Bucky O'Connor: A Tale of the Unfenced BorderRaine, William MacLeod
General
Bucky O'Connor: A Tale of the Unfenced Border
Raine, William MacLeod
Fiction; Western stories
“You’re such a slap-up dude you’d ought to be a hotel clerk, cap.
You’re sure wasted out here. So we boys got together and held a little
election. Consequence is, we—fact is, we—”
Neil stuck, but Reilly came to his rescue.
“We elected York captain of this outfit.”
“To fill the vacancy created by my resignation. Poor York! You’re the
sacrifice, are you? On the whole, I think you fellows have made a wise
choice. York’s game, and he won’t squeal on you, which is more than I
could say of Reilly, or the play actor, or the gentlemen from
Chihuahua. But you want to watch out for a knife in the dark, York.
‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,’ you know.”
“We didn’t come here to listen to a speech, cap, but to notify you we
was dissatisfied, and wouldn’t have you run the outfit any longer,”
explained Neil.
“In that event, having heard the report of the committee, if there’s no
further new business, I declare this meeting adjourned _sine die_.
Kindly remove the perfume tubs, Captain Neil, at your earliest
convenience.”
The quartette retreated ignominiously. They had come prepared to gloat
over Leroy’s discomfiture, and he had mocked them with that insolent
ease of his that set their teeth in helpless rage.
But the deposed chief knew they had not struck their last blow.
Throughout the night he could hear the low-voiced murmur of their
plottings, and he knew that if the liquor held out long enough there
would be sudden death at Hidden Valley before twenty-four hours were
up. He looked carefully to his rifle and his revolvers, testing several
shells to make sure they had not been tampered with in his absence.
After he had made all necessary preparations, he drew the blinds of his
window and moved his easy-chair from its customary place beside the
fire. Also he was careful not to sit where any shadow would betray his
position. Then back he went to his Villon, a revolver lying on the
table within reach.
But the night passed without mishap, and with morning he ventured forth
to his meeting with the sheriff. He might have slipped out from the
back door of his cabin and gained the canyon, by circling unobserved,
up the draw and over the hogback, but he would not show by these
precautions any fear of the cutthroats with whom he had to deal. As was
his scrupulous custom, he shaved and took his morning bath before
appearing outdoors. In all Arizona no trimmer, more graceful figure of
jaunty recklessness could be seen than this one stepping lightly forth
to knock at the bunk-house door behind which he suspected were at least
two men determined on his death by treachery.
Neil came to the door in answer to his knock and within he could see
the villainous faces at bloodshot eyes of two of the others peering at
him.
“Good mo’ning, Captain Neil. I’m on my way to keep that appointment I
mentioned last night I’d ce’tainly be glad to have you go along.
Nothing like being on the spot to prevent double-crossing.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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