucket.

Them two lady-killers dammed up the brook for her. I'll take a basin an' call it square."

During this interval Helen had appealed to Jim with eyes so eloquent of fear and hope that he almost threw up his hands in despair.