The Luck of the Mounted Part 23

A stern smile flitted over Yorke's high-bred features. "Appeal sustained," he announced decisively, "eh, Reddy?"

For answer, his comrade arose and silently wrung the doctor's hand; then, without show of emotion, he resumed his seat and likewise his cleaning operations. Yorke, as silently, duplicated his comrade's actions. The ex-Naval surgeon said nothing; but his eyes glistened strangely as he dropped into an easy chair and proceeded to envelope himself in a cloud of smoke,

Suddenly the nasal voice of the teamster, Lanky Jones, made itself heard.

"How 'bout me?" he drawled, "ain't I in on this, too? I kin look after th' hawsses, anyways, fur yeh!"

"Arrah thin! hark tu um?" said Slavin, in mock despair. "Docthor, 'tis a bad example ye're setting All right, thin, Lanky, ye shall come, an' ye wish ut. An' as man tu man--I thank ye! We will all go a 'moonlightin'

tugither. Eyah!" he resumed reminiscently, "many's th' toime I mind me ould father--G.o.d rist him!--tellin' th' tales av thim days, whin times was harrd in Oireland, an' rints wint up an' th' pore was dhriven well-nigh desprit. How him an' his blood-cousin, Tim Moriarty, lay wan night for an' ould rapparee av a landlord, who'd evicted pore Tim out av house an' home. Tim had an' ould blundherbuss, all loaded up wid bits av nales an' screws an' such-like, wid a terribul big charrge av powther behint ut. Four solid hours did they wait for um--forninst a hedge on th' road he had tu come home by, from Ballymeen Fair.

"By an' by they hears um a-comin . . . a-hollerin' an' laughin' tu umsilf, an' roarin' an' singin' 'Th' Jug av Potheen.' Full av ut, tu, by token av th' voice av um. Tim makes all ready wid th' blundherbuss. All av a suddint tho', th' tchune shtops, an' tho' they waits for um for quite a toime, he niver shows up. By an' by they gets fed up wid lyin'

belly-down in th' soakin' rain. 'H-mm! mighty quare!' sez me father, 'I wonder fwhat's happened tu th' pore ould ginthleman?' 'Let us go luk for um?' sez Tim, wid blood in his oi, ''tis may be he's on'y shtoppin' tu take another dhrink out av th' jug.'

"So, up th' road they goes a piece, till they comes tu a bog at th' side av ut. An' there they finds um--head-first shtuck in th' bog--just th'

tu feet av um shtickin' out an' which boots Tim sez he can swear tu.

'Begorrah!' sez me father, 'that accounts for th' tchune shtoppin' so suddint! Let us luk for th' jug?' Well, they hunts around for th' jug awhile, but all they finds is his ould caubeen. So they shtuck that on wan of his feet, an' Tim, he pins th' warrant av evictmint tu ut, currsin' somethin' fierce th' whiles bekase he was done out av getthin' a shot at the 'ould rapparee wid th' blundherbuss."

Slavin shook his head slowly at the conclusion of the story. "Eyah!" he said wistfully, "many's th' toime have I heard me father tell that same tale. They must have been shtirrin' times, thim!" In characteristic fas.h.i.+on his mood suddenly changed. His face hardened, as with upraised hand he silenced the burst of laughter he had provoked from his hearers.

"Ginthlemen!" he resumed quietly, "we're none av us cowards here, but--no need tu remind yu'--fwhat sort av a man we are goin' up against this night."

Unconsciously he drew himself up, with an air of simple, rugged dignity that well became his grim visage and powerful frame. In that hour of impending danger the brave, true, kindly heart of the man stood revealed--a personality which endeared him to Yorke and Redmond beyond any ties of friends.h.i.+p they had known.

Slowly he repeated, "we are none av us cowards here, but--remimber Larry Blake, an' that pore hobo shtiff back in th' shed there. An' remimber thim dogs this mornin'. We du not want tu undherrate um. We du not want tu cop ut like did Wilde, whin he wint tu arrest Charcoal; or Colebrook, whin he tackled Almighty Voice. Maybe he'll just come a-yawnin' tu th'

dhure, wid th' dhrawlin' English s.p.a.che av um, sayin' 'Well, bhoys, an'

fwhat's doin'?' An' yet again--may be he's all nerves afther th' bad break he made in front av us this mornin'--expectin' us--eyah!--waithin', watchin' belike, wid his gun in his fisht. Luk at th' way he acted afther his gun play--leery as h.e.l.l. . . ."

"Yes!" said Yorke thoughtfully, "egad! there was something darned queer in the way he acted, all right. Guess we'd better take carbines along, eh, Burke? . . . in case we get let in for a man hunt. For all we know, he may have beat it already. Another thing--he may start in bucking us about not having a warrant--just to gain time?"

