Two Fares East/Chapter 6
HASHKNIFE SMELLS A RAT
SOMETIME during that night the trouble shooters for the telegraph company had repaired the break, and this enabled the despatchers to straighten out the trains. The cattle-train headed out of Pinnacle City the following morning, minus two cowboys.
The depot agent knew about this, and told Len Kelsey that there were two lost cow-punchers somewhere on the east side of the river. The agent knew from what he had heard the crew of the cattle-train say that these men had left the train, intending to walk down to the wagon-bridge. But he also knew they had taken their war-bags with them and had buckled on their belts and guns before leaving the train.
“Kinda looks as though they intended missin’ the train,” said Kelsey.
“Might be worth investigating, Sheriff. The passenger was close behind the cattle-train for a long time out there by the bridge. And that express messenger had been hit so hard on the head that he wasn’t sure of anything.”
“Sure—I’ll look into it,” agreed Len. “I won’t leave any stone unturned.”
He had read this in a book, and it sounded like the proper thing for a sheriff to say.
HASHKNIFE and Sleepy did not mention to Peggy that Honey Bee had told them about her troubles. She was in good spirits that morning, and even Wong Lee sang at his work. Laura told Honey that Peggy had talked quite a while about the tall cowboy and his wonderful grin—and Honey told Hashknife about it.
“Didn’t either of ’em mention me?” asked Sleepy. “No? That’s tough. But how could I grin, with my jaw all swelled? But that’s jist my luck!”
Honey offered to take them to Pinnacle City in the buggy. They were hitching up the horses when Len Kelsey and Jack Ralston rode in.
“Now, what do them whippoorwills want?” growled Honey. “That’s the sheriff and deputy.”
“What had we ought to do—put up our hands?” asked Sleepy.
The two officers dismounted and spoke to Honey.
“Howdy,” growled Honey.
Hashknife could plainly see that Honey Bee did not care for these two officers of the law.
Len Kelsey studied Hashknife and Sleepy for a moment.
“I reckon you boys are the two missin’ members of the cattle-train outfit, eh?”
“If there’s two missin’—we’re both of ’em,” said Hashknife gravely. “Has the train left Pinnacle City?”
“Before daylight.”
“Stranded again,” groaned Sleepy. “I’ll never see the East, that’s a cinch.”
Hashknife hitched up his belt and leaned against the buggy.
“Yuh wasn’t exactly lookin’ for us, was yuh?” he asked.
“I don’t hardly think so,” replied Kelsey. “The safe on the express car of the passenger train that stopped back of yuh at the bridge last night was dynamited somewhere between Kelo and Pinnacle City.”
Hashknife and Sleepy exchanged a quick glance. That might explain why a shot had been fired at them in the dark. They had blundered into the bandit who was making his getaway.
“For gosh sake!” snorted Honey. “Did they get much, Len?”
“Dunno how much. One man pulled the job, Honey—a man who wore black leather cuffs with silver stars, and a bone handled six-shooter.”
“Leather cuffs with silver stars and bone—” Honey stopped and came in closer to the sheriff.
“Are yuh sure of that, Len?”
“That’s the messenger’s description.”
“Well, for gosh sake!”
Honey looked toward the house, shaking his head sadly.
“You recognize the description?” asked Hashknife.
“Joe Rich,” said Honey. “He made the stars and put ’em on a pair of black cuffs and he made the bone handles for his gun. Yuh say yuh don’t know how much he got, Len?”
“No, I don’t, Honey. But it was enough, I reckon.”
“Uh-huh. Excuse me, I forgot to introduce you gents.”
After the introduction they all sat down on the steps of the bunk-house and rolled smokes. Hashknife did not tell the sheriff about the shot that was fired at them in the dark.
“I dunno just where to start,” admitted Kelsey. “I’ve been huntin’ Joe Rich all over these hills, and now he comes back and robs a train right under my nose.”
Kelsey, who was still wearing his arm in a sling, noticed Hashknife looking at it.
