“They give him lots of credit,” said Buck.
“An’ Haines has said a lot in favour of
Dan, explainin’ how the jail bustin’ took
place. Lee is sure provin’ himself a white
man. He’s gettin’ well of his wounds
and it’s said the Governor will pardon him.
You see, Haines went bad because the law done him
dirt a long time ago, and the Governor is takin’
that into account.”
“But they’d still want to kill Dan?”
“Half of the boys wouldn’t,” said
Buck. “The other half is all wrought up
over the killings that’s been happenin’
on the range in the last month. Dan is accused
of about an even half of ’em, an’ the friends
of dead men don’t waste no time listenin’
to arguments. They say Dan’s an outlawed
man an’ that they’re goin’ to treat
him like one.”
“Damn them!” groaned Cumberland.
“Don’t Morris’s confession make no
difference?”
“Morris was lynched before he had a chance to
swear to what he said in Dan’s favour.
Kilduff an’ Jordan an’ Rhinehart might
testify that Dan wasn’t never bought over by
Silent, but they know they’re done for themselves,
an’ they won’t try to help anybody else,
particular the man that put ’em in the hands
of the law. Kilduff has swore that Dan was
bribed by Silent, that he went after Silent not for
revenge, but to get some more money out of him, an’
that the fight in the shanty up at Bald-eagle Creek
was because Silent refused to give Dan any more money.”
“Then there ain’t no hope,” muttered
Cumberland. “But oh, lad, it breaks my
heart to think of Kate! Dan c’n only die
once, but every minute is a death to her!”
DEATH
Before noon of the next day Buck joined the crowd
which had been growing for hours around Tully’s
saloon. Men gave way before him, whispering.
He was a marked man—the friend of Whistling
Dan Barry. Cowpunchers who had known him all
his life now avoided his eyes, but caught him with
side glances. He smiled grimly to himself, reading
their minds. He was more determined than ever
to stand or fall with Whistling Dan that day.
There was not an officer of the law in sight.
If one were present it would be his manifest duty
to apprehend the outlaws as soon as they appeared,
and the plan was to allow them to fight out their quarrel
and perhaps kill each other.
Arguments began to rise among separate groups, where
the crimes attributed to Whistling Dan Barry were
numbered and talked over. It surprised Buck to
discover the number who believed the stories which
he and Haines had told. They made a strong faction,
though manifestly in the minority.
Hardly a man who did not, from time to time, nervously
fumble the butt of his six-gun. As three o’clock
drew on the talk grew less and less. It broke
out now and again in little uneasy bursts. Someone
would tell a joke. Half hysterical laughter would
greet it, and die suddenly, as it began. These
were all hard-faced men of the mountain-desert, warriors
of the frontier. What unnerved them was the strangeness
of the thing which was about to happen. The big
wooden clock on the side of the long barroom struck
once for half-past two. All talk ceased.
