20 Western Novels You Should Read

Chapter 17

Chapter 13

BACK TO SONORADAWN broke and Wichita Billings still sat fully dressed waiting

for her father. It was the first time that she had ever worried

greatly over his absence, and she could not explain why she worried

now. She had always thought of her father as absolutely able to

take care of himself in any emergency. He was a masterful man,

utterly fearless, and yet not prone to take unnecessary

chances.

A dozen times she had been upon the point of going to the bunk

house and sending the entire outfit out to search for him, but each

time she had shrunk from the ridicule that she well knew would be

slyly heaped upon both her father and herself if she did so without

good warrant; but now with a new day come and no word from him, she

determined to swallow her pride and carry out her plan, however

foolish it might appear.

Persistent knocking on the bunk house door finally elicited a

profane request for information as to what was "eating" her.

"Dad's not back yet," she shouted.

"Oh, hell, is that you Miss? I didn't know it was you."

"Never mind. Rollout and get busy. We're goin' to find him if we

have to ride to Boston," she cried.

Luke Jensen, being the youngest man in the outfit, both in years

and point of service; was first from the bunk house, it being his

duty to bring the saddle horses in from pasture. At the barn, he

found that Wichita had already bridled the horse that was kept up

for the purpose of bringing the others in and was on the point of

swinging the heavy saddle to its back.

He greeted her cheerily, took the saddle from her, and completed

its adjustment.

"You worried about your Paw, Miss?" he asked as he drew the

latigo through the cinch ring.

"Something might have happened to him," she replied. "It wont

hurt to look for him."

"No, it wont do no hurt, though I reckon he kin take keer o'

hisself about as good as the next man. I wouldn't worry none,

Miss," he concluded, reassuringly, as he stepped into the stirrup

and swung his leg over the horse's rump.

Wichita stood by the corral gate watching Luke riding down into

the east pasture at an easy lope. She saw him disappear among the

willows that grow along the draw a mile from the corrals and two

thirds of the way across the pasture; and then "Smooth" Kreff, her

father's foreman. joined her.

"Mornin', Miss," he greeted her. He looked at her sharply.

"You-all been up all night, aint you?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Pshaw! Why didn't you rout us out? We'd a-gone lookin' fer him

any time."

"There wouldn't have been much use looking for him at

night."

"No, and there aint much use lookin' fer him now; but it would

a-made you-all feel easier," replied the man.

"Why isn't there any now?" she demanded.

"Because the Boss kin take keer of himself. He aint a-goin' to

thank us none, I'm figgerin'."

"No, if he's all right, he wont; but if he isn't all right we'll

be glad we did."

"Them hosses must a-gone plumb to the fer end of the pasture,"

remarked Kreff.

"They always do, if we're in a particular hurry to get them up,"

said Wichita.

The other men had come from the bunk house by now and were

standing around waiting.

"Thet dog-gone 'cavvy' must a-knowed we wanted 'em bad," said

one.

"Like as not they seed Luke comin' an' hid out in the willows,"

suggested another.

"They shore are an ornery bunch," admitted a third.

"I could of ridden down there backwards on a bicycle an' rounded

'em up before this," boasted a fourth.

"Here they come now," exclaimed Wichita, as several horses broke

from the willows and trotted toward the corrals.

In twos and threes they emerged from the dense foliage until

some forty or fifty horses were strung out on the trail to the

corrals, and then Luke Jensen rode into sight from out the

willows.

"What's thet critter he's leadin'?" demanded one of the men.

"It's saddled," volunteered another.

"It's Scar Foot," said Kreff.

After that there was silence. Some of the men glanced at

Wichita; but most of them stood looking away, embarrassed. Scar

Foot was Billings' favorite horse — the animal he had ridden out on

the previous day.

The men walked out of the corral into the pasture to head the

horses through the bars that had been let down to receive them. No

one said anything. Kreff walked forward toward Luke; and the latter

reined in and, leaning down, spoke to the foreman in a low voice.

Wichita approached them.

"Where did you find Scar Foot?" she asked. "Where is Dad?"

"Scar Foot was jest outside the east gate, Miss," explained

Jensen. "The other hosses was all up there by him, jest inside the

fence."

"Did you see anything of Dad?" she demanded again.

"We-all's goin' to ride right out an' look fer him, Miss," said

Kreff.

Inside the corral two men were roping, and the others were busy

saddling their horses as they were caught.

Wichita climbed to the top of the corral. "I'll ride Two Spot,"

she called to one of the ropers.

Finally all the horses they needed had been caught and the

others turned back into the pasture. One of the men who had been

among the first to saddle was saddling Two Spot for Wichita. Luke

Jensen, who had transferred his outfit to one of his own string,

kept as far from Wichita as he could; but as she was about to

mount, Kreff approached her, leading his own horse. "I wouldn't

come along, Miss, ef I was you," he advised. "We may have some hard

ridin'."

"When did I get so I couldn't ride with any of you?" she asked,

quietly.

"There may be some fightin'," he insisted, "an' I wouldn't want

you-all to. get hurted;"

The girl smiled, ever so slightly. "It's good of you, 'Smooth,'"

she said; "but I understand, I think." She swung into the saddle,

and Kreff said no more.

Luke Jensen leading, they rode at a run down through the

pasture, scattering the "cavvy," and into the dense willows,

emerging upon the opposite side, climbing the steep bank of the

draw, and away again at top speed toward the east gate. In, silence

they rode, with grim faces.

