The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 7, 1904, Page 8

t the driver ¥ a te he remarked casua ¢ e's outside sees what lied Billy, took this a ub. 1l hand- the sited t his hand i pipe outside Natu- t escape I he, “yo' seems t thar satchel g Billy has some per- is valuable to bag and produced rather a cheap- her that was and went inside ment of a inds. The opposite each other and which_was served by the gir The stranger kept plate while she was in e perched on the edge of he with his feet tucked upder him and resting on their toes. When she approached the muscles of his shoulders and upper arms grew rigid with emb: ment, causing strange, aswkward movemenis of the hands. He answered in monosyllables. Billy ate expansively and earnestly. Toward the close of the meal Charley slipped into place beside him. Charley was out of humor, and found the meat cold. ~—— yore soul, Nell,” he cried, “this yere ain’t fitten fer a hog to eat!” The girl did not mind, nor did Billy. It was the country’s mode of speech. The stranger dropped his knife. “I don't wonder yo' don’t like it, then!” said he, with a funny little flare of anger. “Meanin’ what?” threateningly. “You shore musin’t speak to a lady that way,” replied the stranger firmly, in his little piping voice. Billy caught the point, and exploded in a mighty guffaw. Bully fer you!" he cried, slapping his knee; “struck pyrites (he pro- nounced it ‘pie rights') fer shore that trip, Charle - The @irl, too,\laughed, buf quietly. She was a little touched, though just this winter she had left Bismarck be- shouted Charley THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL 4 AND CROOHKLED J7/S5 LELBOW ;e «y place id have no more of Billy's approval the an fell silent. About midnight. the four inmates of the frontier hotel were awakened by a endous ket outside. The stran- ger arose, fully clothed, from his bun and peered through the n: window. A doz horse in charge of a single guishable in dark the open door a broad band amed from th whence came ise of voices and ¢f boots tramp- ing about oW open stand- man, were =aloon, is k Hank,"” Black Hank s to this said Billy, and hi snub! at his outfit post yere ic Black Hank in the Hills would have translated to se James further south The stranger turned suddenly ener- getic Don’t you make no fight?” he ask ght!” said Billy, wondering. Fight? Co'se not. Hank ain’t plun- derin’ me none. He jest ambles along and helps himself, and leaves‘th’ dust fer it every shot. 1 jest-lays low an lets him operate. I never has no deal- in with him, understand. He ' j nat'rally waltzes in an’ plants his grub hooks on what “he needs. I doesnt know anything about it. T'm . dead asleep.” He bestowed a shadowy wink upon the stranger Below, the outlaws moved here and there. “Billy!” shouted a commanding voice. “Billy Knapp!” The hotel keeper looked perplexed. “Now, what’s he tollin’ me for?” he asked of the man by his side. “Billy!” shouted the voice “come down here, you siwash. to palaver with you.” ““All right,” Hank, He went to his a heavy belt, steep stairs. The barroom was lighted and filled with men. Some of them were eating and drinking; others were strapping provisions into portable form. Against the corner of the ban a tall figure of a man leaned, smoking—a man lithe, ac- tive and muscular, with a keen, dark face and black eyebrows which met again, I want replied Billy. “room” and buckled on then descended the over his nose. Billy walked directly to this man. “What is it?” he inquired shortly. “This yere ain't in th’ agreement.” “I know that,” replied the stranger. “Then leave yore dust and vamoose.” “My dust is there,” said Black Hank, placing his hand on a buckskin bag at his side, “and you're paid, Billy, Knapp. 1 want to ask you a question.: Stand- ing Rock has sent fifty thousand dol- lars to Buck Tail. The messenger went through here to-day. Have *you seen him?” “Narry messenger,” replied Billy, in relief. “Stage goes empty.” Charley had crept down the stairs and into the room. “What 'n blazes you doin’ yere, you ranikaboo ijit?” asked Billy trucu- lently. “That thar stage ain’t what you calls empty,” observed Charley, unmoved. A light broke on Billy’s mind. He re- membered the valise which the stran- ger had so carefully guarded, and though his common sense told him that an inoffensive non-combatant, such as his guest, would hardly be chosen as express messenger, still the bare pos- sibility remained. “Yo're right,” he assented carelessly, JGor YoU A z;r/vof/?f'ooz’ BEFOR 2HE Doow ST00D A SIMALL, CONSTP7— ~PIIVE Z OOATHG P7777-. “thar is one tenderfoot