Jimmy Moran lost no time in leaving Turquoise City. He knew the temper of the men from the Big 4, and that they would take the matter in their own hands if his father was willing.If his father had led them to town to talk with the sheriff, it was a sure thing that the Big 4 intended to do something. Jimmy realized that their intentions might be merely to capture Conley and put him in jail; but the capture might result in bloodshed. Conley was a fighter.Jimmy intended to ride to the Hot Creek ranch, warn Conley and give him plenty of time to get away. He felt sure that Conley would be sensible enough to hide out until the wrath of the Big 4 cooled off a little.He ran his horse all the way to the ford and found that the fence had not been repaired; so, instead of going around the road, he cut across the ranch. He wanted all the time he could get to present his argument to Conley. He would invite Conley to come to the Stumbling K. That would be the last place they would ever look for him.There was no moon, but Jimmy was familiar with the lay of the land. He thought at first that the ranch-house was in darkness, but a thin thread of light peeped out from beside a curtain.Jimmy dismounted a hundred feet away from the house and dropped his reins. It was ticklish business, he decided. He did not know that Conley was expecting Roaring Rigby. Jimmy sneaked in like an Indian; he meant to announce himself to Conley from a safe position.A huge wild-rose bush grew at one corner of the porch, and just to the left of the corner of the house grew a twisted cottonwood that nearly covered the side of the house. There was a window just beyond the cottonwood, almost hidden behind the tangle of foliage. Jimmy sneaked in close to the cottonwood and picked up a handful of small pebbles, which he flung against the window with considerable force. For several moments there was no sound. Then came Conley’s voice, muffled—“Who’s there?”“Jimmy Moran,” called Jimmy. “I’ve got to talk with you, Mr. Conley; and we better make it fast, too.”Conley did not reply. Jimmy waited, wondering what Conley was going to do. He thought he could hear the sound of a running horse. From where Jimmy crouched he could not see the doorway, but he did see the lamplight streak across the corner of the porch when the door opened.The galloping horse was closer now. As Jimmy turned his head, looking down the stretch of road which led to the gate, a gun-shot crashed out so close to him that he sprang back, throwing up one arm, as if to protect his eyes. There was the dull thud of a falling body; a woman screamed.Jimmy sprang forward, drawing his gun. He thought he saw a man just beyond the rose bush and instinctively he fired his gun at whatever it was. Then he stumbled across the porch and found himself looking down at Moses Conley, who was stretched full length on the porch.The door was open behind him, the lamplight falling full on Jimmy, and he saw Dawn, white-faced, staring at him. The horse jerked to a stop behind him, but Jimmy did not turn until Roaring Rigby stepped in behind him, putting his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. Dawn came closer, and her eyes were wide with horror. Roaring shook Jimmy slightly.“How did it happen, Jimmy?” he asked huskily.Jimmy shook his head.“I don’t know,” he said. “I—I—”He saw Dawn’s staring eyes. Roaring was taking the gun away from him. Jimmy stepped back.“You think I shot him?” he asked hoarsely.“He told you to keep away, you know,” said Roaring sadly. “Don’t try to run away, Jimmy. Help me take him inside.”“Run away?” Jimmy’s voice was strained. “Oh, my God!”Together they carried Moses Conley into the living-room and laid him out on the floor. Dawn dropped to her knees beside him.“He isn’t dead!” she exclaimed. “Somebody get the doctor—quick!”“Floor no good,” grunted Mrs. Conley. “Put on bed.”No one had noticed her before. They placed him on a bed.“I better go for the doctor,” said Jimmy anxiously.Roaring looked at Jimmy and shook his head slowly.“Better wait, Jimmy; we’ll go together.”“You mean I’m under arrest?”“Somethin’ like that, Jimmy. Good Lord, I’m sorry. I—”Roaring took Jimmy’s gun from inside his belt and examined the cylinder. One chamber was empty, and the barrel smelled strongly of burned powder.Roaring turned to Dawn and put a hand on her shoulder.“Tell me what happened,” he said.“Oh, I don’t know. Dad was expecting you. Some one threw something against a window, and Dad asked who it was. I—I heard Jimmy answer. He told who he was. I don’t think Dad wanted to open the door, but I—oh, I asked him to. And when he opened the door—”“Yeah,” said Roaring miserably. “He wasn’t armed either.”“Yes, he was,” said Dawn. “I—I think his gun flew out of his hand. There were two shots fired.”“I shot one of ’em,” said Jimmy quickly. “I thought I saw somebody.”