Happy Hawkins

CHAPTER THREE

UNDER FIRE

As soon as I finished takin' care o' Starlight, I give Monody's mount a look-over. The old bald-face was whipcord an' steel; but he looked purty near ready to own up.

"Monody, confound you," I sez. "What the deuce did you hammer this old skin over the road like this for?"

"That's my pony," he growled.

"Since when?"

"Since I bought him, that's since when."

"When did you buy him?"

"It ain't none o' your business when I bought him. I bought him the mo'nin' you pulled out."

"What did you pay for him?"

"Are you goin' to talk about that ol' cayuse all night?" he snorts, gettin' wrought up.

"I'm goin' to talk about him until I find out about him," sez I, "an' you might as well come out of it an' tell what the' is to tell."

"I don't have to tell nothin' about him. He neveh belonged to you. Jim, he owed me some money on my wages so I just took the pony for the money. An' now I hope you're through pesterin' me."

"How much did he owe ya?" sez I.

"Now you gone about far enough with this!" yells Monody. "I don't know how much he owed me, an' I don't care. I reckon he owed me more'n the pony's worth, 'n if he didn't he can just pertend he raised my wages last month."

"Why didn't you let him raise your wages a little more, an' bring
along a bunch o' five-year-olds too?" sez I, grinning. I was mighty glad to see the old scamp, an' I knew he had drawed the worst end o' the bargain; but I wanted him to understand that it was embarrassin' to go again my wishes without my consent. He had the pot o' coffee just ready to set on the rock where we was goin' to eat, an' all of a sudden he straightened up an' shot a scowl into me. "Look here, Happy." sez he, "I don't care a sky blue flap doodle for the whole Jim Jimison outfit! I told you I was comin' along, an' I come. I tells you again that I'm goin' wherever you go; but if you don't shet up about that royally sequestered ol' ball faced camel, I'll dash this scaldin' hot coffee—right on the ground!"

Well, I fell on my knees an' begged him to spare me, an' I kept it up until he was gigglin' with laughter—he had a funny way o' laughin'—an' then we sat on the stone an'—well, the' never was a human mortal 'at was qualified to carry water for ol' Monody's cookin'.

"What's your news, Monody?" I sez, after I 'd satisfied myself that I couldn't swaller another crumb.

"You're headin' for the Diamond Dot, ain't ya?" sez he.

"This is a corner o' the Diamond Dot range," sez I, lollin' back an' puffin' slow an' comfortable at my pipe.

"The pony corral stands at the mouth of a little canon, don't it?"

"Yes," sez I.

"An' the cook house is to the right of it?"

"Yes," sez I.

"An' the ranch house is kind o' sprawly with—"

"Look here, Monody," sez I, interruptin', "this ain't no news. What are you gettin' at?"

"You got friends there, ain't ya?" sez he.

"I got one friend anyhow," sez I, "but as long as you've insisted on taggin' along after me, you'll see the place an' you'll see my friend; though I somehow doubt if you'll be invited in for a meal."

"Is your friend a lady?" sez Monody.

"Oh, no," sez I, sarcastic, "she 's a two-year-old heifer. I wouldn't think o' goin' this distance just to call on a lady."

"How old is she?" asked Monody.

"Now you look here, you old pest," sez I, "if you're just tryin' to get even with me about the bald-faced roan, why cut it; but if you've got anything to tell, why tell it, 'cause I'm gettin' sleepy. She'll be eight years old to-morrow."

Old Monody shook with silent laughter for a moment. "A lady!" sez he. Then he sobered an' sez, "Is it your child?"

I heaved a rock at him which he dodged, an' then I sez, "You wicked of beast you, do I look old enough to have an eight-year-old daughter?"

"Sometimes you do an' sometimes you don't. You're one o' these fellers 'at ain't got no age o' their own, but just age up accordin' to what's goin' on,"—an' ol' Monody stumbled on a bit o' truth when he said this, an' it's still true.

"Well, what are you gettin' at?" sez I.

"The Diamond Dot is goin' to be raided to-night," sez he.

I jumped to my feet. "Who by?" I sez.

"You're fifteen years older right now than you was two minutes ago," sez Monody. "I stumbled onto Bill Brophy's gang last night. Bill has seven o' the lowest grade wolves 'at ever wore man-hide—I—I used to know Bill down in the Territory, an' Bill he thought I was still on the grab. He put me on. I'm supposed to be at the pony corral at midnight to turn the ponies loose an' bottle up the house gang in their shack. Brophy's bad medicine; you'd better pass up your eight-year-old lady friend an' come on back to the Lion Head with ol' Monody."

I walked up an' down a time or two, thinkin' it over. "We can ride right into the ravine 'at leads to the pony corral from here," sez I. "It's a good average four hours' ride. Now I can do it in three on Starlight; the old bald-face couldn't do it at all to-night—"

"Look at him now," sez Monody. There he was eatin' grass as lively as a cricket. "Well, you follow as you can, only you'd better lay low unless I whistle the Lion Head signal. If I get time to break you gentle to the home gang, it'll be all right; but you ain't apt to be due for a cordial welcome, not when strangers to you are lookin' for hold-ups."