“A little souvenir of makin’ a fool move,” he said.
“Yeah, I heard about it,” nodded Hashknife. “Joe Rich must be pretty fast with a gun, eh?”
“Fast enough,” growled Kelsey. “Funny, ain’t it? Here I was his deputy all this time, and now I’m huntin’ him. Don’t seem right.”
“Are yuh dead sure it is?” asked Hashknife seriously.
Kelsey looked quickly at him.
“Dead sure?” Kelsey laughed shortly. “Well, about as sure as anythin’ could be, Hartley. I dunno what got into Joe. He was sure strong on enforcin’ the law, and now he seems just as strong on breakin’ it.”
“Them’s the kind that go wrong—when they do go,” said Ralston.
“Yeah, you know a of a lot about it,” snorted Honey.
“Well, it allus works out that way.”
“It does, eh? I suppose yuh knowed two months ago that Joe Rich would turn out bad. What do yuh use—palmistry or one of them glass balls?”
“Aw, yuh don’t need to get sore, Honey.”
“Thasso? Every time I think about Joe, I get sore. I wish I knowed where he was hidin’ out.”
“Me, too,” grinned Kelsey. “I’d be a thousand better off.”
“Yea-a-a-ah? Well, when you find out where he is, yuh better take plenty of help along to get him, Len; two of yuh ain’t enough.”
Kelsey could see that the argument might wax rather hot; so he got to his feet, stretched wearily and told Ralston they better be going. Nobody asked them to stay. Honey looked after them morosely.
“Don’t like ’em, eh?” queried Hashknife.
“No! You boys go ahead and hitch up the team. I’ve got to tell the girls about that robbery. I sure as hate to tell Peggy that they think Joe pulled that job, but I’d rather tell her than to have her get it from somebody else.”
The team was hitched when Honey came back, and he drove out to the main road.
“How did she take it?” asked Hashknife.
Honey looked at Hashknife, a pained expression on his face.
“A-a-a-aw, !” he said explosively.
“Does she believe it?”
“Huh! I dunno what she believes. Yuh can’t tell nothin’ about a woman, Hartley. She didn’t say anythin’. I was wonderin’ if she heard what I told her, but I reckon she did. Anyway she didn’t say anythin’—jist walked away.”
They jolted along over the rough road. Honey turned to Hashknife, a grin on his lips.
“I ain’t no gentleman,” he said.
“Ain’t yuh?” asked Hashknife.
“Nossir,” Honey shook his head violently. “Can’t lie good enough. Laura said I ought to be crowned with an ax-handle for comin’ in and tellin’ Peggy that Joe Rich robbed the train. She said I should have lied about it.”
“Mebbe yuh should.”
“Cinch! Giddap! I always think of a lie too late. Some day I’m goin’ to be hung for tellin’ the truth.”
“You’ll be the first puncher that ever had that honor,” said Sleepy. “There’s that bridge we was huntin’ for, Hashknife. If we’d ’a’ found it last night, we’d be on our way East right now.”
“Glad yuh didn’t,” grinned Honey, as they rattled over the loose floor-planks of the bridge. “It’s only a little ways out here to where Jim Wheeler was killed. I’ll show yuh the place.”
He drove off the bridge and around to the spot where Joe had found Jim Wheeler. Honey knew the exact spot and drew just off the road. Hashknife walked up and down the road while Honey explained things to him. The rain of the night before had laid the dust, and the road was almost as smooth as asphalt.
After looking the place over they rode on to Pinnacle City, where they met Uncle Hozie Wheeler and Aunt Emma. Honey introduced them to Hashknife and Sleepy, and told how they happened to be in the Tumbling River country.
They had heard about the train robbery. It seemed to be the general opinion that Joe Rich had done it.
“I knowed him a long time,” said Uncle Hozie. “He never struck me as bein’ a bad boy in any way. I don’t sabe him. Why he jist went all to in a week!”
“Does Peggy know about it?” asked Aunt Emma.