“Somebody come,” said Mrs. Conley.The front door was wide open, and when they looked out the yard was full of men and horses. Roaring met them at the doorway.“Smart, eh?” growled Regan. “Sneaked out on us, eh? Where’s old Moses Conley?”“Don’t yell,” said Roaring. “Send one of your men after the doctor; Moses Conley has been shot.”Franklyn Moran crowded in past Roaring and met Jimmy face to face.“What are you doing here, Jimmy?” he asked harshly.Jimmy’s lips were tightly shut and his face seemed pale in the yellow light.“You let him alone,” said Roaring. “He’s my prisoner.”“Your prisoner?” Franklyn Moran’s eyes opened wide. “What do you mean, Rigby?”“Will one of your men go after the doctor?” asked Roaring. “If we don’t git medical help it might mean murder.”“Do you mean to say that my son shot Moses Conley?”“Mark,” said Regan, “you and Hank go and get Doc Shelley. Tell him to come as fast as he can.”Franklyn Moran went to Roaring and grasped him by the arm, repeating his question.“Oh, hell, don’t paw me!” growled Roaring. “What if he did? You led your men out here to do the same thing.”Franklyn Moran turned and looked at his men. None of them met his gaze.“I’m not goin’ to run away,” said Jimmy. “See if you can’t do somethin’ for the old man before the doctor gets here. If you can’t, I can. I know something about first aid.”“Hop to it,” said Roaring.Jimmy started to go into the bedroom but Dawn stepped in front of him.“Mother knows what to do,” she said evenly.Jimmy stared at her and his face twisted painfully.“Can’t I help her, Dawn?” he asked.“I’m helping her,” she said and turned away.Jimmy walked across the room and stared out through the branch-covered window against which he had thrown the gravel. The men were silent. Some of them rolled smokes, but went out on the porch to light them. They could hear the drip of water, as the old Indian woman squeezed out a towel; they heard a whispered conversation between Dawn and her mother.Roaring went outside and hunted in the grass just off the porch, where he found Moses Conley’s revolver. It was an old, single-action Colt .45, and in one of the cylinders was an empty cartridge. He brought it into the house to examine it. Franklyn Moran saw the empty shell.“How many shots were fired?” he asked softly.“Two,” said Roaring. “I heard ’em both. There’s a chance for him to prove self-defense. Moran must have fired first.”“That’s good,” whispered Moran. “I’m glad there’s a chance.”“Oh, as far as that’s concerned, Conley was lookin’ for it,” said Regan coldly. “A Black Horse jury will look at it right.”“Oh, damn you all!” gritted Jimmy. “That’s all you think about! Beatin’ the law. Damn you and your Black Horse juries! I never shot Conley.”“That’s all right, Jimmy,” said Roaring. “Don’t yell.”“Why would I?” Jimmy turned appealingly to them. “Don’t you understand? I—I—” he choked—“I’m goin’ to marry Dawn, if she’ll marry me. Would I harm her father?”“Any man will shoot in self-defense,” said Regan.Jimmy groaned and turned away. Roaring went into the bedroom, and Jimmy saw Bill Creswell signal him cautiously to make a getaway, indicating that there was plenty of room to pass between him and the door. Jimmy liked Creswell and he realized that Bill meant it all for the best. But Jimmy shook his head firmly and turned back to the window. Creswell shrugged his shoulders. When Jimmy looked back at Creswell, he pantomimed that Jimmy could take his gun, as he went out. Perhaps he thought that Jimmy didn’t want to go unarmed. But Jimmy declined, and Creswell sighed deeply. He had done the best he could for a friend.It seemed ages to Jimmy before the doctor arrived, but in reality Hank Pitts and Mark Clayton had broken all speed records in getting old Doctor Shelley from Turquoise City to the ranch. They had taken him through the ford so fast that all three of them were drenched, and the old doctor was as mad as a hornet.Roaring went into the bedroom with him while he made an examination and, in a few minutes, Roaring came back to the men, advising them all to go home.“The doctor says he’s got a slim chance,” said Roaring.“That bullet missed his heart about three inches.”He turned to Jimmy Moran.“Where’s your bronc, Jimmy?”Jimmy told him where he had left it, and Roaring sent one of the Big 4 cowboys to git it. Franklyn Moran went up to the sheriff.“You going to put him in jail?” he asked.Roaring cuffed his hat on the side of his head and looked quizzically at Moran. “What do you think?” he asked. “Ain’t there a law ag’in callin’ men to their own door at night and shootin’ ’em down?”“But—but if Conley shot at him?” spluttered Moran.“Jimmy ain’t claimed that he did, has he?”Moran turned to his son.“He did, didn’t he, Jimmy?” anxiously.“No,” replied Jimmy wearily. “He didn’t even see me.”“Don’t be a fool,” growled Regan angrily.“That’s enough,” said Roaring firmly. “The doctor don’t need you, and I’m sure I don’t, so you might as well go home. C’mon, Jimmy.”
