The Complete Dan Barry Chronicles (All 4 Westerns in One Edition). Max Brand

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СКАЧАТЬ that the straight dope you give Shorty?"

      "Straighter'n hell. They're beginnin' to talk, but I guess I was jest sort of panicky when I talked with Shorty."

      "This Tex Calder—"

      "What about him?" This with a trace of suspicion.

      "He's got a long record."

      "So've you, Jim."

      Once more that wolflike grin which had no mirth.

      "So long, Lee. I'll be on the job. Lay to that."

      He turned towards the door. Hardy followed him. A moment more, in a single word, and the job would be done. Five thousand dollars for a single word! It warmed the very heart of Lee Hardy.

      Silent, as he moved away, seemed singularly thoughtful. He hesitated a moment with bowed head at the door—then whirled and shoved a six-gun under the nose of Hardy. The latter leaped back with his arms thrust above his head, straining at his hands to get them higher.

      "My God, Jim!"

      "You're a low-down, lyin' hound!"

      Hardy's tongue clove to the roof of his mouth.

      "Damn you, d'you hear me?"

      "Yes! For God's sake, Jim, don't shoot!"

      "Your life ain't worth a dime!"

      "Give me one more chance an' I'll play square!"

      A swift change came over the face of Silent, and then Hardy went hot with terror and anger. The long rider had known nothing. The gun play had been a mere bluff, but he had played into the hands of Silent, and now his life was truly worth nothing.

      "You poor fool," went on Silent, his voice purring with controlled rage. "You damn blind fool! D'you think you could double cross me an' get by with it?"

      "Give me a chance, Jim. One more chance, one more chance!"

      Even in his terror he remembered to keep his voice low lest those in the front room should hear.

      "Out with it, if you love livin'!"

      "I—I can't talk while you got that gun on me!"

      Silent not only lowered his gun, but actually returned it to the holster. Nothing could more clearly indicate his contempt, and Hardy, in spite of his fear, crimsoned with shame.

      "It was Tex Calder," he said at last.

      Silent started a little and his eyes narrowed again.

      "What of him?"

      "He came here a while ago an' tried to make a deal with me."

      "An' made it!" said Silent ominously.

      No gun pointed at him this time, but Hardy jerked his hands once more above his head and cowered against the wall.

      "So help me God he didn't, Jim."

      "Get your hands down."

      He lowered his hands slowly.

      "I told him I didn't know nothin' about you."

      "What about that train? What about that shipment?"

      "It's jest the way I told you, except that it's on the eighteenth instead of the nineteenth."

      "I'm goin' to believe you. If you double cross me I'll have your hide. Maybe they'll get me, but there'll be enough of my boys left to get you. You can lay to that. How much did they offer you, Lee? How much am I worth to the little old U.S.A.?"

      "I—I—it wasn't the money. I was afraid to stick with my game any longer."

      The long rider had already turned towards the door, making no effort to keep his face to the agent. The latter, flushing again, moved his hand towards his hip, but stopped the movement. The last threat of Silent carried a deep conviction with it. He knew that the faith of long riders to each other was an inviolable bond. Accordingly he followed at the heels of the other man into the outside room.

      "So long, old timer," he called, slapping Silent on the shoulder, "I'll be seein' you ag'in before long."

      Calder's men looked up with curious eyes. Hardy watched Silent swing onto his horse and gallop down the street. Then he went hurriedly back to his office. Once inside he dropped into the big swivel-chair, buried his face in his arms, and wept like a child.

      12. PARTNERS

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      Dust powdered his hat and clothes as Tex Calder trotted his horse north across the hills. His face was a sickly grey, and his black hair might have been an eighteenth century wig, so thoroughly was it disguised. It had been a long ride. Many a long mile wound back behind him, and still the cattle pony, with hanging head, stuck to its task. Now he was drawing out on a highland, and below him stretched the light yellow-green of the willows of the bottom land. He halted his pony and swung a leg over the horn of his saddle. Then he rolled a cigarette, and while he inhaled it in long puffs he scanned the trees narrowly. Miles across, and stretching east and west farther than his eye could reach, extended the willows. Somewhere in that wilderness was the gang of Jim Silent. An army corps might have been easily concealed there.

      If he was not utterly discouraged in the beginning of his search, it was merely because the rangers of the hills and plains are taught patience almost as soon as they learn to ride a horse. He surveyed the yellow-green forest calmly. In the west the low hanging sun turned crimson and bulged at the sides into a clumsy ellipse. He started down the slope at the same dog-trot which the pony had kept up all day. Just before he reached the skirts of the trees he brought his horse to a sudden halt and threw back his head. It seemed to him that he heard a faint whistling.

      He could not be sure. It was so far off and unlike any whistling he had ever heard before, that he half guessed it to be the movement of a breeze through the willows, but the wind was hardly strong enough to make this sound. For a full five minutes he listened without moving his horse. Then came the thing for which he waited, a phrase of melody undoubtedly from human lips.

      What puzzled him most was the nature of the music. As he rode closer to the trees it grew clearer. It was unlike any song he had ever heard. It was a strange improvisation with a touch of both melancholy and savage exultation running through it. Calder found himself nodding in sympathy with the irregular rhythm.

      It grew so clear at last that he marked with some accuracy the direction from which it came. If this was Silent's camp, it must be strongly guarded, and he should approach the place more cautiously than he could possibly do on a horse. Accordingly he dismounted, threw the reins over the pony's head, and started on through the willows. The whistling became louder and louder. He moved stealthily from tree to tree, for he had not the least idea when he would run across a guard. The whistling ceased, but the marshal was now so near that he could follow the original direction without much trouble. In a few moments he might distinguish the sound of voices. If there were two or three men in the camp he might be able to surprise СКАЧАТЬ