CHAPTER X.IN TROUBLED WATERS.
The dawn gave way to morning, and the sun rose while the baron and the girl were pushing on toward the Star-A ranch. The girl piloted their course, and lost a good deal of time giving a ranch, whose buildings stood on a tongue of land half encircled by the river, a wide berth.
“For vy you do dot?” asked the baron.
He had not, up to that moment, asked the girl any questions about herself. Fully two hours had passed since they had left the Dinkelmann cabin, and not half a dozen words had been exchanged between him and the girl.
“A man lives there who is an enemy of my father’s,” the girl answered. “He is a cattle baron, and his name is Phelps.”
“I peen some parons meinseluf,” said the Dutchman, “aber I don’d got some cattle. Iss he a pad feller, dis cattle paron?”
“Yes; fully as unscrupulous as that other cattle baron whose name is Benner.”
“Vat a lod oof cattle parons, und all pad eggs. Vell, vell, nefer mindt. Vere vas you ven der Dinkelmanns gaptured you, Miss Berry?”
“It wasn’t the Dinkelmanns who captured me, but some of Benner’s cowboys.”
“Ach, aber I vish I hat peen aroundt dot time! Vere dit it habben?”
“At the ranch. Nate had gone away early to look for some stray cattle. He didn’t come back when he said he would, and father went to hunt him up. Father didn’t come back either, and I was in the house reading when—when—when Benner’s cowboys came. I fought to get away from them, but there were two of them, and what could I do? They took me to Fritz Dinkelmann’s, and I was told that Benner was coming to see me this morning. Oh, but I am glad you came to my aid, Mr. von Schnitzenhauser!”
“So am I glad,” said the baron, “more glad as I can tell. Vy ditn’t you dry und knock der poards off from der insite, huh?”
“I did try—but I had only my hands.”
She lifted her hands to show him how they had been bruised and scratched.
“Ach, sure,” said the baron, “you couldn’t haf got oudt oof dot blace mitoudt an axe, same as vat I hat.”
“When I heard you come to the house last night,” the girl went on, “I made up my mind to see if you would befriend me. I was lucky in happening to have that bit of lead pencil in my pocket, and the handkerchief served very well for something to write on. I waited until I knew Mrs. Dinkelmann was in the kitchen, and then I tapped on the door to attract your attention, and began pushing the handkerchief through. I can’t begin to tell you how glad I was when I heard you rap on the boards at the window, but you were a long time getting me out.”
“Id vasn’t safe to dry it sooner,” explained the baron, keeping quiet about the way he went to sleep; “der olt laty vas on guard mit der bistol. Ach, vat a big bistol id vas! Und I bed you id shoots like anyding.”
“Well,” sighed the girl, “I am safely away from the house, and I shall soon be at home now.”
“You bed someding for nodding aboudt dot. Aber tell me vonce: Iss dot Dinkelmann a pad feller?”
“No, I don’t think he is, baron. He owes Benner money, though, and Benner forces Dinkelmann to do things that are not right. Dinkelmann is more to be pitied than condemned. He——”
The girl broke off suddenly, and a startled look crossed her face. Halting her horse, she bent her head in a listening attitude.
“Vat id iss?” queried the baron.
“Can’t you hear it?” whispered the girl, a catch in her voice. “Shooting!”
Yes, the baron heard the reports. They came from the direction of the Brazos, and he and the girl were traveling toward the stream.
“Let’s not go any farther this way,” cried the girl.
“Who you t’ink iss making dot noise?” asked the baron.
“I don’t know,” she answered tremblingly, “but it must be some of Phelps’ men or some of Benner’s.”
“It dakes two tifferent kinds oof men for dot pitzness, Miss Berry. Vone kindt does der shooding, und der odder kindt iss shod ad. Vich is vich?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” returned Hattie, “but I mustn’t fall into the hands of those cowboys again! I would rather die than have that happen.”
