'We're here to see justice done, Sark,' one of them said. 'But we ain't Injuns, an' won't stand for torture.'
'An' I don't reckon that Pinetown has the say-so in these proceedin's neither,' another added, a sentiment whichbrought a still blacker look to Javert's damaged countenance, but was promptly taken up and repeated.
More joined in, and the argument as to whether a man should die slowly or quickly became general.
Chapter VII
SHORTLY after the band of self-appointed executioners had departed on its grisly errand, a solitary horseman loped into Welcome. Young, attired in range-rig, with a good-humoured, not unpleasing face, there was nothing remarkable about him save his pallor, unusual in a land of sunburnt skins. At Gowdy's store he dismounted, entered, and asked for 'smokin'.'
'This is the most lonesome place I've struck,' he remarked. 'Yu ain't the on'y inhabitant, are yu?'
'All the men are gone to the lynchin', I s'pose,' Lucy told him, with a feminine shudder. 'Beasts, I call them.' The visitor stared at her. 'Yu don't say. Who they string-in' up, an' whyfor?'
'Our new marshal,' she said. 'They say he shot a man.'
'Well, a marshal has to do that--times. I ain't never seen a hangin'. Where's it takin' place?'
'On the road to the west--there's no trees here.'
'What had the dead man done?'
'I don't know--it happened a long ways off, before the marshal came here.' Her eyes filled. 'You see, it was owin' to me he got the job. If I hadn't told him of the vacancy maybe ... Oh, it's too bad. I can see him now, ridin' up to the Red Light on that great black horse.'
'A black hoss?' the cowboy cried. 'With a white face?'
'Why, yes, do you ?'
'Hell's flames ! ' he swore, and darted for the street.
leaving his purchase and the dollar he had put down in payment lying on the counter.
Amazement held her for a moment, then she ran to the door, only to see a diminishing cloud of dust travelling west.
'He must be awful anxious to see a hangin',' she decided.
In this she did the young man an injustice, for that was precisely what he fervently desired not to see. Therefore he plied spurs and quirt--though not cruelly--in the effort to drag a little more speed from his tired mount.
'Which I'm shorely sorry, Splinter, but we just gotta make it,' he panted. 'O' course, he may've sold his hoss, but no, he'd never part with Nigger.' Soon they sighted the tree, and the black knot of people. A decision had been arrived at--Javert's inhuman proposal had found few supporters, and Sudden was to die only once.
'Someone a'comin' an' ain't losin' time neither,' Dutch called out.
Jake glanced down the trail; one man only, but he was taking no chances. 'Haul on that rope,' he ordered.
The burly fellow holding it was bracing himself to obey when a hard round object was jammed into the small of his back and a harsh voice whispered, 'If you do, you'll die before he does.' A half turn of the head told him that the owner of the Red Light was standing behind him, and being well aware that Nippert was no bluffer, he froze. Before Jake could investigate, the newcomer arrived, leapt from the saddle, and shouldered his way unceremoniously through the onlookers.
'Jim ! ' he cried.
Sudden stared at him in utter bewilderment, unable to believe his eyes. The face of one other betrayed a like incredulity, that of Javert, who gazed open-mouthed at this man who had apparently risen from the grave to defeat him.
'Dave,' the marshal breathed. 'It can't be--yo're dead.'
'Not very,' the other returned lightly.
'But--I killed yu.'
'Skittles! It was a pore shot--on'y creased me.' Hepushed his hat back, showing a scarcely-healed wound along the side of his head. 'I didn't bat an eyelid for most twenty-four hours--concussion, the doc said. Soon as I was able to climb a hoss, I set out in search o' yu, an' I seem to 'a' got here at the right moment.' He stepped to the condemned man and lifted the loop from his neck.
'Who the devil are you to come buttin' into our business?' Mullins rasped.