Slavin met the other's suggestion with a grim nod of acquiescence.

"Shure! we'll take thim," he said, "but"--his jaw set ruthlessly--"if I wanst get my grub-hooks on um . . . why! 'tis all up!--carbines, or no carbines--warrant or no warrant. Section thirty av th' Code covers th'

warrant bizness--in a case like this, anyways. Come on, thin, bhoys, saddle up! An' Lanky!--yu give me a hand wid th' team! we must be getthin'!"

Presently all was in readiness, and the small, well-armed party left the detachment under the light of a brilliant three-quarter moon. Slavin led in the police buckboard, with the doctor seated beside him, and Lanky Jones crouched behind them. Yorke and Redmond rode in the rear, with their carbines slung at the saddle-horn. It was a hazardous mission they were bound on, as they all fully realized now, knowing the terribly ruthless character of the man they sought to apprehend.

Descending the grade which led to the bend of the river they swung due east at a smart pace, following the winding Lower Trail. This last road ran past Gully's ranch, which lay some three miles distant. As they neared their objective the sergeant slackened his team down to a walking pace.

Suddenly Redmond tongue-clucked to himself in absent fas.h.i.+on. The sound of it roused Yorke out of the sombre reverie into which he had fallen.

"What's up, Red?" queried he waggishly, in a low voice, "dreaming you're taking that dive again, or what?"

"No!" muttered George abstractly in the same key. "I was thinking what a rum, unfathomable old beggar Slavin is. Fancy him springing that comical old yarn at such a time as this?"

"Ah!" murmured his comrade reflectively. "When you come to know Burke as well as I do you'll find he's generally got some motive for these little things--blarney and all. You laughed, didn't you? Guess we all of us gave the giddy 'ha! ha'.' Felt quite chipper after it, too, the bunch of us . . . well then?"

"Sh-s.h.!.+" came the sergeant's back-flung, guarded growl, "quit your gab there! We're gettin' nigh, bhoys--here's th' brush forninst his place . . . must go mighty quiet an' careful now."

Looming up dark and forbidding ahead of them they beheld the all-familiar sight of the huge, shadowy thicket of pine and Balm o' Gilead clumps that fringed the west end of Gully's ranch. Entering its gloomy depths, they felt their way slowly and cautiously along the stump-dotted trail. At intervals, from somewhere overhead, came the weird, depressing hoot of a long-eared owl, and, seemingly close at hand, the shrill, mocking "ki-yip-yapping" of coyotes echoed sharply in the stillness of the night.

Stray patches of moonlight began to filter upon the party once more as they gradually neared the end of the rough-hewn avenue; the thick growth of pine giving place to scattered cotton-wood clumps.

Arriving at the verge of the timber the party halted. There, some two hundred yards distant, upon a patch of open ground partially encircled by dense, willow-scrub, lay a ghostly-shadowed cl.u.s.ter of ranch buildings.

The living habitation itself stood upon a slightly raised knoll, hard upon the river-bank. To their nostrils the night air brought the strong, not unpleasant scent of cattle, drifting up from the numerous rec.u.mbent bovine forms which dotted the ground all around the ranch.

Awhile the party gazed speculatively at the habitation of him--the undoubted perpetrator of the deadly deeds--for whom they had sought so long. The peaceful aspect of their moonlit surroundings suddenly smote the minds of all with a strange sense of unreality, as full realization of the sinister import of their errand came home to them. In uncanny telepathy with their disturbed feelings sounded the owl's derisive hooting, and the persistent mocking raillery of the coyotes.

It was Slavin who broke the long, tense silence. "d.a.m.n that 'Dismal Jimmy' owl!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed testily, in a low tone--"an' thim ki-oots! . . . beggars all seem to be givin' us th' ha! ha! as if they knew. P'raps he has beat ut on us afther all? . . . 'Tis harrd tu say--we cannot shpot a glim from this side--winders all face east. Now!

luk a-here, all av yez!" He turned to his companions with a grim, determined face, his deep-set eyes glittering ominously in the light of the moon. "Lets get things cut-an'-dhried behfure we shtart in," he whispered. "Whin he knows th' jig's up--that's if he is in--he may act like a man av sinse, an' agree tu come peaceable--but--" and Slavin shook his head slowly--"if he refuses . . . fwhy? . . . 't'wud be straight suicide tu attimpt tu rush um. There's on'y wan dhure. Hidin' in th'

dark there, wid that Luger gun av his coverin' ut, we'd shtand no show at all. He'd put th' whole bunch av us out av business--in as many shots, behfure a man av us got a chance tu put fut inside. Now, let's see!" he murmured reflectively. "Fwhat is th' lay av th' shack agin? There's--"

"The door and two of the windows face east," interpolated Yorke, softly--"living-room and kitchen--one window to the south--that's his bed-room."