“Id von’t habben,” said the baron valiantly. “Schust make your trusting py me. I vill safe you, Miss Berry, yah, so helup me!”
For nearly an hour longer they continued to ride across the open plain. Hattie would not consent toturn in the direction of the river, so they took a course that paralleled the stream.
They had a rough awakening from their fancied security. Shouts were suddenly heard behind. They looked around to see a large party of horsemen bearing down on them at full gallop.
The girl suddenly showed a spirit that aroused the baron’s admiration. Now, when her fortunes were at the lowest ebb, all her fears seemed to drop from her. Her face became set and resolute, her eyes flashed, and she goaded her horse to the best speed.
The baron’s mule, although a scrawny-looking brute, had both speed and bottom. Horse and mule, responding to the urging of their riders, flung onward neck and neck.
“How many are there in that party, baron?” asked the girl.
“More as I like to see,” said the baron. “I should say dere iss t’irty or fordy. Dere iss a greaser und a feller in plack clothes at der head oof der gang. Who vas dose din horns?”
“The man in the Mexican clothes is Phelps,” replied the girl, “and the other man is—Benner!” The last word came with bitter emphasis. “If they capture us, baron, I wish you would shoot that man in black.”
“Anyt’ing to oblige a laty,” returned the baron promptly, “aber I pedder do dot pefore ve ged gaptured, nicht wahr? Meppyso I don’d ged no chance afder dot, or——”
The baron, at that moment, received the start of his life. He gulped on his words, and nearly dropped from his saddle.
“Look vonce!” he gasped. “See who iss dot, Miss Berry!”
The baron pointed across the level to a spot where one horseman after another was swinging over the crest of a coulee—appearing as if by magic out of the earth, and pointing straight for the baron and the girl.
“Vone iss—meppy I vas treaming—vone iss Puffalo Pill,” mumbled the baron; “und anodder iss Vild Pill, und dere iss olt Nomat, und Leedle Cayuse, und some odder fellers vat I don’d know.”
“The other two,” cried the girl joyfully, “are my father and Nate.”
“From vere dit dose fellers come?”
“I don’t know, baron, but—but it is a blessing for us. And there’s the sky pilot,” went on the girl, still feasting her eyes on the approaching horsemen.
“Dot gifs us enough men to make a pooty fighdt, aber dose odder fellers haf seferal times as many as vat ve got.”
The scout, and those from the coulee, were not long in coming to the side of the baron and the girl. There were many things the baron and the girl wanted to know from the scout and those with him, and many things Buffalo Bill and his companions were eager to hear from the Dutchman and Hattie, but the course of events offered no opportunity for talk.
“They’re gaining on us, pard!” shouted Wild Bill.
“I reckon nothin’ kin stave off a fight now,” yelled old Nomad.
“No bloodshed, I beg of you!” implored the sky pilot. “Let me try my hand as peacemaker, friends! My profession earns me that right.”
Suddenly an idea flashed through the scout’s mind.Forcing his horse alongside the sky pilot’s roan, he leaned from the saddle to shout:
“You can act as peacemaker, parson, but it must be in my way!”
“Any way, Buffalo Bill,” cried the sky pilot, “just so it really brings peace without the spilling of blood.”
“Dunbar,” roared the scout, “ride alongside Miss Perry.”
The other horsemen shifted their positions so that this manœuvre could be accomplished.
“You, Jordan,” went on the scout, “ride up behind Miss Perry and Dunbar. Get as close to them as you can.”
Every one in that party was a trained horseman. The reins were handled in masterly fashion, and the racing steeds weaved slowly into positions as ordered by the king of scouts.
“The rest of you,” thundered Buffalo Bill, “spread out so that Lige Benner and Hank Phelps can see what Miss Perry, Dunbar and the parson are doing.”
No one, as yet, had any idea what Buffalo Bill had at the back of his head.
“What’s ther game, Buffler?” demanded Nomad, swerving Hiderack toward the side.