There, just beyond the fence; they found Billings — where Luke

Jensen had found him. Wichita knelt beside her father and felt of

his hands and face. She did not cry. Dry eyed she arose and for the

first time saw that one of the men who had brought up the rear had

led Scar Foot back with them; but even had she known when they

started she would not have been surprised, for almost from the

moment that she had seen Luke Jensen leading the horse back toward

the corrals and had seen him whisper to Kreff she had expected to

find just what she had found.

Tenderly the rough men lifted all that was mortal of Jeffrson

Billings across the saddle in which he had ridden to hls death, and

many were the muttered curses that would have been vented

vehemently and aloud had it not been for the presence of the girl,

for Billings had been shot in the back and — scalped.On walking

horses the cortege filed slowly toward the ranch house, the men

deferentially falling behind the led horse that bore the body of

the "Boss" directly in rear of the girl who could not cry.

"He never had a chanct," growled one of the men. "Plugged right

in the back between the shoulders!"

"God damned dirty Siwashes!" muttered another.

"I seen an Injun here yestiddy evenin'," said Luke.

"Why the Hell didn't you say so before?" demanded Kreff .

"I told Miss Chita," replied the young man; "but, Lor', it warnt

him did it."

"Wot makes you-all think it warnt?" asked Kreff.

"He's a friend of hern. He wouldn't have hurted her old

man."

"What Injun was it?"

"Thet Shoz-Dijiji fellow what saved me thet time I was hurted

an' lost. I know he wouldn't hev done it. They must hev been some

others around, too."

Kreff snorted. "Fer a bloke wot's supposed to hail from Texas

you-all shore are simple about Injuns. Thet Siwash is a Cheeracow

Apache an' a Cheeracow Apache'd kill his grandmother fer a lead

nickel."

"I don't believe thet Injun would. Why didn't he plug me when he

had the chancet?" demanded Jensen.

"Say!" exclaimed Kreff. "Thet there pinto stallion thet thet

there greaser brung up from Chihuahua fer King warnt with the

'cavvy' this mornin'. By gum! There's the answer. Thet there pony

belonged to Shoz-Dijiji. He was a-gettin' it when the Boss rid

up."

"They had words last time the Siwash was around here,"

yolunteered another.

"Sure! The Boss said he'd plug him if he ever seen him hangin'

around here again," recalled one of the men.

At the ranch house they laid Jefferson Billings on his bed and

covered him with a sheet, and then "Smooth" Kreff went to Wichita

and told her of his deductions and the premises upon which they

were based.

"I don't believe it," said the girl. "Shoz-Dijiji has always

been friendly to us. I ran across him by accident in the hills

yesterday, and he rode home with me because, he said, there were

other renegades around and it might not be safe for me to ride

alone. It must have been some other Indian who did it."

"But his cayuse is gone," insisted Kreff.

"He may have taken his pony;" admitted the girl. "I don't say

that he didn't do that. It was his; and he had a right to take it,

but I don't believe that he killed Dad."

"Your Paw didn't have no use fer Injuns," Kreff reminded her.

"He might have taken a shot at this Siwash,"

"No; his guns were both in their holsters, and his rifle was in

its boot. He never saw the man that shot him."

Kreff scratched his head. "I reckon thet's right," he admitted.

"It shore was a dirty trick. Thet's what makes me know it was a

Siwash."

The girl turned away sadly.

"Don't you worry none, Miss," said Kreff; "I'll look after

things fer you, jes' like your Paw was here."

"Thanks, 'Smooth,' "'replied Wichita. "You boys have been

wonderful."

After the man had left the room the girl sat staring fixedly at

the opposite wall. A calendar hung there and a colored print in a

cheap frame, but these she did not see. What she saw was the tall,

straight figure of a bronzed man, an almost n***d savage. He sat

upon his war pony and looked into her eyes. "Shoz-Dijiji does not

kill anyone that you love," he said to her.

The girl dropped her face into her hands, stifling a dry sob.

"Oh, Shoz-Dijiji, How could you ?" she cried.

Suddenly she sprang to her feet. Her lips were set in a

straight, hard line; her eyes flashed in anger.

"Oh, God!" she cried. "You gave me love; and I threw it away

upon an Indian, upon an enemy of my people; and now in your anger,

you have punished me. I was blind, but you have made me to see

again. Forgive me, God, and you will see that I have learned my

lesson well."

Stepping through the doorway onto the porch, Wichita seized a

short piece of iron pipe and struck a triangle of iron that hung

suspended from a roof joist. Three times she struck it, and in

answer to the signal the men came from bunk house and corrals until

all that had been within hearing of the summons were gathered

before her.

Dry eyed, she faced them; and upon her countenance was an

expression that none ever had seen there before. It awed them into

silence as they waited for her to speak. They were rough, uncouth

men, little able to put their inmost thoughts into words, and none

of them ever had looked upon an avenging angel; otherwise they

would have found a fitting description for the daughter of their

dead Boss as she faced them now.

"I have something to say to you," she commenced in a level

voice. "My father lies in here, murdered He was shot in the back.

He never had a chance. As far as we know no one saw him killed, but

I guess we all know who did it. There doesn't seem to be any chance

for a doubt — it was the Be-don-ko-he war chief, Shoz-Dijiji, Black

Bear.