while mr. davenport was speaking i noticed that bob got up and settled down close by his father as he sat on the bunk, and placed his left arm around his neck. he meant to assure him that any revelations he would make would cause no difference with him. the man was his father, the only father he had ever known, and as such he intended to acknowledge him. i could see that mr. davenport was greatly encouraged by this.
“there is only one thing that i blame you for,” said lem. “you ought to have taken frank and me into your confidence at once.”
“i tell you we would have made short work with him,” added frank. “the idea that this coyote bill could come around here and bum around as he has! it’s scandalous!”
“i didn’t know that his name was coyote[80] bill until elam spoke it out,” returned mr. davenport. “where he got it, i don’t know.”
“then, elam, we’ll have to take you to task for that.”
“i didn’t know it until just as we were washing for supper,” explained elam, “an’ then carlos told me.”
“what have you to say to that, carlos?”
“i didn’t know it myself until bill proposed that i should steal that pocket-book before to-morrow night,” said i; and somehow i couldn’t help feeling uneasy by the determined way the two cowboys plied their questions. “he surprised me so suddenly that i spoke the first words that came into my mind. i knew then that he was going to make an attempt to steal it after we had gone to bed, and so i told elam that he would have to keep awake and stop it. that was the reason that elam got those two shots at him.”
“well, it is a mighty funny thing how a man of that reputation could come here and pass himself off for an honest miner!” said lem.
[81]
“if you had the cheek that man’s got you could do anything,” i continued. “he said i ought to be one of them. if he means by that, that i ought to join one of his bands and make my living by stealing cattle, he’s a long ways out of his reach.”
“you will find the boys all right, because i have confided in them,” said mr. davenport. “and now i have confided in you. don’t tell what i have told you, please, and as soon as i get to trinity i will ride down to austin and have this affair settled up. i did not suppose that man would trouble me away out here in texas.”
“father,” said bob, who had listened in speechless wonderment to all the trouble he had caused, “you ought to have left me in the mines. you have had lots of bother on account of me.”
“my dear boy, you have not been the least particle of bother,” said mr. davenport hastily. “now you know why it was that i didn’t want you to go fishing or hunting without me. i was afraid henderson might do you some damage.”
[82]
“did he want to kill me?”
“no, indeed! i was afraid he might abduct you. you haven’t seen him since you were seven years old, and if he could have abducted you then, and got you away where you could have signed the papers——”
“why, father, my signature as a minor wouldn’t have amounted to anything!” said bob.
“no; but he could have kept you until you were twenty-one, and then your signature would have amounted to something, i guess. but i will talk to you more about this in the morning. i have talked so much that i am fagged out. you are sure you don’t think any the less of me for what i have done?”
“indeed, i do not!” said bob, gently assisting the invalid back upon his bed. “if all the money you have should go to henderson, i should always think of you as i do now.”
“well, i should think a great deal less of myself,” replied mr. davenport emphatically. “bob, you will get it all. i could not rest easy in my grave if i knew you were to be[83] cheated out of it. you five boys will bear testimony to what i say? thank you! now, bob, cover me up from the night air. good-night!”
mr. davenport sank back on his pillows and soon breathed the sleep of exhaustion, while the rest of us, who couldn’t bear to think of lying down, went out upon the porch. of course i was glad to see that the cowboys had got over their suspicions of elam and me, and one would have thought from some expressions they used that such a thing had never been heard of, even in texas. we lighted our pipes and sat down to smoke on it, hoping that the thing would come clearer to us under the influence of the weed. the only thing the cowboys blamed mr. davenport for was that he did not expose coyote bill when he found out what his intentions were. and how had bill happened to get acquainted with henderson? that was one thing that they could not understand.
“this thing isn’t settled yet, by a long ways,” said frank, who, having emptied one[84] pipe, filled up for a fresh smoke. “just the minute anything happens to the old man, that fellow henderson will come on here and lay claim to that pocket-book. but bob will already have it safe in his good clothes. i want to see the man that says it is his.”