Jimmy Moran lost no time in leaving Turquoise City. He knew the temper of the men from the Big 4, and that they would take the matter in their own hands if his father was willing.
If his father had led them to town to talk with the sheriff, it was a sure thing that the Big 4 intended to do something. Jimmy realized that their intentions might be merely to capture Conley and put him in jail; but the capture might result in bloodshed. Conley was a fighter.
Jimmy intended to ride to the Hot Creek ranch, warn Conley and give him plenty of time to get away. He felt sure that Conley would be sensible enough to hide out until the wrath of the Big 4 cooled off a little.
He ran his horse all the way to the ford and found that the fence had not been repaired; so, instead of going around the road, he cut across the ranch. He wanted all the time he could get to present his argument to Conley. He would invite Conley to come to the Stumbling K. That would be the last place they would ever look for him.
There was no moon, but Jimmy was familiar with the lay of the land. He thought at first that the ranch-house was in darkness, but a thin thread of light peeped out from beside a curtain.
Jimmy dismounted a hundred feet away from the house and dropped his reins. It was ticklish business, he decided. He did not know that Conley was expecting Roaring Rigby. Jimmy sneaked in like an Indian; he meant to announce himself to Conley from a safe position.
A huge wild-rose bush grew at one corner of the porch, and just to the left of the corner of the house grew a twisted cottonwood that nearly covered the side of the house. There was a window just beyond the cottonwood, almost hidden behind the tangle of foliage. Jimmy sneaked in close to the cottonwood and picked up a handful of small pebbles, which he flung against the window with considerable force. For several moments there was no sound. Then came Conley’s voice, muffled—
“Who’s there?”
“Jimmy Moran,” called Jimmy. “I’ve got to talk with you, Mr. Conley; and we better make it fast, too.”
Conley did not reply. Jimmy waited, wondering what Conley was going to do. He thought he could hear the sound of a running horse. From where Jimmy crouched he could not see the doorway, but he did see the lamplight streak across the corner of the porch when the door opened.
The galloping horse was closer now. As Jimmy turned his head, looking down the stretch of road which led to the gate, a gun-shot crashed out so close to him that he sprang back, throwing up one arm, as if to protect his eyes. There was the dull thud of a falling body; a woman screamed.
Jimmy sprang forward, drawing his gun. He thought he saw a man just beyond the rose bush and instinctively he fired his gun at whatever it was. Then he stumbled across the porch and found himself looking down at Moses Conley, who was stretched full length on the porch.
The door was open behind him, the lamplight falling full on Jimmy, and he saw Dawn, white-faced, staring at him. The horse jerked to a stop behind him, but Jimmy did not turn until Roaring Rigby stepped in behind him, putting his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. Dawn came closer, and her eyes were wide with horror. Roaring shook Jimmy slightly.
“How did it happen, Jimmy?” he asked huskily.
Jimmy shook his head.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I—I—”
He saw Dawn’s staring eyes. Roaring was taking the gun away from him. Jimmy stepped back.
“You think I shot him?” he asked hoarsely.
“He told you to keep away, you know,” said Roaring sadly. “Don’t try to run away, Jimmy. Help me take him inside.”
“Run away?” Jimmy’s voice was strained. “Oh, my God!”
Together they carried Moses Conley into the living-room and laid him out on the floor. Dawn dropped to her knees beside him.
“He isn’t dead!” she exclaimed. “Somebody get the doctor—quick!”
“Floor no good,” grunted Mrs. Conley. “Put on bed.”
No one had noticed her before. They placed him on a bed.
“I better go for the doctor,” said Jimmy anxiously.
Roaring looked at Jimmy and shook his head slowly.
“Better wait, Jimmy; we’ll go together.”
“You mean I’m under arrest?”
“Somethin’ like that, Jimmy. Good Lord, I’m sorry. I—”
Roaring took Jimmy’s gun from inside his belt and examined the cylinder. One chamber was empty, and the barrel smelled strongly of burned powder.
Roaring turned to Dawn and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Tell me what happened,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t know. Dad was expecting you. Some one threw something against a window, and Dad asked who it was. I—I heard Jimmy answer. He told who he was. I don’t think Dad wanted to open the door, but I—oh, I asked him to. And when he opened the door—”
“Yeah,” said Roaring miserably. “He wasn’t armed either.”
“Yes, he was,” said Dawn. “I—I think his gun flew out of his hand. There were two shots fired.”
“I shot one of ’em,” said Jimmy quickly. “I thought I saw somebody.”
“Somebody come,” said Mrs. Conley.
The front door was wide open, and when they looked out the yard was full of men and horses. Roaring met them at the doorway.
“Smart, eh?” growled Regan. “Sneaked out on us, eh? Where’s old Moses Conley?”
“Don’t yell,” said Roaring. “Send one of your men after the doctor; Moses Conley has been shot.”
