Valley of Wild Horses Part 33

"By Gawd, I--I couldn't hev told you," replied Blinky, just as hoa.r.s.ely. "An' it couldn't be worse."

"Blink--then we made a good haul?"

"Cowboy, n.o.body ever heerd of such a haul. We could moons.h.i.+ne wild hosses fer a hundred years an' never ketch as many."

"How--many?" queried Pan, sharply, his voice breaking clear.

"Reckon we don't agree on figgerin' thet. I say fifteen hundred haid.

Your dad, who's aboot crazy, reckons two thousand. An' the other fellars come in between."

"Fifteen hundred horses!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Pan intensely. "Heavens, but it's great!"

"Pan, I wish to Gawd we hadn't ketched any," declared Blinky, in hard fierce voice.

That brought Pan back to earth.

"What's their game?" he asked swiftly, indicating the watching whispering group.

"I had only a few words with Hardman. Your dad went out of his haid.

Reckon he'd have done fer Hardman with his bare hands, if Purcell hadn't knocked him down with the b.u.t.t of a gun."

Again there was a violent leap of Pan's blood. It jerked his whole frame.

"Blink, did that big brute?--" asked Pan hoa.r.s.ely, suddenly breaking off.

"He sh.o.r.e did. Your dad's got a nasty knock over the eye.... No, I hadn't any chance to talk to Hardman. But his game's as plain as that big nose of his."

"Well, what is it?" snapped Pan.

"Sh.o.r.e he'll grab our hosses, or most of them," returned Blinky.

"You mean straight horse stealing?"

"Sh.o.r.e, thet's what it'll be. But the h.e.l.l of it is, Hardman's outfit helped make the drive."

"No!"

"You bet they did. Thet's what galls me. Either they was layin' fer the day or just happened to ride up on us, an' figgered it out. Mebbe thet's where Mac New comes in."

"Blink, I don't believe he's double-crossed us," declared Pan stoutly.

"Wal, he's an outlaw."

"No difference. I just don't believe it. But we'll find out.... So you think Hardman will claim most of our horses or take them all?"

"I sh.o.r.e do."

"Blink, if he gets _one_ of our horses it'll be over my dead body. You fellows sure showed yellow clear through--to let them ride in here without a fight."

"h.e.l.lsfire!" cried Blinky, as if stung. "What you think? ... There wasn't a one of us thet had a single lead left fer our guns. Thet's where the rub comes in. We played their game. Wasted a lot of sh.e.l.ls on them d.a.m.n broomies! So how could we fight?"

"Ah-huh!" groaned Pan, appalled at the fatality of the whole incident.

"Pan, I reckon you'd better swaller the dose, bitter as it is, an'

bluff Hardman into leavin' us a share of the hosses."

"Say, man, are you drunk or loco?" flashed Pan scornfully.

With that he whirled on his heel and strode toward where Hardman, Purcell, and another man stood somewhat apart from the lounging riders.

Slowly Blinky followed in Pan's footsteps, and then Mac New left the group in the shade of the wall, and shuffled out into the sunlight.

His action was that of a forceful man, dangerous to encounter.

In the dozen rods or more that Pan traversed to get to Hardman he had reverted to the old wild spirit of the Cimarron. That cold dark wind which had at times swept his soul returned with his realization of the only recourse here. When he had walked the streets of Marco waiting for Matthews to prove his mettle or show his cowardice, he had gambled on the latter. He had an uncanny certainty that he had only to bluff the sheriff. Here was a different proposition. It would take bloodshed to halt this gang.

As Pan approached, Purcell swung around square with his hands low, a significant posture. Hardman evinced signs of extreme nervous tension.

The third man walked apart from them. All the others suddenly abandoned their lounging att.i.tude.

"Hardman, what's your game?" queried Pan bluntly, as he halted.

The words, the pause manifestly relieved Hardman, for he swallowed hard and braced himself.

"Game?" he parried gruffly. "There's no game about drivin' a million wild hosses through the dust. It was work."

"Don't try to twist words with me," replied Pan fiercely. "What's your game? Do you mean a straight out and out horse-thief deal? Or a share and share divvy on the strength of your riding in where you weren't asked?"

"Young man, I'm warnin' you not to call me a hoss thief," shouted Hardman, growing red under his beard.

"I'll call you one, d.a.m.n quick, if you don't tell your game."

"We made the drive, Smith," returned Hardman. "You'd never made it without us. An' that gives us the biggest share. Say two-thirds, I'll buy your third at ten dollars a head."

"Hardman, that's a rotten deal," burst out Pan. "Haven't you any sense? If you could make it, you'd be outlawed in this country. Men won't stand for such things. You may be strong in Marco but I tell you even there you can't go too far. We planned this trap. We worked like dogs. And we made the drive. You might account for more horses trapped, but no difference. You had no business here. We can _prove_ it."

"Wal, if I've got the hosses I don't care what _you_ say," retorted Hardman, finding bravado as the interview progressed.

It was no use to try to appeal to any sense of fairness in this man.

Pan saw that and his pa.s.sionate eloquence died in his throat. Coldly he eyed Hardman and then the greasy dust-caked face of Purcell. He could catch only the steely speculation in Purcell's evil eyes. He read there that, if the man had possessed the nerve, he would have drawn on him at the first.

Meanwhile Blinky had come up beside Pan and a moment later Mac New.

Neither had anything to say but their actions, especially Mac New's, were not to be misunderstood. The situation became intense. Hardman suddenly showed the strain.

Pan's demeanor, however, might have been deceiving, except to the keenest of men, long versed in such encounters.

"Jard Hardman, you're a low-down horse thief," said Pan deliberately.

The taunt, thrown in Hardman's face, added to the tension of the moment. He had lost the ruddy color under his beard. His eyes stood out. He recognized at last something beyond his power to change or stop.

"Smith, reckon you've cause for temper," he said, huskily. "I'll take half the hosses--an' buy your half."