“so do i,” said lem. “he won’t say it a second time, i bet you!”
“father spoke about his keeping me until i was twenty-one, and then my signature would amount to something,” said bob, when the conversation lagged a little. “what would henderson do? i guess i’d know more then than i do now.”
“that would make no difference,” said frank. “he could keep you on bread and water until you would be glad to sign anything.”
“would he shut me up?” exclaimed bob, looking at me.
“he might put you into a lunatic asylum,” i answered.
“great scott! and all the time i would be as sane as he is!”
“that would make no difference, either,”[85] said frank. “there are plenty of men who run an insane asylum who would be glad to take a patient on such terms as he could offer. ten or fifteen thousand dollars at the end of six years would make him open his eyes. before you had been with him a week you would see all sorts of things.”
“well, this beats me!” gasped bob. “and i just as sane as anybody! such things aint right.”
“i know they are not right,” said lem. “there are plenty of things that happen in this world that you know nothing about, and money will do a heap of things.”
“but henderson has no ten thousand dollars to give such a man.”
“no, but he would soon get it. i tell you your father has done right in watching you.”
we all smoked two or three pipes of tobacco and then lem said he was getting sleepy, whereupon we all followed him into the ranch and went to bed. i don’t suppose that bob slumbered a wink that night, but i slept as soundly as though such men as coyote bill had not been within a hundred[86] miles of us; and yet he came back that same night and stole the rest of his bedding. a little further examination showed us that mr. davenport’s favorite riding horse was also missing, and then we knew that if we ever caught him again salt would not save him. the man had been guilty of stealing horses, and that was enough to hang him. when i had made these observations i went back to tell them to mr. davenport.
“of course the man is plucky,” said he, “and it is going to get him into serious trouble some day. now, i want you boys to come here and sign as witnesses to my signature. i take my solemn oath that i wrote this myself,” he added, placing his forefinger upon his sign manual, “and that everything in this will is just what i want it to be. now, boys, place your own signatures there. now, bob, you sign right there as witness to their signatures. there, i guess it is all right. if anything happens to me, get this pocket-book into your hands as soon as possible.”
there was one thing that occurred to me[87] right there, although i did not say anything about it. mr. davenport seemed to be thoroughly convinced that something was going to happen to him during his ride to trinity, and since he knew it, why didn’t he give his pocket-book up to someone else? that, it seemed to me, would be the surest way, for everybody who knew anything about the matter would know right where the will ought to be found in case anything “happened” to the invalid. i thought the matter over while i was getting ready for breakfast, and concluded that bob or somebody else would certainly see some misfortune on account of that pocket-book. it stuck close to me, and somehow i couldn’t get rid of it.
i pass over the next few days, during which nothing transpired that is worthy of notice. we did nothing but talk about coyote bill, and wondered where he had gone now and where we should be likely to meet him again, for there were none of us who didn’t expect to see him once more. he wasn’t the man to give up twenty thousand dollars because one attempt to secure it had failed. and then[88] what would he say to me? i had been guilty of treachery to him, and that was a fact.
on the morning of the fourth day, after we had packed our wagon with water and provisions, and got all ready for the start, the cattle from the lower counties made their appearance. i tell you i never saw so many head of stock before in my life. they covered the hills to the right and left as far as the eye could reach, and as to how deep they were i don’t know. if a man had all those cattle in good trim, he would have nothing to do but sit in his rocking-chair and sell them. i wondered how many of them would live to reach trinity. not one in ten, i was satisfied. they flocked into our water-holes, and in five minutes there wasn’t water enough left to wet your tongue with. the strongest fences that could have been made would not have delayed them a minute. presently the leader of the movement appeared in sight, and came up to the porch on which we were sitting. his name was chisholm, and he seemed the very personification of good nature. he looked at us boys[89] because he hadn’t seen us before, and greeted us in his hearty western fashion.
