Nevada (1995) (38 page)

When they rode around a high green corner Jim gave vent to a
n
exclamation of utmost pleasure. The brake opened into an ova
l
valley surrounded by gray-cliffed, green-thicketed walls, risin
g
high. A level meadow, where horses and cows grazed in deep grass
,
ended in a low bench of land, upon which huge isolated pines an
d
spruces towered halfway to the rim. Two log cabins stoo
d
picturesquely at the edge of this rise of ground. In th
e
background a corral and barn, with logs awry and roof caved in
,
showed half hidden in a blaze of golden aspens.

"Here's where the Hatts hang out," remarked Burridge. "It's like
a
fox den, with two holes. The one we just came down, an' a pas
s
below where a couple of good shots could stave off all the cowboy
s
in Arizona."

"Beautiful!" ejaculated Jim, charmed out of his usual reserve.

"I've been here often. Once tried to buy the place from Hatt. No
t
much."

"What do these Hatts live on?" queried Jim, gazing round.

"Meat an' beans an' corn meal. An' they make their own whiskey.

If you take a swill of that it'll knock you flat."

"How many women-folks?"

"Only the kid--Rose. There was a woman here, a while back, wife o
f
one of the boys, I heard. But I never saw her. . . . Well, ol
d
sharp-eyed Elam sees us already. He's comin' out with a gun."

The riders in advance drove the pack horses up on the bench, an
d
followed to dismount. Burridge, arrived a little in advance o
f
Jim. The old mountaineer, Hatt, stood shaggy-headed, with a smil
e
of welcome on his craggy face.

"Howdy, Elam! Did you get word I was comin'?"

"Yep, but never expected you so soon."

"Shake hands with Jim Lacy," went on Burridge, laconically.

"Howdy, sir! Reckon you ain't no stranger, by name," responde
d
Hatt, offering his hand.

Lacy leaned off his horse to accept Hatt's advance. "Shore glad t
o
meet you, Elam," he drawled. "Reckon I fell in love with you
r
homestead, heah. An' I'll hang around till you kick me out."

"Welcome you air," said Hatt, genially. "We keep open house fe
r
our friends. Git down an' come in."

Burridge made no offer to introduce Jim to the other Hatts present
,
though he called them by name, Tobe and Henny. Cedar Hatt did no
t
put in an appearance, nor did Lacy's quick eye sight the girl--

Rose.

"Throw yer packs back in the grove," said Hatt. "Jest turn you
r
hosses loose. Never yit had a hoss leave hyar."

While pack and saddle horses were led back toward the aspen grov
e
Elam Hatt walked with Burridge, while the two sons followed. Lac
y
did not need more than a casual glance at Elam to define hi
s
status. He was a rough, sturdy backwoodsman who had, no doubt
,
lived by hunting until an easier vocation had presented with th
e
ranging of cattle along the Mogollons. The two sons, however
,
exhibited nothing to impress favorably. They were uncouth
,
unshaven louts with bad teeth and pale eyes, and faces tha
t
indicated very low mentality. Lacy's advent manifestly did no
t
cause them either apprehension or interest. Tobe was barefooted.

Henny leaned on a short carbine, worn shiny from long service.

"Where's Cedar?" inquired Burridge, casually.

"He's hyarabouts somewhere," replied Elam. "He seen you fust."

"Hope Cedar won't take exception to our comin'."

"No tellin' what Cedar'll take," replied Hatt, with a grin. "Bu
t
I'm right glad to see you. I'm wantin' news. Make yourself t
o
home. I'll go an' see about grub. . . . Tobe, whar's you
r
sister?"

"I dunno," replied the son.

"Find her, you terbaccer-chewin' cub," returned Hatt, and strod
e
away toward the cabins.

Tobe Hatt might never have heard his father, for all the attentio
n
he paid to the order. Instead he gravitated toward Lacy.

"Got any smokin'?" he asked.

"Shore. Help yourself there in my saddlebag," replied Lacy.

The other young Hatt, Henny, now moved out of his tracks, an
d
dragging the rifle butt over the ground, he joined Tobe in a searc
h
of Lacy's saddlebag. Finding the tobacco, they availed themselve
s
of Lacy's offer. They took it all.

"Cash, where you goin' to bunk?" asked Lacy, presently.

"Right here in the aspens. Good a place as any. Elam will offe
r
the loft of the big cabin, but I'd just as lief be out."

"Wal, I'd a good deal rather," drawled Jim. "Cabin lofts are ful
l
of dirt, spiders, centipedes an' smoke. I'll throw my outfi
t
somewhere aboot."

"Make it within call, Jim," replied Burridge, not withou
t
significance.

Jim sat down, ostensibly to mend one of his stirrups, but as
a
matter of fact he did not care to pick out his bed site under th
e
pale eyes of these degenerate Hatt boys. He could peer through th
e
eyes of men to their minds. Either Tobe or Henny would commi
t
murder for a sack of tobacco. Jim decided he would carry his be
d
to a secluded place in the brush and change that place every night.

With covert glances he watched the Hatt boys and also kept
a
lookout for Rose.