He had tossed the saddles an' bridles on the hosses by this time, an' we left our outfit lyin' on the rocks. We hit the saddles in the same tick an' settled into a swing. Big an' heavy as ol' Monody was, he was a light rider, an' the bald-face hung at my cinch for the best part of an hour an' then we slowly oozed away from him. The stars were all full power that night, an' a feller could see most as plain as if the'd been a moon.

It smelt good to be back at the old place again, an' my blood was racin' through my veins till I fair tingled. Finally I reached the canon an' began to ride careful. It was only about eleven; but I didn't want any o' Brophy's gang to take a pot shot at me. All of a sudden something moved on a little grassy shelf on the side of the cliff. Starlight shied off to the left an' my gun flew up over my head, ready to drop on whatever it happened to be. My eyes were drillin' into the gloom when a mite of a creature with her hands clasped rose up an' said, "Oh, Happy, Happy! is it really you? an' ridin' on the black hoss with the silver trimmed leather!"

"Barbie, child!" I cried, "what on earth you doin' out here this time o' night an' all by your lone?"

"I just couldn't sleep, Happy," she said, comin' to the edge o' the shelf an' sittin' down with her little bare feet swingin' over; "I got to wonderin' how it would feel just when the birthday was a-comin' on; so I sneaked out here, an' I was just beginnin' to feel it when you hove into sight. I been thinkin' o' you lots lately, Happy."

"You little minx, you," sez I, "I doubt if you've thought of me twice since I been away, while I've been thinkin' of you every minute. But come, jump down behind me an' we'll hurry on. I want you to go in an' wake Daddy up an' tell him I've got something mighty important to say to him, while I scurry over an' wake up the home gang."

"The home gang ain't here," sez Barbie. "The ponies vamoosed this afternoon—they nearly always do the days I turn Mr. H. Hawkins with them,—that's what I call the pinto. He's an awful scamp; but the best pony on the place."

"Then I reckon they'll bring 'em around the twist an' down this canon. Now you get down here an' sneak into the house while I stake out Starlight in the big cathedral—see how well I remember everything."

I set the child down, rode Starlight into a big open nook with a narrow mouth, an' then hustled into the house. Old Cast Steel was standin' in the dining room in his stockin'-feet with a gun in each hand an' a question in his eyes. "Get ready for a raid, Jabez," sez I. "Who from?" sez he.

"From the Brophy gang," sez I.

"How do you know?" sez he. "They are due to arrive here at midnight, Jabez," sez I. "I don't know why; but I think we'd better get ready for 'em now an' argue about it to-morrow."

"I know why," sez lie. "One of 'em stole one o' my ponies an' started to run off a bunch o' my own cows with it. I strung him up an' he said 'at Bill Brophy'd get even with me for it. That was two months ago, an' the' hasn't been a minute since 'at I was so bad prepared for 'em. How many's in the gang?"

"Bill an' seven others. I found out through the meanest lookin' mortal you ever set eyes on. He's a giant, nearly black, an' the ugliest critter you ever set eyes on; but he's white inside. He'll be along as soon as he can get here—don't shoot him."

"I ain't apt to shoot any help this night," grins Jabez.

"If it wasn't for the little girl, Happy, I'd be right satisfied to have it out with Bill; but I hate to think of what may happen to her. How'll we fix for 'em?"

"Get in the dug-out cellar," sez I, for I'd been plannin' it all along.

"I reckon they'll burn the house down," sez Jabez; "but I'd rather they destroyed the whole blame outfit than to have anything happen to the little lass."

"Where's Melisse?" sez I. "She left," sez Jabez; an' I hadn't time to learn particulars.

By this time we had everything barricaded, an' gettin' Barbie we made a run for the dug-out. It was only two hundred yards; but we hadn't left the shadow of the house before a rifle sings out followed by two revolver shots. The' was a big pile o' winter wood in the L of the ranch house, an' without sayin' a word I swung Jabez with little Barbie in his arms back of the wood pile.

We didn't shoot much, although the gang kept pepperin' at the wood pile purty frequent from behind the cook house. "They'll fire the house purty soon," mutters Jabez, after we'd beat'em off on their second rush. "We'll have to try for the dug-out sooner or later."

Just at this minute the six notes o' the Lion Head signal floated in. "There's ol' Monody," sez I. "I wish Barbie was safe an' we'd show'em a merry time of it." I answered the call an' the' was silence for a long time. Presently we heard a rattlin' volley, an' the cook rolled around the corner o' the house an' joined us.

"The next time they rush," sez Jabez, "we'll charge out after 'em an' try for the dug-out. They won't monkey much longer."

They didn't monkey at all. Two of 'em had broke into the house from in front, an' the next we knew a window had been flung open at our back an' we would a-got it right then, but Monody heard 'em, an' as soon as the window shutter flew back he emptied his gun inside. At the same time the remainin' six charged in a body, an' for the next few minutes we was some busy. But we beat'em off, an' as they scurried for shelter to load, we made for the dug-out; me in front, ol' Jabez in the center, an' Monody closin' up the rear.

