The Brand Burners of Cimarron — page 20: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“Don’t care! 18 The Brand-Burners of Cimarron. “Hallo, stranger !” saluted the fore- most, reining his steed to a walk. “ Don’t check yer hoss on this ford, fer thar’s quicksand thar, an’ et hes a mighty grip. “ Goin’ south?” “Some little distance, yes.” *““So’re we; eh, Pete?” “Ter Tiptop—ye bet ?’ Then the two cowboys urged their horses into the water, and in another minute the three were riding abreast. A second glance at the fellows warned Major Duncan to be on his guard. His lips curled grimly, and his dark brow gathered in a slight frown. Beyond that, he gave no sign of alarm or uneasiness, but talked freely with his unbidden com- pany. The river forded, the three horsemen ascended the long slope at a trot, and entered the shadows of the woodland. At that juncture, the bark of a coyote jarred through the forest. It was follow- ed by a rustling sound in the under- growth bordering the trail, and the two cowboys swung their horses closer be- side that bestrode by the traveler, while from the lips of one came the cry: “ Hold, old man! You are a prisoner! “ Resist, and we shall kill you !” A double report—a vivid flash, right and left—an oath and a cry of pain, all quickly followed the words, and Major Iuncan spurred forward, with the gold- bound butt of a smoking revolver grasped in each hand. Then a yell of fury rang through the timber, and into the trail bounded three men, each with a coiled lasso in hand. “ Stiddy, pards, an’ throw shore; but ef rope fails, use lead,” shouted the fore- most, none other than Noolan. “Ho! ho !—down he comes True enough; enmeshed in two of the whirling nooses, Major Duncan was jerk- ed from the saddle, to fall with stunning force, " When consciousness returned, he found himself tied astride of a horse—disarm- ed, bound and gagged. On each side was an outlaw, while in advance rode the third, leading two horses, on each of which was strapped a silent and motionless figure. A half-hour thus, then the party drew rein before a number of buildings, and Noolan said: “T’m off, now, pards, so hev a keer. “Shove ther pris’ner in ther old wolf- den an’ guard ’im night an’ day till Cap’n Brand shows up. After thet—ha! ha!” The others joined in the ghoulish chuckle, and Noolan rode away. '?? CHAPTER XXII. THR BLACK BRAVOS. “ Dey’s soun’ f’m hoof to hohn, boss— ’deed dey is! An’ not a critter undah sixteen hund’ed—strong, sah. ’P’int yo’ bahgain, sah—lump er weigh? Heh? Pick ob de roun’-up, suah !” “Oh, yas. Ruther a good bunch, I al- lows, Charcoal. But—how many stolen, ye say?” “Stolen? Oof! Heah dat, Snow— ‘heah dat! ” ; “He! he! Gem’men mighty funny, ‘pear ter me, Charc’! “*Spect we hab ter show ’im de bills, eh?” “ Bill o’ sale? Ye got et, then, darkies?” “Fer suah, boss! Two ob ’em!” in dignantly. ‘‘ What yo’ fink’we trabel on? —our shape?” Foss Martin deigned no reply, just then. Taking the fluttering bits of paper from Charcoal’s grimy hand, he went deftly over the panting, bellowing herd, then re- turned to the two black horsemen at the corral gate, and nodded crisply. “ Thirty-five head, boys, lump at thirty. dollars ther head.” The negroes exchanged glances. _“How’s dat, Marse Martin? thirty-eight—” : “Three queer brands I don’t want. Won’t have ’em! Cut ‘em out, an’ get ’em away from hyar—quick, Charcoal !” “We done bought ’em—’”’ They’re dangerous—for Dar’s Y as ae 4 ‘ yy a “gt thee ; ‘ . Rees, ‘~ ¥ : ae * i ol ee > 0)» « - * ." 5 A) ee ; S : ~“ M4 * + OO ' , ae oe Pee . ° ’ iw q ibe ee & Jha @ ab you fellows! D’ye heur? ’Tother bill seems straight. Clear ther queers, then come over to town an’ get yer money— ten hundred an’ fifty.” Both negroes nodded sullenly, but ob- jected no further. Foss Martin was a man to be feared, and there was a look m his deep-set gray eyes, just then, that both read’ aright. Calling a couple of his men to assist the black drovers in cutting out the ob- jectionable animals, the cattleman swung himself into the saddle, and galloped in- to P—, anxious to reach the bank before it closed for the day. Soon the drovers appeared. They were an ill-looking pair, tall and powerfully built, black as coal, with heavy, brutal faces and blood-shot eyes. While fully armed, booted and spurred, each was roughly dressed, and wore a huge slouched hat with the brim pinned up in front. Foss Martin quickly finished his busi- ness with them, exacting receipt and bill of sale. That done, the black drovers rode away to a livery stable and put up their horses, while the cattleman quietly sought tbe marshal. Talbott was readily found. “Thar’s another big drive on, an’ ther vanguard is in,” Martin informed him. “Same niggers ag’in.” “With same brand?” “Yas, thirty-five head o’ ther ole Double Star an’ Bar—X, f’m ther Nation. But thar was three ‘lifts’ on a sep’rate bill, this time, which same ther cusses shore hed ter cut out.” “Brand burned?” “You’re shoutin’, Talbott; but no new job.” “ And these queer cattle? ” “ Ask Curly Kidd. I putt him up ter help split ’em