"Wal, fellars, what about goin' on with our little game?" inquire
d
Hubrigg.

"Sure," replied Brann.

"I should smile," added Stagg, cheerfully.

Cash Burridge shook his head dubiously, but did not voice hi
s
opinion until the Hatt boys had ambled off out of hearing.

"Say, men, I don't want to be a kill-joy, but honest I question th
e
sense of showin' all that money here."

"Why not?" asked Hubrigg.

"It might not be safe. We don't belong to this Hatt outfit. The
y
could have this canyon 'most full of backwoodsmen in no time.

There's only six of us."

"Wal, listen to him!" ejaculated Brann. "You got it wrong, Cash.

There's five of us, an' Jim Lacy!"

"I just don't think it's wise," added Burridge, stubbornly
,
ignoring the sarcasm.

"We may have to hang around here for a week or more," spoke u
p
Stagg. "What'll we do? If we can't gamble we might as well no
t
have any money."

"Jim, what do you say?" asked Burridge, in perplexity.

"Wal, seein' that money changes hands so often, I reckon nobody'
d
miss it if the Hatts did get it," chuckled Jim.

"Haw! Haw!" roared Cash, slapping his knee.

"Miss it!" ejaculated Brann, evidently affronted with catastrophe.

"Say, I look on thet pile as mine."

"Jim, you seem a nice fellar, with fun in your talk, but I'm sor
t
of doubtful about you," said Hubrigg, dubiously.

"How so?" queried Jim, pleasantly.

"Wal, I can't exactly explain. But when you talk lazy an' easy
,
like all you darn Texans, an' look some other way, I always fee
l
queer."

"Right you are. Our new member makes me feel like a fellar who'
s
runnin' like hell an' knows sure he's goin' to get the seat of hi
s
pants slung full of buckshot."

This from Brann indicated the slow progress of the rustlers towar
d
amity with Jim. They all laughed uproariously.

"Shore I must be a likable cuss to have round," declared Jim
,
presently. "I've a notion to get sore."

"Wal, for Gawd's sake, don't," burst out Brann. "Be a good fella
r
an' set in the game with us."

"I'd like to, for pastime, anyhow. But suppose I catch one of yo
u
manipulatin' the cairds?"

"Huh! Manip-oo-latin'? What's thet?"

"Brann, our friend Jim means slippin' aces off the bottom, holdin'
o
ut, stackin' the deck, an' a few other tricks gamblers have."

"Aw, I see. Wal, Jim has a right to holler when he ketches us
,
same as we when we ketch him doin' the same."

That sally elicited a yell from Brann's comrades.

"Jest so he hollers only with his mouth," shouted Stagg.

"All right, I'll set in a few hands," said Jim, good-naturedly.

"Anyway, till I'm broke."

"Jim, your credit is good in this outfit," interposed Cas
h
Burridge. "An', anyway, you'll have a gunny sack full of mone
y
before long."

Whereupon the rustlers, in high spirits, owing to being well fe
d
and flush with money, repaired to the shade of a pine in front o
f
Elam's cabin, and squatting round a blanket, emptied their pocket
s
of coin and bills. Jim joined them, choosing a seat from which h
e
could watch the cabins and the approach of anyone.

Bantering ceased abruptly the instant gambling began. And th
e
cares of rustlers, if they had any, vanished as if by magic.

The game was draw-poker, the stakes any amount a player chose t
o
wager, provided he produced it. Jim knew he could hold his ow
n
with these gamblers, but he preferred to lose the ill-gotten gain
s
Burridge had forced upon him as his share of their first rustlin
g
deal together. So Jim played recklessly, making his losses mor
e
than discount the ridiculously lucky cards he held at times. Hi
s
apparently casual glances at the cabin, however, were not few an
d
far between.

The Hatt boys came to watch the game, soon growing equally absorbe
d
with the gamblers; and it was noticeable to Jim that the
y
gravitated round the circle of players, wherever the gold coi
n
went. Old Elam came presently, and likewise fell to the attractio
n
of the game, but it seemed the playing itself rather than the sum
s
of money lost and won, that held charm for him.

Elam Hatt's house was one of the picturesque double-cabine
d
structures under one roof, with wide porch space between. The log
s
had been peeled. They were old and brown, rotting in places; th
e
sloping roof of split shingles had a covering of green moss an
d
pine needles; the rude stone chimney, built on the outside of th
e
right-hand cabin, had been repaired many times with yellow clay an
d
red adobe mud. The porch ran all along the front of both cabins
,
and one end was littered with saddles and packs. Deer and el
k
antlers on the walls supported rifles and bridles. A bearski
n
hide, not yet dried, hung nailed flesh side out, on the wall of th
e
left cabin. This was smaller than the other, evidently consistin
g
of only one room. The window, without glass or shutter, opene
d
toward Jim, who had been quick to see a face peer from the darknes
s
and draw back again.

When he caught sight of it again he knew at once that it belonge
d
to Rose Hatt and that she had espied him. She stood far back i
n
the gloom of the cabin, her face only a vague oval, but wit
h
staring eyes like black holes.