“Yeah,” Honey nodded solemnly. “Yeah, she knows. But I’ve told her the last bad news I’ll ever tell.”
“Took it hard, did she, Honey?”
“I dunno. She never said anythin’. Laura give me . Sometimes I think that girl don’t care for the truth. Oh, if she wants lies, I reckon I can supply her.”
Uncle Hozie and Aunt Emma were going to ride out to the HJ to see the girls. Curt Bellew and Ed Merrick were at the Pinnacle. They shook hands with Honey, who introduced Hashknife and Sleepy.
“What do yuh think of Joe Rich now?” asked Curt, after he had invited them to share his hospitality.
“Jist the same as I always did,” declared Honey. “Somethin’ has gone wrong with the boy. How’s the Circle M, Merrick?”
“All right, Honey. I’ll bet yore old ranch-house leaked last night.”
“Did it? My gosh, I’ll betcha it did. Ask Hartley and Stevens; they showed up in the rain. Yuh see, they was on that stalled cow-train, and Stevens had a tooth ache; so they tried to find their way to the wagon-bridge in order to get to town. But I reckon they got kinda lost, and ended up at the HJ.”
Merrick laughed.
“I don’t believe I could have found my way either—as well as I know the country. Whew! It sure was dark and wet. My place didn’t leak, but it got damp. Are you boys goin’ to be with us a while?”
“I dunno,” Hashknife leaned an elbow on the bar and began rolling a cigaret. “It looks as though Fate kinda dropped us off here for some reason or other.”
“Too bad it’s the slack season. I’m short two men of my regular crew, but there ain’t enough work for me and Ben Collins and ‘Dutch’ Seibert. Later on I might use yuh.”
“I loaned Honey to the HJ,” laughed Bellew. “I’ve still got Eph Harper and Slim Coleman on my hands. Ma says that’s two men too many. She allus says I’m tryin’ to make a mountain out of a molehill—meanin’ that I can’t ever hire enough men to make the Lazy B a big cow-outfit.”
While they were drinking a man came in whom the bartender seemed to know. It was the telegraph operator at the depot. He bought a drink and a cigar.
“I suppose the sheriff is hunting bandits,” he said.
“We seen him out at the HJ this mornin’,” offered Honey.
The man nodded.
“I was just over to his office, but there wasn’t anybody home. Had a telegram for him from Ransome. They found a little gold penknife in the express car. It didn’t belong to the messenger, he said. The wire said there were the initials J. R. on the handle.”
“J. R.?” said Honey. “Little gold knife! My gosh, that’s the knife Peggy gave Joe for his birthday!”
“I dunno,” said the man vacantly. “All I know is what the wire said. I reckon it will keep until the sheriff gets back.”
He went out, and Merrick laughed softly.
“He guesses it will keep. Ha, ha, ha, ha!”
Honey leaned on the bar and looked dismally at himself in the mirror.
“I’ll not tell Peggy,” he declared, but amended it with, “I might come right out and tell her that if anybody says they found Joe Rich’s gold knife on that car—they lie.”
“Why even mention it?” asked Hashknife.
“Mebbe that’s the best thing to do. Oh, they’ve got Joe cinched!”
“But he overlooked one bet,” said Hashknife thoughtfully.
“What was that?” asked Merrick.
“He forgot to carve his name on the safe.”
“Is that meant to be serious?” asked Merrick.
“No-o-o-o,” drawled Hashknife. “I suppose I’m jokin’.”
“Aw, he wouldn’t write his name on the safe,” said Honey.
“Might as well,” grinned Hashknife. “It sure shows that Joe is a beginner at the game. A regular hold-up man don’t tag his work thataway.”
Merrick looked seriously at Hashknife.
“You talk as though you were familiar with hold-up men, Hartley.”
“No; I just use common sense, Merrick.”
“Uh-huh. Well, it’s a good thing to use. A lot of us don’t do it.”
“No, that’s true,” admitted Hashknife seriously.
