Nevada (1995) (49 page)

Hettie saw Ben's face in convulsion, his eyes shut tight, hi
s
expression one to bewilder the staring bystanders. To her it wa
s
beautiful and somehow soul-satisfying. Her eyes were dim, he
r
heart pounding.

"My old pard! Found at last! . . . Thank God!--I feared you wer
e
dead. . . . All these long years! But I hoped an' prayed. . . .

An' here you are. It's too good to be true. I reckon it's
a
dream. Say somethin' to me--you old wild-horse-huntin' pard.

Nevada!"

Ben held him back, hands on his shoulders, oblivious to all bu
t
that lean stone-gray face.

"Yes, Ben . . . Nevada to you--but to all the world--only Ji
m
Lacy," replied Nevada, sadly.

"WHAT?" cried Ben, with a violent start. Then his nervous quic
k
hands ran down to Nevada's irons. "God Almighty! . . . You Ji
m
Lacy?"

"Yes, to my shame--pard."

Ben's transition to reality was swift and passionate. Suddenl
y
white, with blazing eyes, he tore at Nevada's handcuffs. "I don'
t
care a damn who you were. You're Nevada to me--my friend--my pard.

An' so you'll be forever."

"Wal, Ben--it's shore good to heah you," replied Nevada, his voic
e
trailing off.

"Macklin, unlock these irons," ordered Ben.

"What? . . . But, Mr. Ide--he's my prisoner!" protested th
e
sheriff, aghast. "He's wanted for rustlin'. He killed you
r
foreman. The law--"

"To hell with your law!" interrupted Ben, fiercely. "Unlock hi
s
irons!"

"You hired us to ketch this man!"

"Quick. Before I throw my gun on you!"

His hand went to his hip. The crowd stirred with restless feet an
d
whispered exclamation. Tom Day stepped out to get between Mackli
n
and Ben.

"Easy now, Ben. Let old Tom have a word," he said, in his bi
g
voice, now full and resonant. "We've had enough gun-play for on
e
day. . . . Macklin, give me the keys to these irons."

The sheriff, red of face, flustered and intimidated, complied wit
h
poor grace. Day unlocked the irons, removed them, and somewha
t
with contempt cast them at Macklin's feet.

Nevada rubbed his wrists and then looked up to smile at Day.

"Put her thar, Texas Jack," boomed the old rancher, with
a
wonderful smile wreathing his rugged face. "We're shore from th
e
old Lone Star State. Let me be the first to shake the good righ
t
hand thet did for Dillon."

"Wal, Tom, shore you needn't rub it in," drawled Nevada, as h
e
yielded to the vigorous onslaught of the older man.

"Come heah, Franklidge," called Day, beckoning to the judge. "I
r
eckon it's aboot time."

Ben Ide stood motionless, his jaw dropping, his eyes expressive o
f
an incredulous wonder that he could not voice. His feeling wa
s
surely shared by others there. As for Hettie, she seemed to fee
l
her blood and brain whirl madly. Texas Jack! That warm, splendi
d
smile of the old rancher! Judge Franklidge moving forward wit
h
dignified step and grave, kindly face!

But the other black-garbed sheriff intercepted him.

"Mr. Ide, these are sure most extraordinary proceedings," he said
,
authoritatively.

"Hell, yes!" burst out Ben. "But it's an extraordinary case."

"The law must take its course. Even if this Jim Lacy was an ol
d
pard of yours, he's now a criminal. Reckon his gun-play was alway
s
on the level. But he's a cattle an' hoss thief. We set out t
o
hang the leader of this Pine Tree rustler outfit. Sure Lacy i
s
him. His killin' of Dillon proves that. If this is no hangin'
c
ase, it sure is one for jail."

"Struthers, I hired you to come up here," returned Ben
,
deliberately. "I admit I wanted Jim Lacy shot or hanged. But I'v
e
changed my mind. He's my friend. I owe my life, my fortune, m
y
family, all to him. There's some mystery--some mistake here.

That's for me to learn, an' not for you."

"All right. But I'll take Lacy to Phoenix for trial," replie
d
Struthers.

"If you do, it'll be over my dead body. Take care, Struthers.

This isn't Phoenix. You're up in the brakes."

Thus Ben Ide answered to his few months in Arizona. The situatio
n
looked grave again. But Judge Franklidge interposed to pus
h
Struthers back.

"You have no jurisdiction here unless I give it," he said. Then h
e
turned to Ben with courtly kindness. "My son, don't distres
s
yourself further. Just have a little patience."

"Patience!" ejaculated Ben, as if he had not heard arigh
t
Judge Franklidge advanced to place his left hand on Nevada'
s
shoulder and extended his right, which Nevada quickly met.

"Jack, you may be from Texas, as old Tom here brags, but you sur
e
belong to Arizona," he said, heartily.

"Wal, I should smile," corroborated Day, heartily.

Judge Franklidge turned to indicate in slight gesture the dead ma
n
on the ground.

"Dillon, of course, was the leader of this Pine Tree rustler gang,"
h
e asserted. "Otherwise you would not have risked revealin
g
yourself here?"

"Wal, reckon I wouldn't," replied Nevada, with a smile that held n
o
mirth.

"Dillon!" boomed Tom Day, his eyes rolling at the dead man. "Wh
o
was he, Jack?"

"Ed Richardson, late of New Mexico."