“how-dy!” said he. “are you all ready to start? i hope you’ve got a little mite of water laid by for us, for we haven’t had a drink in so long that we don’t know how it tastes.”
“oh, yes! we’ve got a drink for you,” said mr. davenport. “go into that building right there and you will find two barrels. fill up your keg with them.”
“by george! you are the right sort,” said mr. chisholm. “i was afraid some of our beeves would drink it all up before we got here and not give us any.”
“have you lost many cattle coming here?” asked mr. davenport.
“well, sir, the road is just lined with them,” answered mr. chisholm, getting off his horse and slipping his bridle over its head. “if you follow the dead beeves, you can go straight to my ranch. nobody ever heard of such weather as this before. it doesn’t look like rain in this part of the country.”
[90]
“no, indeed,” said mr. davenport. “it has been dry and hazy every day as long as i can remember. do you think we will get up to trinity with any beeves?”
“oh, we’ve got to. it is our only show.”
“do you think we shall have a fight up there?” asked bob.
“certain! what would you do if you were in their place? they think they are in the right, and we know we are, and the first one of our cattle that goes down to the water in trinity will be tumbled over. i am afraid that they will outnumber us. the rangers and the farmers and the police—i don’t know. but our cattle must have water and grass; we won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“do you know ’rastus johnson?” said mr. davenport suddenly.
“yes, i know him,” said mr. chisholm, looking around. “what of him?”
“he stole my favorite riding horse this week.”
“aha! that wasn’t all he did either,” said mr. chisholm, looking hard at the invalid.
“no, it wasn’t,” replied mr. davenport,[91] who took out the pocket book, told what was in it, and of the attempt that had been made to steal it a few nights before. when he mentioned the name of coyote bill mr. chisholm almost jumped from his chair, and so did the men who had been driving the wagon. they had obeyed orders and filled up their empty barrel, took a good drink themselves, and brought along a cupful for their leader. then they sat down and waited until mr. chisholm got ready to start, and listened to the story.
“coyote bill!” said mr. chisholm, in dismay. “i have wanted to find that fellow for more’n a year, and here i’ve run up against him two or three times during the last six months. it is a pity that boy didn’t shoot him. what were you thinking of?” he added, turning fiercely upon elam. “didn’t you know that it would put five thousand dollars in your pocket?”
“no, i never heared of that,” replied elam, somewhat startled to find out that he had had a pull on a man worth that sum of money.
[92]
“well, the stock-raisers down in our county would give that much for him any day. you had a chance to make yourself rich and then went and threw it away. dog-gone such a shot!”
“look here, friend,” said elam, straightening up in his chair and fastening his eyes upon mr. chisholm, “i didn’t shoot him because i couldn’t; that’s why. what would you ’a’ done if a man had jumped on you while you were flat in bed an’ seized the pistol, an’ turned it t’other way? i done my best.”
“well, maybe you did, but it sounds kinder funny to me. i wish he would give me such a shot as that. where do you think he is now?”
“i do not know,” answered mr. davenport. “he has gone off with that horse, and he certainly won’t stop until he gets among friends. i am willing to trust elam with my life. there are not many of you can shoot as he can.”
this went a long way toward cooling the hot temper of elam, although i noticed that[93] during the first part of the time we were in the drive he kept one eye fastened upon mr. chisholm the whole time. he didn’t like the imputation that had been cast upon his prowess. if the leader had been in elam’s place, and had coyote bill’s grasp on his throat and wrist, he might have been led to believe that the desperado had plenty of strength as well as pluck.
mr. chisholm and his men slept at the ranch that night, and bright and early the next morning we were on the move. we packed up in something of a hurry when we got fairly ready to go, and i speak of it here so that you may have no difficulty in understanding what happened afterward. not a single one of the herd was in sight. we followed along the ground they had passed over, and it was as bare as your hand. not a blade of grass was to be seen. if it had not been for the grain we had provided for our horses in the wagons, they would have fared badly, indeed, and then they didn’t like the grain any too well. it was only when they were about half starved that they would touch it.