“The ombrays behind are getting ready to use their guns!” warned Wild Bill.
“Never mind their guns—yet,” answered the scout.
“What am I to do?” called the sky pilot.
The scout, pointing to Dunbar and Hattie with his quirt as Bear Paw slashed along, yelled at the top of his voice:
“Marry them!”
For an instant a dead silence fell over the group ofracing fugitives; then, as the wonderful timeliness of the scout’s plan grew clear in the minds of the rest of the party, a cheer broke from the pards.
“Well thought of!” cried the sky pilot.
The book he had used, on the afternoon of the preceding day in Hackamore, came from his pocket; then, with the horses at break-neck pace, and Benner and Phelps close enough to see and understand what was going on, the sky pilot united Nate Dunbar and Hattie Perry in the holy bonds of wedlock.
There have been weddings in balloons, in the Mammoth Cave, on mountain heights and in the depths of mines, but where and when had a young couple ever joined hands for a journey through life as Nate and Hattie joined hands now?
With the final words, “I pronounce you man and wife,” Buffalo Bill ordered a halt.
“A hollow square, pards,” he cried, “with Mrs. Dunbar in the centre! We will face these cattle barons now and see if Lige Benner will listen to reason.”
Swiftly the horses were reined to a panting halt, and as swiftly the scout and his pards, Dunbar, Perry and Jordan took their places in a circle—all facing outward, the girl in the centre and each man with his weapons in hand—each man with the exception of the sky pilot.
Thus they waited for Benner and Phelps and their cowboys to reach them.
The approaching horsemen came furiously. There were fully twoscore. With skilled hands they manœuvred their horses into a “surround,” and the little circle formed by the scout and his friends formed a living and determined barrier between Hattie Dunbar and the barons.
Benner brought his horse nose to nose with Bear Paw.
“You,” yelped Benner in wild fury, shaking his fist at the scout, “are the cause of all this! You and your infernal pards!”
“Look out, you whelp!” cried Wild Bill, “or that black you’re wearing will be for yourself.”
“Quiet, Hickok!” cried the scout; “I’ll do my own talking. Lige Benner,” he went on, to the cattleman, “you have kept this range stirred up quite long enough. You have done about as you pleased, regardless of the law. There is nothing further, now, to keep you at loggerheads with the Perrys. Miss Perry has just become Mrs. Dunbar!”
“Be hanged to you!” yelped Benner. “The sky pilot has made her Mrs. Dunbar, but any man with a gun can make her a widow.”
At that, both Dunbar and Perry nearly precipitated hostilities by making a start at Benner. The cowboys half drew their guns. A sharp word from the scout, however, backed by a shrill command from Hattie, caused Perry and Dunbar to resume their places in the cordon.
“Let me speak,” said the sky pilot, lifting his hand. “Men, men,” he begged, “think of what you have been doing! There are many of you cowboys to whom I have preached; you who have heard me before, listen to me now. Boys, who is Lige Benner that you should cast away your manhood and sink yourselves to his level in carrying out his wicked and lawless schemes? You know what is right! You know what is fair play! Has Dick Perry received just treatment? Has he been dealt with on the square? Answer me that! I have friends among you; to those friends I would say, is your jobwith Benner worth the price he compels you to pay for it? Is——”
“Another word out of you,” howled Benner, revolver in his hand, “and, parson though you are, I’ll shoot you out of your saddle. I’ll not sit here and let you try to turn my men against me!”
“And neither will you shoot me, Lige Benner,” answered the sky pilot, folding his arms, “for saying what you know to be the truth. You are a coward! Any man who would act as you have acted, is a coward.”
Benner made movements with his revolver hand which the scout did not like.
“Put up that gun, Benner!” said the scout.
“I’m my own boss,” roared Benner, “and I’ll not put it up till I get ready. I’d as soon send a bullet through you as through the meddling sky pilot.”