"Richardson? I know aboot him. Lincoln County war hombre? Bill
y
the Kid outfit?"

"That's the man, Tom."

"Wal, I'm a son-of-a-gun!" ejaculated the old rancher. "I begin t
o
see light. Dillon was thick with Stewart. An' Stewart neve
r
worked the same for me after Dillon became foreman heah at Ben's.

This mawnin' he was gone. An' he knowed where we was boun
d
for. . . . Jack, what you make of thet?"

"Stewart was one of the three Arizonians that Richardson took int
o
his New Mexican outfit."

"Ahuh! Who's the other two?"

"Burt Stillwell an' Cedar Hatt."

"Stillwell! . . . Jack, didn't you--meet thet hombre just lately?"
q
ueried Day, his eyes glinting.

"Yes. It was Stillwell who stole Ben's horse, California Red. I
m
ade him send Red back. Reckon that r'iled Stillwell. . . . An'

Marvie Blaine shot Cedar Hatt to-day. So the Pine Tree outfit i
s
shore broke."

Ben Ide, in bewildered state, crowded closer to the speakers.

"Marvie Blaine shot Cedar Hatt?" ejaculated Judge Franklidge.

"Good Lord!" added Day in his booming voice. "What next? Ben, yo
u
listenin' to all this?"

"Tom--I'm stumped," replied Ben, hoarsely.

"Spill it, Jack. Tell us about Marvie. Heaven help us now!" wen
t
on Day.

"I happened on Cedar Hatt to-day," replied Nevada. "He was ridin'
d
own in one of the brakes an' I was on top. Wal, I soon saw he wa
s
trailin' some one. So I worked ahaid an' got down off the Rim.

There I happened to run on Marvie an' his girl, Rose Hatt. The
y
were spoonin' under the trees an' never saw me. I was lookin' fo
r
Cedar an' I knew Cedar was lookin' for them. So I kept quiet.

Pretty soon Cedar slips up, right on to them. An' he begins t
o
rave. Rose talked back an' shore Marvie showed spunk. Ceda
r
knocked him down, an' then Rose, too. That riled Marvie an' h
e
tore into Cedar. It looked bad, with Cedar pullin' at his gun. H
e
got it out, but Marvie fought him for it. . . . An', wal, in th
e
fight Cedar dropped the gun an' Marvie quick as a cat snatched i
t
up. Usin' both hands, he throwed it on Cedar an' shore bored hi
m
twice."

"Whoop-ee!" yelled one of the cowboys at the back of the crowd.

"By thunder! I'd whoop myself if I had any voice left," returne
d
Tom Day. "Where's Marvie? Come heah, you gunslingin' kid!"

"Rose Hatt is heah, too," said Nevada. "An', Tom, it'd be wal fo
r
you an' Judge Franklidge to talk to her. Rose is a good hones
t
girl. Dillon was after her. An' Cedar Hatt had dragged Rose awa
y
from home to meet Dillon. That was how Rose found out aboot th
e
Pine Tree outfit. An' she confessed to me."

"Wal, I'll be darned!" replied Day, feelingly. "The lass looks
a
little scared an' white, Judge. I reckon we needn't heah her sa
y
now, in this crowd. But that kid Marvie--he shore don't loo
k
scared."

"Come here, my lad," called Judge Franklidge, beckoning.

Marvie slipped off his horse and stalked forward to confront th
e
three men. Hettie thrilled at sight of him, yet she could hav
e
wept and screamed with mirth. Marvie, if he were any character a
t
all, was surely Nevada. In look, in walk, in manner! He had a bi
g
black gun in his chaps pocket, and another smaller one in his belt.

What a moment for Marvie Blaine!

"Son, what's this we heah?" asked Day, bluntly. "Did you shoo
t
Cedar Hatt?"

"Reckon I did," replied Marvie. "Here's his gun. It happened jus
t
about as Nevada told you."

"Who's Nevada?"

Marvie laid a hand on his friend.

"Oho! You mean Jim Lacy heah?"

"No, I mean Nevada," replied the lad, stoutly. "That Jim Lac
y
handle doesn't go with me."

"Marvie, you speak for me," interposed Judge Franklidge. "He ma
y
indeed be Nevada and Jim Lacy. But for me he will always be Texa
s
Jack. He has worked for me for two years. And before that for To
m
Day. We found him to be the best cowboy who ever threw a rope fo
r
us. And more--a splendid honest man whom it is my privilege t
o
call friend--and whom I would be happy to take into my cattl
e
business."

"Hey, you sheriff rustlers," boomed Tom Day, with loud satisfaction
,
"did you heah that? Wal, listen to some more. Texas Jac
k
volunteered to clean up this Pine Tree outfit. He had my backin'.

He had Judge Franklidge's office behind him. He had free hand t
o
become a rustler an' thief, to drink an' gamble an' shoot his wa
y
into the secret of the Pine Tree outfit. Do you savvy? Or are yo
u
wearin' your hair too long? There won't be any arrest. There won'
t
be anyone danglin' on a rope."

Chapter
twenty-two.

Hettie lay upon her bed, face to the open window, with the coo
l
sweet sage-laden wind blowing in upon her. Dusk had fallen. Th
e
last rose and gold of the afterglow of sunset lingered in the west.

She never knew how she had gotten from Ben's courtyard to her room.