"Eyah! that's ut," whispered the sergeant, "now thin--Lanky--du yu' shtay right here wid th' ha.r.s.es. Kape yu're head--even if ye du hear shootin'.

Du not shtir from here onless ye get ordhers from wan av us." Turning to the others he continued in a sibilant hiss, "Yu, Reddy, shlip along th'

edge av th' brush here, an' over th' river-bank onto th' s.h.i.+ngle. Kape well down an' thread careful ontil ye come forninst th' back winder.

Thin pop yu're head up circ.u.mshpict an' cover ut wid yu're carbine. Use good judgmint tho'; none av us want tu shtart in shootin' onless we're forced tu ut. Ondher th' circ.u.mstances 'tis best we thry an' catch um alive."

For a moment Slavin stared after Redmond's crouching form, as his subordinate disappeared in the gloom, "Thrust no harm comes tu th' lad,"

he muttered irresolutely, "quick as a flash is th' bhoy wid his head, eyah! but he's inclined tu be over rash at toimes."

"Oh, he's all right," hissed Yorke rea.s.suringly, "don't you get worrying over him making any bad breaks, Burke. He's as fly as they make 'em."

Presently the sergeant faced round with a dreary sigh. "Come on thin, Docthor," he murmured heavily, "wid me an' Yorke."

Making a wide detour they circled the ranch and wormed their way cautiously through the dense scrub on its eastern side. Suddenly, with a warning gesture to his companions, the sergeant halted. They had reached the verge of the scrub and the front of the ranch-house faced them--barely twenty yards distant. They could discern a faint light glimmering around the lower edge of one of the windows.

"He is in!" whispered Slavin exultantly. "Blinds down though. 'Tis a quare custom av his. Come on thin, Yorkey, me bould second-in-command!

In a mighty few short minuts we shall know"--his jaw dropped--"fwhat we shall know! . . . Arrah thin, Docthor!"--he silenced a violent protest from that adventurous gentleman, who made as though to accompany them--"if ye wud help us in best fas.h.i.+on--shtay right here, an' mark fwhat comes off. If we shud happen tu get ut in th' neck . . . just yu'

beat ut back tu Lanky! Ye know fwhat tu du--thin. I'll lave me carbine here awhile."

He stepped clear of the brush and, revolver in hand, advanced softly upon the low, one-story, log-built dwelling. Yorke followed a few steps in his rear, with his carbine held in readiness at the "port-arms."

Reaching the door, the sergeant rapped upon it sharply. There was no response from within, but--the light vanished on the instant. Yorke stepped warily to the side and covered the door with his weapon. A few tense moments pa.s.sed, and then Slavin rapped again. Heavy footfalls now sounded, approaching the door from the inside, halted, and then, through the panels came Gully's hollow, booming ba.s.s: "Who's there?"

"Shlavin of th' Mounted Police, Gully. Opin up! we wud shpake wid ye."

"What do you want? What's your business at this hour of the night?"

"Fwhat do we want?"--the sergeant uttered mirthless chuckle--"fwhy 'tis yu' we want, Gully--for murdher! Come off th' perch, man, th' jig's up!

There's a bunch av us here--we've got yu're shack covered properly--wid carbines--north, east, south, an' west--ye can pull nothin' off. Come now! will ye pitch up an' act reasonable? 'Tis no manner av use ye shtartin' in tu buck th' Force. Juty's juty--ye know that."

"Have you got a warrant, Sergeant?"

"Eyah!" came Slavin's sinister growl. "We've bin fis.h.i.+n', Gully, up in th' big pool beyant. _Well_ ye must know that pool. Fwhat we caught there is our warrant. Opin up now, will ye? else we bust yu're dhure in!"

"Slavin--Sergeant! You and Yorke whom I've known all this time--good fellows"--the deep, imploring tones faltered slightly--"do not push me to it, man! You and your men go away and leave me in peace this night.

Christ knows! I don't want to do it but--if you persist in forcing an entrance in here without a warrant--why! I'll pull on your crowd till there's not a man left."

"Gully!" the sergeant's voice shook with pa.s.sion at the other's threat, "ye b.l.o.o.d.y murdherin' dog! Ye dhirty back-av-th'-head gun-artist!

Thryin' for tu come th' 'good-feller' over us av th' Mounted! There's on'y wan answer tu that, an' ye know ut. Now, will ye opin up this dhure, or I'll bust her down!"