The young man grinned at him. 'I'm Dave Masters, the corpse in this case, an' if anybody wants to argue, he'll find me the livest corpse he ever tackled.' The challenge passed unheeded, but Nippert joined the two men beneath the tree. 'Here's yore belt, marshal,' he said. 'Mebbe you'll feel more comfortable wearin' it.' The act aroused Sark's malignity. 'Hold on there,' he growled. 'We've on'y got this fella's word that he's Masters.' The cowboy's face grew bleak. 'I'll remember that, Mister Whatever-yore-name-is,' he retorted, and looked around. 'Ask the skunk who came to yu with a lyin' tale to hang the man he had failed to murder; there he stands--Javert; he's the one yu oughta swing.' A threatening murmur warned the Pinetown citizen that he might be in danger-- mobs were mercurial, easily swayed. In his anxiety to save his neck, he fell into the trap.
'It warn't no lie,' he blurted out. 'I left with the posse an' we all figured you was cashed. I ain't bin in Pinetown since, so how would I know?' Dave's grin was back again. 'Well, gents, Mister Javert havin' admitted I'm me--which a'most makes me doubt it myself--I guess that settles the cat-hop,' he remarked.
'Not any,' Sark snapped. 'That fella'--pointing to the marshal--'is a notorious outlaw, an' I'm going to turn him over to the sheriff at Drywash.'
'You gotta git him first,' Nippert said. 'Loose yore dawgs as soon as you like, Sark.' The defiance brought a deeper frown to the rancher's face.
Many of the Welcome men were stepping aside and would take no part in an affray, but he would have two for one. Nevertheless, lives would be lost, and there was that cursed gunman. Sark had an uneasy feeling that the marshal's first bullet would render the result of the fight a matter of indifference to him. Then Providence intervened. A growing thunder of hammering hooves, and along the trail a compact body of riders raced into view. Nippert drew a deep breath of relief; the Bar O had come. A few more seconds and they were at the scene.
'What's goin' on here?' Owen asked, and when he had heard the story, turned to Sark. 'Sore at havin' failed to hang a man for somethin' he didn't do, huh?' he said contemptuously.
'He's an outlaw--wanted in Texas '
'He's wanted a damn' sight more in Welcome, judging by this precious gathering; the on'y thing I'm surprised at is that they had the pluck to try it in daylight,' came the scathing answer. 'I s'pose you made 'em good an' drunk first. Got any proof of what you say?'
'That fella knows him.' The Bar O owner regarded Javert with distinct disapproval. 'I wouldn't destroy a dawg on his evidence,' he said bluntly. 'What's it gotta do with you, Sark, anyways?'
'I was invited by the citizens o' Welcome to come in----'
'Meanin' Mullins an' the lousy loafers from Dirty Dick's?' Owen interrupted. 'Well, you are now invited to get out, pronto.' The Dumb-bell man writhed under the lash of that bitter tongue. 'yo're takin' a high hand,' he said. 'I ain't here alone.'
'I'd noticed it, an' if you want trouble . . .' Sark was not eager--the odds were no longer in his favour; the majority of the townsfolk would side with the Bar O, whose custom was of moment to many of them. Also, the riders from that ranch were known to be willing fighters, ready to storm the gates of Hell itself at the bidding of theirboss. And the marshal ... Sark reckoned up the chances and made his decision.
'That'll come later,' he promised. 'For now, I'm pullin' out.' He swung his horse towards the hills where his own ranch lay, and his men followed him in silence.
John Owen turned to Masters. 'I'm obliged to you, young man,' he said. 'We were delayed, an' if you hadn't got here when you did . . .'
'I'd be hearin' harps right now,' Sudden finished. 'Yo're flatterin' yoreself, ol'-timer,' Dave laughed. 'When did you get religion?'
'Jim's a methodis', an' he has Welcome mighty near convened,' Nippen said solemnly.
'There goes some who ain't converted yet,' Gowdy remarked ironically, indicating another group heading for town. 'Don't you make the mistake o' thinkin' you've finished with them, marshal.'