[94]
i never knew what starving cattle were before, for although i had been a week at the ranch, i had never been out to see what was going on. the nearest herd was probably half a day’s journey distant. i stayed in the ranch with mr. davenport almost all the time. i had not seen the walking skeletons which were now shambling before us, but now i saw them all too plainly. every once in a little while we would come across some stricken animal who had laid down, and was waiting for death to come. and it was so all along our route. whichever way you turned your eyes you were sure to see some dead cattle.
“i’ll just tell you what’s a fact, mr. davenport,” said i, after counting thirteen dead animals, who could not go any further. “if we keep on losing cattle at this rate we’ll have to go at something else when we get up to trinity. there will be no need for the rangers and farmers to gather up there, for we shan’t have many animals to shoot.”
“it looks that way to me, i confess,” said the man, looking down at the horn of his saddle. “but you know what mr. chisholm[95] said. we must go on; it’s our only show.”
for three weeks we were in the drive (the journey could have been made in one week if the cattle had been in trim), seeing nothing new—nothing but dead animals and a prairie that looked as hard as the road. during all this time there was a little party of us that were kept in a state of suspense, and it was all the more painful to us because we could not say anything about it. mr. davenport was failing rapidly; anybody could see that, and now and then some cowboy looked pityingly at bob. and bob knew it all the while, and took pains to keep it from his father, and from us, too. he would joke and laugh with him all day, and when night came would roll over and cry himself to sleep. no son ever tried harder to make a parent’s last days happy.
“i tell you i’d like to see that clifford henderson about now,” said tom mason. “that boy has cried himself to sleep again. bob hasn’t got anything here anyway, and i’d like to see somebody come up and take away[96] his last cent from him. he shouldn’t get away with it.”
things went on in this way until the wooded shores of trinity were in plain sight, and that brown-whiskered farmer came out in company with a deputy sheriff to hold a consultation with mr. chisholm—“the boss,” he called him. you all know what that “consultation” amounted to. it was defiance on one side and threats to have our cattle shot on the other. that brown-whiskered man must have been crazy, if he thought that our small force of sixty men could turn those beeves back when they had got “a sniff of that water” that was flashing along on the other side of the willows, for they were already bearing down upon it with the irresistible power of an avalanche. all the cowboys in the state could not have turned them from their purpose. i looked at mr. davenport to see what he thought about it.
“well, boys, this begins to look like war,” said he, with an attempt at a smile. he was very pale, but he clutched his rifle with the hand of one who had made up his mind to die[97] right there. “two hundred against sixty is big odds, but we must face the music. our cattle must have water, or we shall lose more than half we’ve got left before morning. go and water your horses, and then come back and see if you can’t arouse some of these beeves. if you can only induce them to go ahead a mile further they will have water enough.”
“you will remain close by the wagon?” enquired bob.
“i will stay right here,” returned his father. “when you want me come right back to the wagon.”
the events of the next quarter of an hour proved one of two things: either that the farmers, when they saw the immense herd approaching their ambush, realized how utterly impossible it was to stop them, and that the attempt to do so would only result in a useless waste of life, or else that the sheriff, acting upon mr. chisholm’s advice, had prevailed upon them to fall back and give the famishing cattle a chance at the water. at any rate, to bob’s great relief, the shot for[98] which he was waiting and listening was not fired, and the cattle dashed through the willows and almost buried themselves in the stream. when bob and his friends reached the bank,—and they were obliged to ride at least a mile up the bayou before they could find a place to water their horses,—the stream being literally filled with the thirsty beeves,—they saw the farmers gathered in a body five hundred yards away, and mr. chisholm and some of the other wealthy cattle-owners were talking to them.