Merrick scratched his chin and turned back to the bar. He wasn’t exactly sure whether this tall, level-eyed cowboy was making fun of him or not. He had the feeling that he was, but there was nothing to justify this feeling. Both of the strange cowboys were very serious of face, and Sleepy’s blue eyes looked entirely innocent. But Merrick did not know that Sleepy’s innocent blue eyes were his greatest asset.
“I wonder if the sheriff’s office had anythin’ to go on this mornin’,” said Merrick.
“Couple of horses,” replied Sleepy. “Now let me buy a drink, will yuh?”
“I’ve got to go kinda easy,” said Curt Bellew. “I git down here and lap up liquor, and have to eat cloves all the way back to the ranch.”
“And then prove why yuh ate cloves,” grinned Honey.
“Sure. Honey, if yo’re a wise boy, you’ll stay sober and single.”
“A-a-aw, I don’t drink much, Curt.”
“Yuh don’t get married much either, do yuh?”
“Well,” laughed Honey, “I won’t get drunk and forget to get married.”
Bellew and Merrick left the saloon and a few minutes later Honey, Hashknife and Sleepy stocked up on tobacco and rode back to the HJ.
“I feel foolish goin’ back there,” said Hashknife. “Kinda looks as though we were imposin’ on yuh.”
“Yuh throw that in a can,” said Honey. “Yo’re welcome to stay as long as yuh can. I can’t quite sabe you two boys.”
“Jist in what way?”
“Well, I never seen yuh before until last night. Yuh come in and I forget that I don’t know yuh. I tell yuh all about the trouble, and—well, yuh know what I mean don’tcha? It jist seemed the natural thing, to do. And Wong Lee took to yuh. Wong’s kinda funny thataway.
“Why, sometimes the boys from the Circle M stop here. Yuh see they go past here to their ranch from town. Wong ain’t never spoken to one of ’em. Other fellers show up here at meal-time, and Wong says nothin’. But he shore talked to yuh, and promised yuh more meals. Do dogs ever foller yuh?”
“Sometimes,” laughed Hashknife.
“I’ll betcha. Never bite yuh, do they?”
“Haven’t yet.”
“Never will. Huh!” Honey jerked up on the lines. “I know what the word is. I read somethin’ about it in a magazine. It’s called personality. Know what it means, Hartley?”
“Yeah, I think I do.”
“Well, that’s what you’ve got. Giddap, broncs! Joe Rich had it. His must ’a’ back-fired on him.”
Hashknife laughed. Honey Bee was so sincere in his statements.
“Was Rich a good sheriff?” asked Hashknife.
“Y’betcha. Joe was a man that wouldn’t stop at anythin’ to enforce the law. Some men kinda play fav’rites, yuh know. But Joe wasn’t that kind. At least I don’t reckon he was, and I knew him awful well.”
“How did it happen that you wasn’t his deputy?”
“Politics,” explained Honey. “Merrick controls a lot of votes in this county, and he told Joe he’d support him if he’d appoint Len Kelsey deputy. Joe agreed, and it was the Merrick vote that won for Joe.”
“Who was the other candidate?”
“John Leeds, of Ransome. He’s a hard old customer, Hartley. He was sheriff before Joe was elected, and he made a lot of enemies. Pretty smart, too. I’ll betcha, if old John was sheriff he’d ’a’ been on the trail of that robber before daylight. He was a sticker, old John was, and nobody ever told him what to do. Mebbe that’s why he got beat.”
They drove along to where Jim Wheeler had been killed, and Hashknife leaned out of the buggy. But he did not say anything. They drove across the bridge and to the HJ, where they saw the Flying H buggy team tied to the front porch.
“Uncle Hozie and Aunt Emma,” said Honey. “They’re salt of the earth, gents. Always tryin’ to do somethin’ for yuh. Aunt Emma hops all over yuh for doin’ somethin’, but all the time she’s laughin’ inside at yuh. They don’t make ’em any better. Hozie and Jim was pretty thick, and it hurt Hozie to see old Jim pass out. He didn’t say much—but that’s his way. Tears don’t show much—except moisture.”