who knows as much of ridin’ express as a pig does of war."” “I. notices he's almighty particular 'bout that thar carpet bag of his'n,” insisted Charley. The man against the countg; d lost nothing of the scene. - Billy enial, his hesitation, his half-truth, all looked suspicious to him. With one swift round sweep of the arm he had Billy covered. Billy’'s arms shot over his head without the necessity of a com- mand. The men ceased their occupations and gathered about. Scenes of this sort were too common to elicit com- ment or arouse excitement. They knew perfectly the laissez-faire relations which obtained between the two “West- erners. “Now,” said Black Hank angrily, in a low tone, “I want to know why you tried that monkey game.” » Billy, wary and afraid, replied that he had tried no game, that he had for- gotten the tenderfoot for a moment, and that he did not believe the latter would prove to be the sought-for express mes- senger. One of the men, as a signal from his leader, relieved Billy’s belt of consider- able weight. Then the latter was per- mitted to sit on a cracker box. Two more mounted the little stairs. In a moment they returned to report that the upper story contained no human beings, strange or otherwise, except the girl, but that there remained a small_trunk. Under further orders they dragged the trunk down into the bar- room. It was broken open and found to contain clothes, of the plainsman’s cut, material and state of wear, a neatly folded Mexican saddle showing use, and a rawhide quirt. o ““Tenderfoot!” said Black Hank con- temptuously. The | outlaws had already scattered outside to "look fér the trail. In this they were unsuccessful, reporting. in- deed, that not the faintest sign indi- cated escape,in any ection. Billy knew his man. ' The tightening of Black Hank’s * close-knit brows meant but one thing. One does not gain chieftainship of any kind in. the ‘West without propping ascendency with acts of ruthless decision. Billy leaped from his cracker box with the suddenness of the puma, seized Black Hank firmly about the waist, whirled him into a sort of shield and' began an earnest struggle for the instant pos- session of the outlaw’s drawn revolver. It was a gallant attempt, but unsuc- cessful. In a moment Billy was pin- ioned to the floor and Bleck Hank was rubbing his abraded forearm. After that the only question was whether it should be rope or bullet. Noy, when Billy had gone down stairs, the stranger had wasted no more time at the window. He had in his pos on $30,000 in greenbacks which he was to deliver as scon as possible to the Buck Tail Agency in Wyoming. The necessary change of stage lines had forced him to stay over night at Billy Knapp's hotel. ‘The messenger seized his bag and softly ran along through the canvas- partitioned rooms wherein Billy slept to a narrow window which he had al- ready noticed gave out almest directly into the pine woods. The window was of oiled paper, and its catch baffled him. He ‘knew it should slide back, but it refused to slide for him. He did not dare to break.the paper be- cause of the crackling noise. A voice at his shoulder startled him. “I'll show ycu,” whispered the red- cheeked girl. She was wrapped loosely in a blan- ket, her hair falling about her shoul- der, and her bare feet showing beneath her.coverings. The little mdn suffered at once an agony of embarrassment in ‘which the thought of his errand was lost. It was recalled to him by the sirl. “There vou are!” she whispered, showing him the open window. “Thank you,” he stammered pain- fully, “I assure you—I, wish—" The girl laughed under her breath. “That’s all right,” she said heartily. “I'owe you that for calling old- whis- kers off his brone,” and she kissed him. The messenger, trembling with. self- consciousness, climbed hastily through the window, ran the broad loop of the satchel up his armi, and, instead of dropping to the ground, as the girl had expected, swung himself lightly. into the branches of a rather large-scrub oak that grew near. She listened to the rustle of the leaves for a moment as he neared the trunk, and then, un- able longer to restrain’ her curiosity in regard to the the stairway. 