out, an’ he’s shore onto his job.” “ All right, Foss. I’ll send the boys along the river at once, and we'll watch night and day. I’d give a full year’s pay to corral the gang.” Thus speaking, Marshal Talbott nodded and moved away to post his men and watch the movements of the two negroes. Charcoal and Snow, evidently, were in no hurry to quit the town. When they had stabled their horses they began gam- bling and drinking, and evoted the re- mainder of the day and the greater por- tion of the night to those questionable pleasures. At daybreak the marshal and a half- dozen men went out to the sentries pagst- ed along the river. They reported all quiet, and were relieved. The day wore away quietly in the lit- tle town. Some time after noon the black drovers again appeared on the street. Both wore a sullen, suspicious air. Tying their horses in a convenient spot, they en- tered a saloon, and, joined by the roughs lounging about, again began drinking and spending money with lavish hands. About four o’clock, Charcoal drew one of the ruffians aside, and asked: ‘“‘How’s de wind?” “ Bt’s in ther north, Chare’.” ‘Yo’ want some money?” ‘Fer shore! ” “Kin yo keep still, an’ do a trick?” “PHv’ry day! ” “Den I’se got fifty dollahs fo’ yo’. Git yo’ pa’dner, an’ go fiah de woods ‘long de ribber, ’bout da’k. One go east, one go west, bout a mile back, an’ out er mile er two. See?” The rough nodded and winked. “Yer wants ter drive them sentries out,” he remarked. “Yah! Dat’s a fac’, mebbe. Take yo’ money, do yo’ trick, an’ keep still. "Mem- bah, jes’ at da’k.” Again nodding, the rough thrust the roll of bills into his pocket. A moment later, he beckoned to a man in the crowd and withdrew. How well the miscreant kept his com- pact, the reader has seen. About this time Marshal Talbott en- countered Foss Martin on the street and stopped him. string it od - * — “ Well, Foss, I’ve failed to see Curly Kidd,” he announced. : “Yas, I reckon. He’s bin in ther bresh all night an’ all day, an’ jest rode in a half-hour ago.’’ “And the queer cattle? ” “Down the river eight miles, roped out fer ther gang ter pick up when they slip through with ther main bunch. Coons slipped them g@way late in the night. . Reckon ye kin prove ’em all right, fer Curly, he putt a private brand on ’em what he kin sw’are too.” “ Good enough! As the next move, we'd better run in Charcoal and Snow. They’re up to the old trick, to divert attention from the river. Listen to that! ” Talbott’s face wore a portentous frown as he pointed to the saloon, from the in- terior of Which came whoops and yells, and wild snatches of song. “Every straggler, every tough, and every idler in the town is there,” he con- tinued. “If I had posse enough I’d run in-the whole mob, to cool them off in the lock-up! ”’ The cattleman nodded and quietly fol- lowed the marshal into the resort. But notice of their approach had been given by a man at the window, and the more timid, reading Talbott’s purpose aright, hastily slipped away through the rear door. Then the crowd at the end of the bar opened and fell back, and the marshal and his ally found themselves entrapped! Confronting them, each with a brace of heavy revolvers, cocked, and leveled, stood the two black bravos! “Slow an’ stiddy, gem’men!” warned Charcoal, ever the spokesman of the pair, his bloodshot eyes glowing evilly. “ Yo’ ha’n’t no call ter come a-pushin’ dis time, I reckons! | “Step right up to de bah an’ drink my good health! ‘Don’ shake yo’. heads an’ say yo’ cain’t, gem’mens, foh yo’ eder drinks my health, or yo’ nebber drinks no mo’ - at all!” A murmur of approval.came from the roughs ranged around the room—a mur- mur rendered The more ominous by the clicking of numerous pistol locks, and Talbott’s face grew white. The black desperadoes meant murder, there could be no doubt; that fell in- tent shone from their reddened eyes, and lurked in each wolfish curl] of their heavy lips. Humiliation first, then death! Talbott’s sharp, white teeth met with an audible click, and his eyes glowed with the courage of a fearless soul; yet he was utterly helpless, and he knew it! And Foss Martin was equally cour- ageous, equally impotent! A moment thus; then the rear door opened and a man stepped silently across the threshold. A single glance explained the startling scene, and he lightly leaped forward with the warning: “Steady, Talbott! Steady, all! Beer up, you black scoundrels, or e! 33 s Alarmed by that stern hail, Charcoal quickly wheeled, and his voice rang out, fierce and despairing: “Stan to ’em, Snow, straight! “Et’s Pawnee Bill, an’ we’s got ter fight!” © His weapon exploded, and the bali buried itself in a wall of the room. Before either bravo could fire again, a double report jarred the building, and the strug- gle was ended. an’ shoot CHAPTER XXIII. PAWNEE’S NIGHT TRAIL The steady hand and trained eye of Pawnee Bill, the deputy marshal, had sent his lead true, and the black bravos would never again act as the vanguard and screen of the returning ranch raiders. 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