Franklyn Moran crowded in past Roaring and met Jimmy face to face.
“What are you doing here, Jimmy?” he asked harshly.
Jimmy’s lips were tightly shut and his face seemed pale in the yellow light.
“You let him alone,” said Roaring. “He’s my prisoner.”
“Your prisoner?” Franklyn Moran’s eyes opened wide. “What do you mean, Rigby?”
“Will one of your men go after the doctor?” asked Roaring. “If we don’t git medical help it might mean murder.”
“Do you mean to say that my son shot Moses Conley?”
“Mark,” said Regan, “you and Hank go and get Doc Shelley. Tell him to come as fast as he can.”
Franklyn Moran went to Roaring and grasped him by the arm, repeating his question.
“Oh, hell, don’t paw me!” growled Roaring. “What if he did? You led your men out here to do the same thing.”
Franklyn Moran turned and looked at his men. None of them met his gaze.
“I’m not goin’ to run away,” said Jimmy. “See if you can’t do somethin’ for the old man before the doctor gets here. If you can’t, I can. I know something about first aid.”
“Hop to it,” said Roaring.
Jimmy started to go into the bedroom but Dawn stepped in front of him.
“Mother knows what to do,” she said evenly.
Jimmy stared at her and his face twisted painfully.
“Can’t I help her, Dawn?” he asked.
“I’m helping her,” she said and turned away.
Jimmy walked across the room and stared out through the branch-covered window against which he had thrown the gravel. The men were silent. Some of them rolled smokes, but went out on the porch to light them. They could hear the drip of water, as the old Indian woman squeezed out a towel; they heard a whispered conversation between Dawn and her mother.
Roaring went outside and hunted in the grass just off the porch, where he found Moses Conley’s revolver. It was an old, single-action Colt .45, and in one of the cylinders was an empty cartridge. He brought it into the house to examine it. Franklyn Moran saw the empty shell.
“How many shots were fired?” he asked softly.
“Two,” said Roaring. “I heard ’em both. There’s a chance for him to prove self-defense. Moran must have fired first.”
“That’s good,” whispered Moran. “I’m glad there’s a chance.”
“Oh, as far as that’s concerned, Conley was lookin’ for it,” said Regan coldly. “A Black Horse jury will look at it right.”
“Oh, damn you all!” gritted Jimmy. “That’s all you think about! Beatin’ the law. Damn you and your Black Horse juries! I never shot Conley.”
“That’s all right, Jimmy,” said Roaring. “Don’t yell.”
“Why would I?” Jimmy turned appealingly to them. “Don’t you understand? I—I—” he choked—“I’m goin’ to marry Dawn, if she’ll marry me. Would I harm her father?”
“Any man will shoot in self-defense,” said Regan.
Jimmy groaned and turned away. Roaring went into the bedroom, and Jimmy saw Bill Creswell signal him cautiously to make a getaway, indicating that there was plenty of room to pass between him and the door. Jimmy liked Creswell and he realized that Bill meant it all for the best. But Jimmy shook his head firmly and turned back to the window. Creswell shrugged his shoulders. When Jimmy looked back at Creswell, he pantomimed that Jimmy could take his gun, as he went out. Perhaps he thought that Jimmy didn’t want to go unarmed. But Jimmy declined, and Creswell sighed deeply. He had done the best he could for a friend.
It seemed ages to Jimmy before the doctor arrived, but in reality Hank Pitts and Mark Clayton had broken all speed records in getting old Doctor Shelley from Turquoise City to the ranch. They had taken him through the ford so fast that all three of them were drenched, and the old doctor was as mad as a hornet.
Roaring went into the bedroom with him while he made an examination and, in a few minutes, Roaring came back to the men, advising them all to go home.
“The doctor says he’s got a slim chance,” said Roaring.
“That bullet missed his heart about three inches.”
He turned to Jimmy Moran.
“Where’s your bronc, Jimmy?”
Jimmy told him where he had left it, and Roaring sent one of the Big 4 cowboys to git it. Franklyn Moran went up to the sheriff.
“You going to put him in jail?” he asked.
Roaring cuffed his hat on the side of his head and looked quizzically at Moran. “What do you think?” he asked. “Ain’t there a law ag’in callin’ men to their own door at night and shootin’ ’em down?”
“But—but if Conley shot at him?” spluttered Moran.
“Jimmy ain’t claimed that he did, has he?”
Moran turned to his son.
“He did, didn’t he, Jimmy?” anxiously.
“No,” replied Jimmy wearily. “He didn’t even see me.”
“Don’t be a fool,” growled Regan angrily.
“That’s enough,” said Roaring firmly. “The doctor don’t need you, and I’m sure I don’t, so you might as well go home. C’mon, Jimmy.”