The scout spurred forward, straight toward Benner. For an instant it seemed as though the cattle baron would shoot, but he caught the scout’s eye and his hand grew paralyzed.
The scout, drawing rein at Benner’s saddle stirrup, twisted the revolver out of his hand and flung it to one of Benner’s cowboys.
“Keep that for him,” said he. “Benner may be a big man on the Brazos, but he’s not big enough to buck the United States Government. Now listen, every one of you men. I’ve something to say that’s of vital importance to all of you.
“The lawless doings on the Brazos have been heard of far beyond the confines of Texas. It was to investigate them that I came here. Chance, luck, what you will, threw me right into the thick of plot and counterplot before I had reached the town of Hackamore.
“Do you, Benner, or you, Phelps, want a company of regulars marching down the Brazos? Do you want your ranch buildings burned, your cattle scattered? Do you want to be run to cover and made to answer for your criminal deeds? If you do, make just one more move in this campaign of lawlessness. You seem to have all the legal machinery of this county under your thumbs, but I reckon you understand that fighting the United States Government is a different proposition.
“What do you fellows want, peace or war? I am here to give you either. All you have to do is to make a choice.
“If you’re for peace, there are conditions. Perry must be left alone. Any further persecution of him will be a signal for that company of regulars. The Star-A cattle that have been rustled and driven off must be returned. Those are the terms for peace.
“If you don’t want peace, then I give you my word that you, Benner, and you, Phelps, will see the inside of a federal prison, and that all your wealth won’t keep you out. That’s about all I’ve got to say. Think it over. I and my pards are going to the Star-A ranch with Perry, and Mr. and Mrs. Dunbar and the sky pilot. Try to interfere with us at your own peril.”
The scout, with a final look straight into Benner’s eyes, rode away.
“Break away, there on the north!” Buffalo Bill cried to the cowboys who fenced in that part of the circle.
The cowboys cleared the way in a hurry.
“Move on, friends!” cried the scout. “Take your time, there’s nothing to fear.”
Perry and the sky pilot, side by side, led the way out of the circle of cattlemen. Behind them rode Mr. andMrs. Dunbar. Then came the baron and Cayuse, Wild Bill and Nomad, and, at the end of the procession, Buffalo Bill.
“Gentlemen,” laughed the scout, “I bid you good day. Go home and do a little reflecting, all of you. You have plenty to think about, I take it.”
Benner snarled and showed his teeth like an angry catamount. But the fight had all gone out of Phelps. He was very much depressed.
Slowly the scout’s party rode off across the plain in the direction of the Brazos. For a long time the cattle barons and their cowboys kept their horses at a standstill, gazing after the scout. The only man in the vanishing party who loomed ominous in their eyes was Buffalo Bill. That day, if never before, the prince of plainsmen had made his power felt.
He, an agent of the government! Sent there to investigate the lawlessness on the Brazos! And neither Benner nor Phelps had ever dreamed of such a thing. They had showed their hands, hiding nothing, daring the scout and defying him. And now they knew that he had been sent there to take the measure of their culpability.
“I reckon I’ve had enough of this Perry business,” said Phelps. “You got me into it, Benner, confound you! And what have you gained? Why, you’ve even lost the girl.”
“I’m not done yet,” scowled Benner.
“You take my advice and throw up your hands.”
“Not till I’m even with Perry and Buffalo Bill,” was the snarling response.
“Count me out of your schemes, then, from now on. I tell you I’ve had enough.”
“Be hanged to you for a coward!” cried Benner. “Come on, you boys that go with me.”
The Benner forces separated from the Phelps outfit, each detachment of cowboys going their different ways.
“That fool’s going to get himself into more trouble, Mac,” remarked Phelps to McDermott, one of his foremen.
“That’s nothing to you, Hank,” replied the foreman.
“Nothing to me, no. I’ve come out of this business a heap better than I deserve. And I reckon I know how to let well enough alone.”