3 As she did two men mounted. They examined the rooms of the upper story hastily but carefully, paying scant attention to her, and departed swearing. In a few moments they re- turned for the stranger’s trunk. Ne followed as far the stairway. There she heard and saw things, and fled in bitter dismay to the back of the house, when Billy Knapp was overpowered. At the window she knelt, clasping _her hands and placing her head be- tween her bare arms. Women in the West, at least women like Nell, do not weep. 2t she came near it. Suddenly she raised her head. A voice next her ear had addressed her. She looked here and there around, but could discover nothing. “Here. outside,” came the low, guard- ed voice. “In the tree.” Thep she s@w that the little stranger had not stirred from his first sighting- place. ‘‘Beg your pardon, ma’am. for start- ling ycu or for addressing you at all, which I shouldn’t, but—" “Oh, never mind that!" cried the girl impatiently, shaking her hair. So de- precating and timid were the tones that almost without an effort of the imagination she could picture the little man’s blushes and his half-sidling method of delivery. At this supreme " moment his littleness and lack of self- assertion jarred on her mood. “What you doin’/there? Thought you'd vam- oosed.” “It was safest here,” exclaimed the stranger. “I left no trail.” 4 She. nodded .comprehension of the common sense of this. “But, ma’am, I took the liberty of speakin’ to you because you seems to be in trouble. Of eourse I ain’t got no right to ask, an’ if you don’t care to tell me—"" “They’re goin’ to kill Billy!” broke in Nell with a sob. “What .for?"” “I don’t jest rightly make out. They're after some one, and they thinks _Billy’s cachein’ him. I reckon it’s you. Billy ain’t cachein’ nothin’; but they thinks he is.” “It’s . me they's after, all right enough. Now you knows where I am, why don't you tell them an’ save Billy?” The girl started, but her keen West- ern mind saw the difficulty at once. “They thinks Billy pertects you, jest the same.” doings below, turned to s0 and “Do vou love him?" ger. asked the stran- od knows I'm d N purty “but toug! I jest con- do fess sobbing, that!” and she dropped her head again. The invisible anger In the gloom fell silent, considering. “I'm a purty rank self,” said he at last “and I got a job ¢ 1 ought to put rou attention on anythiax’ proposition as if to him hand which s: h without givin’ a usual play, folks don't r me and I don’t care much for folks. Women in general. They drtve me plumb tired. 1 reckon I don’t stack up ve high on the blue chips when it comes to cash- in’ in with that sex, anyhow: but in general they gives me as notice as they lavishes on a rod bug. [ ain’t cari you unde; nary bit; I of han- but onct in a dog's kers fer a decent look from one them. I t never had no women folks of my own—never. Sometimes I thinks it would be some scrumptious to know a little gal’s waitin’ for me some- " of wheres. They ain’t none. They n will be. I ain’t built that way. ou t :d me white to-night. Yo the fi woman that ever ki of her own accord.” The girl heard a faint scramble, then the soft pat of some one landing on his feet. Peering from the window, she made out a faint shadowy form steal- ing-around the corner of the hotel. put her head to her heart d listened. stranger’s Her understanding of the motives was vague, but she had caught his confession that her kiss had mefant much to him, and even in her anxiety she felt an inclination to laugh. She owed that caress as she would nose. The men below stairs, after scme dis- cussion, had decided on bullet. This was out of consideration for Billy's standing as a frontiersman. Besides, he had stolen no horses. In order not to delay - matters the execution was fixed for the present fime and place. Billy stcod with his back to the logs of his own hotel, his hands and feet bound, but his eyes uncovered. He had never lost his nerte. In short re- spit- which preparation demanded, he told -his opponents what he thought of them. ; “Proud?” he concluded a long solilo- quy as if to the reflector of the lamp. “Proud?” he repeated meditatively. “This yere Hank's jest that proud he's all swelled up like a poisoned pup. Ain’t every one kin corral a man and git fifty thousand dollars without turn- in’ a hair.” Black Hank distributed three men to do the business. There were no he- d the cold end of a dog's Black Hank lool “T've heard tell of y The stranger’s eye ran oy and encountered that of the = ie shrank into himself and bh “Good night,” he said has disappeared. A moment later as h i of hoofs became audible away bunch of horses For an Billy: “B: stand pat spoke. with kid alone or I £ was the only man armed “Kid, huh!” grunted H “A 1 a kid! [I've heard tell o “What have you quired the girl. “He's the plumb best scout on t southern trail and the best ¢ hot in the W replied Black Hank The vear followir g 5, Al= fred and anothe i J Buckley took acre hills e v wagon traia that set out that summer.