Hashknife and Sleepy went to the bunk-house, and did not see Uncle Hozie and his wife until they were ready to drive away. Honey had told them about the gold- handled knife, but did not tell Peggy. A little later Ed Merrick stopped on his way out to the Circle M and talked with the three cowboys about the robbery of the night before. He was expecting a horse buyer from Kelo, so did not linger long.
“How are prices in this range?” asked Hashknife.
“Depends on the buyer,” replied Merrick. “Some of ’em play square with yuh. The horse market ain’t very strong, and we have to almost take what’s offered. This buyer wants quite a lot of horses, so he says.”
“For Eastern market?”
“Yeah, I think so. Anyway, the buyer is from the East.”
Merrick rode away and a few minutes later Wong Lee rang the dinner bell. Peggy and Laura did not eat with the boys, but a little later Hashknife wandered around the rear of the house and found Peggy sitting on an old bench in the shade of the cottonwoods, a picture of abject lonesomeness.
Hashknife squatted down on his heels against the tree and rolled a cigaret. Neither of them had spoken. Peggy sighed and leaned back against the bole of the tree, watching Hashknife’s long, lean fingers fashion a cigaret.
“My, it’s shore peaceful out here!” said Hashknife.
Peggy nodded slowly.
“Yes, it is peaceful.”
“It kinda looks as though we were imposin’ on yuh.”
“You are not,” declared Peggy quickly. “I’m glad you came. And I don’t know why I’m glad. Queer, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s queer. Life’s a queer thing. Yesterday we were on our way East in that caboose, when the bridge caught fire and changed everythin’. Yuh never know what will come tomorrow.”
“I realize that, Mr. Hartley. I suppose Honey has told you of the things that have happened lately.”
“Well, yeah, I reckon we’ve heard quite a lot about it, ma’am. It shore was tough luck. Are yuh goin’ away with Miss Hatton?”
“No; I can’t.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” she said wearily. “You see, I’ve got to stay and see that things are straightened up. Dad owed the bank seven thousand. Oh, I wish he had let things go as they were! I didn’t need that trip. He was so thoughtful of me, and he thought I’d like to get away for a while. Now he’s gone, and the ranch—we’ll have to sell everything in order to pay the debts.”
“That’s shore tough. Miss Wheeler, I’d like to know more about Joe Rich. I don’t like to be personal, but I’d like to get yore opinion of him.”
“My opinion?” Peggy laughed bitterly. “I don’t think it is worth much, Mr. Hartley.”
“Yore honest opinion, I mean.”
“My honest opinion?”
“Yeah. Yuh see we all have two opinions on things like that—the one we express and the one we hide.”
“I—I think I know what you mean, Mr. Hartley.”
“Fine. I wish you’d leave the mister off my name. All my friends call me Hashknife. When anybody says ‘Mr. Hartley’ I look around to see who they’re speakin’ to. Now, yuh jist go ahead and tell me about Joe Rich.”
Peggy looked earnestly at Hashknife.
“Why should I? Why do you wish to know about Joe Rich—my opinion of him? Who are you, anyway?”
Hashknife studied his boot-toes for several moments, but finally looked up at her with a grin in his eyes.
“It’s kinda queer,” he admitted. “But I’m one of them funny folks who always asks questions. All my life I’ve asked a lot of questions, Miss Wheeler. Sometimes I find out things. I’m like the feller who said he made up his mind to kiss every pretty woman he met. Somebody said—
“‘I’ll bet you got whipped a lot of times,’ and he said—
“‘Well, yeah, I did, but I shore got a lot of kisses.’
“And that’s the way with me—except that I was after answers instead of kisses.”
Peggy laughed with him.
“But I don’t see yet,” she said. “What good will my opinion do you? What do you want to know about Joe Rich?”
“Well, it’s like this, Miss Wheeler: Yore opinion of him will go quite a ways with me. If I was to come right out and ask yuh if yuh loved Joe Rich in spite of everythin’ he’s done to yuh—what would yuh say?”
