New Mexico -- Fiction; Western stories; Women pioneers -- Fiction
“‘Oho! it ain’t, hey? Wal, I guess I can make it my business. Stewart,
there was some queer goings-on last night thet you know somethin’ about.
Danny Mains robbed—Stillwell’s money gone—your roan horse gone—thet
little hussy Bonita gone—an’ this Greaser near gone, too. Now, seein’
thet you was up late an’ prowlin’ round the station where this Greaser
was found, it ain’t onreasonable to think you might know how he got
plugged—is it?’
“Stewart laughed kind of cold, an’ he rolled a cigarette, all the time
eyin’ Pat, an’ then he said if he’d plugged the Greaser it ’d never hev
been sich a bunglin’ job.
“‘I can arrest you on suspicion, Stewart, but before I go thet far
I want some evidence. I want to round up Danny Mains an’ thet little
Greaser girl. I want to find out what’s become of your hoss. You’ve
never lent him since you hed him, an’ there ain’t enough raiders across
the border to steal him from you. It’s got a queer look—thet hoss bein’
gone.’
“‘You sure are a swell detective, Hawe, an’ I wish you a heap of luck,’
replied Stewart.
“Thet ‘peared to nettle Pat beyond bounds, an’ he stamped around an’
swore. Then he had an idea. It jest stuck out all over him, an’ he shook
his finger in Stewart’s face.
“‘You was drunk last night?’
“Stewart never batted an eye.
“‘You met some woman on Number Eight, didn’t you?’ shouted Hawe.
“‘I met a lady,’ replied Stewart, quiet an’ menacin’ like.
“‘You met Al Hammond’s sister, an’ you took her up to Kingsley’s. An’
cinch this, my cowboy cavalier, I’m goin’ up there an’ ask this grand
dame some questions, an’ if she’s as close-mouthed as you are I’ll
arrest her!’
“Gene Stewart turned white. I fer one expected to see him jump like
lightnin’, as he does when he’s riled sudden. But he was calm an’ he was
thinkin’ hard. Presently he said:
“‘Pat, thet’s a fool idee, an’ if you do the trick it’ll hurt you all
the rest of your life. There’s absolutely no reason to frighten Miss
Hammond. An’ tryin’ to arrest her would be such a damned outrage as
won’t be stood fer in El Cajon. If you’re sore on me send me to jail.
I’ll go. If you want to hurt Al Hammond, go an’ do it some man kind of
way. Don’t take your spite out on us by insultin’ a lady who has come
hyar to hev a little visit. We’re bad enough without bein’ low-down as
Greasers.’
“It was a long talk for Gene, an’ I was as surprised as the rest of the
fellers. Think of Gene Stewart talkin’ soft an’ sweet to thet red-eyed
coyote of a sheriff! An’ Pat, he looked so devilishly gleeful thet
if somethin’ about Gene hedn’t held me tight I’d hev got in the game
myself. It was plain to me an’ others who spoke of it afterwards thet
Pat Hawe hed forgotten the law an’ the officer in the man an’ his hate.
“‘I’m a-goin’, an’ I’m a-goin’ right now!’” he shouted. “An’ after thet
any one could hev heerd a clock tick a mile off. Stewart seemed kind
of chokin’, an’ he seemed to hev been bewildered by the idee of Hawe’s
confrontin’ you.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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