Peggy turned her head away and rested her chin on her hand. After a space of time she shook her head.
“That isn’t a fair question,” she said softly.
“No, but yuh gave me a fair answer,” said Hashknife. “I’d like to shake hands with yuh, Miss Wheeler.”
Wonderingly she shook hands with him, and he smiled down at her, his gray eyes twinkling.
“But I—I didn’t answer you,” she said, choking slightly.
“Oh, yes yuh did, Peggy. I’m goin’ to call yuh Peggy. If yuh can love him in spite of everythin’ he’s done, by golly, he’s worth savin’ for yuh.”
“Worth saving?” Peggy got to her feet. “I don’t understand. How can you save him?”
“I dunno exactly,” Hashknife scratched his head, tilting his sombrero over one eye. “But there ain’t nothin’ that can’t be done.”
“But what could save him? Why, they’re hunting for him now—offering a big reward.”
The tears came into her eyes and she turned away. Hashknife patted her on the shoulder.
“Keep smilin’,” he said softly. “Remember how it was here last night? All wind and rain, wasn’t it? And today the sun is shinin’ and the sky is blue. Life’s like that, Peggy. The old sky gets pretty black and all clouded up, but the old sun is always on the job, and it breaks through eventually.”
“It is wonderful to look at things in that way, Hashknife.”
“I think so, Peggy. My old man was that way. He preached the gospel in bunk-houses and out on the range. But he didn’t wear a long face and say long prayers. He said he wasn’t trying to make folks fit to die—he was makin’ ’em fit to live. And after all, that’s the gospel. If yo’re fit to live, yuh’ll be fit to die. And when yo’re fit to live yuh’ll always see the sun behind the clouds.”
Peggy smiled at him through her tears.
“I’m glad you came here,” she said simply, and went back to the house.
Hashknife sat down on the bench and rolled a fresh cigaret. Sleepy had been sitting on the bunk-house steps, but now he came up to Hashknife and sat down beside him.
“Well, what do yuh know, cowboy?” queried Sleepy.
“What do I know?” Hashknife grinned wistfully at his smoke. “I know I’ve bit off a of a big chew for one man to masticate.”
“Yeah,” nodded Sleepy, “yuh mostly always do, Hashknife.”
“Uh-huh. Where’s Honey?”
“Settin’ on the front porch with Laura. By golly, if this keeps up I’m goin’ to get me a squaw! You at one end of the place and Honey at the other. While Mister Stevens sets on the bunk-house steps all alone. And he’s the best-lookin’ man on the ranch, too.”
“Who is—Honey?”
“Na-a-aw—Stevens! Honey’s second.”
“And I’m third,” grinned Hashknife.”
“Sure,” said Sleepy. “Wong Lee don’t count, because he’s a Chinaman.”
“I’m glad one entry is scratched. There goes the sheriff and his hired hand.”
Len Kelsey and Jack Ralston rode past, heading for the old bridge.
“Reckon they didn’t have very good luck,” observed Sleepy. “That must ’a’ been Joe Rich we almost ran into in the rain. He was just makin’ his getaway, eh?”
“Looks thataway, Sleepy. Mebbe we should ’a’ told the sheriff about it.”
“That wouldn’t help him any; yuh can’t foller horse tracks.”
“No, yuh can’t,” agreed Hashknife getting up. “I reckon we better go down and see how many ridin’ rigs there are on this place, and pick out a horse.”
“Yuh mean to stay here a while, Hashknife?”
“It ain’t an unpleasant place, is it?”
“No-o-o, but—”
“Yuh didn’t hope to catch that train, didja?”
“The cattle-train? Certainly not.”
“Have yuh got any other place you’d like to go to?”
“No-o-o-o, I reckon not, Hashknife.”
“Fine! Then yuh don’t mind stayin’ a day or so, eh?”
They looked seriously at each other for a moment and both grinned widely as they headed for the stable.