Just before we reached it, a revolver cracked in the doorway o' the dug-out, I felt a sting in the left shoulder, spun around and fell, but jumped up just as Jabez changed directions for the cook shack. It was only a step from the dug-out an' we rushed in, slammed the door, dropped in the bar, an' turned to face a man with two guns on us. Monody dropped on him, an' I was about to shoot from the hip when of Jabez sez, "By George, Jim, I'd forgot all about you—we can sure fix'em now. These is friends, Jim." Jim was a savage lookin' brute an' I eyed him purty close. "This feller is cookin' while Flapjack is on his bender, Happy," sez Jabez.

The cook shack was built out o' pine logs at the bottom, an' fixed so the upper sides'd swing out like awnings in hot weather. We felt purty comfortable. The' was a square window at each end an' one on the side facin' the house; the stove was on the other side. We made little Barbie sit in the corner behind the stove. Jabez took the window facin' the house, me the one facin' the dug-out, an' the sub-cook facin' the corral. I could shoot cleaner'n Monody, so he stood by to do my loadin', an' we proceeded to waste ammunition. It's enough to make the oldest man the' is reckless, when you think of the weight o' lead good aimers can throw without spillin' any blood.

After a bit things grew quiet, an' then we saw a small freight-wagon backin' down to the door with a lot o' wood across the back of it. Jabez came over to my window an' we shot into an' under the wagon; but it still backed up. The' was a little grade down to the cook shack, an' after they got it started the' wasn't much to do but guide. They had fixed a stick o' wood pointin' straight back from the rear axle, an' when it hit the door the bar broke an' the door flew off its hinges an' clear across the room.

But gettin' the wagon away for their rush was a different matter, an' we all shot at one another purty regardless. Once I reached back my hand for a fresh gun an' failed to get any. I turned around, an' there was Monody holdin' the sub-cook's right wrist with his left hand an' grippin' at his throat with his right. The' was a horrid look on the sub-cook's face, an' just as I turned to interfere, Monody gave a wrench which tore out the cook's wind-pipe, gave him a sling which landed him under the table, an' handed me a fresh gun. I was some bothered about this; but that wa'n't no time to hold an investigation, so I begun shootin' at flashes again.

"How's your catridges holdin' out?" sez Jabez.

"Ain't many left," sez Monody.

"I'm about cleaned myself," sez Jabez. "Where's Jim?"

"I think he's about once through," sez I, an' we proceeded to shoot more economical.

Purty soon they quit firin' again an' then the freight wagon started up the hill. They had put their ropes on the tongue an' were draggin' it out with ponies. We knew what that meant an' took a brace.

The lull what followed was the hardest part o' the whole business. Ther' wasn't a blasted thing we could do, an' it seemed hours before the neat volley came from the corner o' the dug-out. We didn't reply to it, which was most uncommon lucky for us; 'cause first thing we knew, they came rompin' around each corner an' poured in on top of us. They was used to fightin' against odds, an' it irritated 'em consid'able to take so long at a job with the odds in their favor. Outside, the starlight give us a purty fair aim, while they couldn't do more than guess at us—so we beat 'em off once more.

"The's only three shots in this gun," sez Monody, cheerfully, as he handed my iron back to me.

"What's that?" sez Jabez.

"We're about out o' fuel, Jabez," sez I.

I heard him grit his teeth in the darkness. "Where is she, Happy?" sez he.

"She's still in her corner back of the stove with the shack door in front of her. They won't hurt her, Jabez—no matter what happens, an' the' 's a good fight in us yet. Ol' Monody here don't begin to fight till the ammunition has give out; so keep your mind easy for the next rush," sez I.

Next moment they surged down on us, shootin' as fast as they could fan. We didn't explode a catridge until they was bunched in the door an' then we emptied out. They cussed an' groaned consid'able; but they surged on into the cabin, just the same. The smoke was like a cloud inside, an' a newcomer couldn't see an inch; so I backed into my corner with my left arm danglin' at my side an' holdin' my gun by the barrel.

The shootin' stopped in a flash an' the silence hurt a feller's ears. The' was a sloppy, floppin' sound over under the table an' now an' again a low groan. "Fetch the lantern out o' the freight wagon, an' let's chalk up." said a deep, heavy voice. In about a minute a light ripped its way into darkness an' I never saw a worse sight. Jabez was lyin' face down with a hairy viper on top of him face up. The feller'd been pinked in the bridge o' the nose an' it was most horrid ghastly. Two others lay still with their bodies inside the shack an' their legs outside; while another was lyin' just at my feet. Some one had swatted him in the temple with a revolver butt; but the sight that just about made me homesick was Jim, the deputy cook.

Monody hadn't broken the windpipe, an' he wasn't dead yet. It was him 'at made the floppin' sound. Oh, it was sickening! Brophy was a fine lookin' man—I recognized him from his description right at once—an' he hadn't been even grazed. He looked around cool but quick, an' just about took it all in, in the snap of a finger. Then he loaded both his guns before us an' made the feller with the lantern do the same. After which he looked into Monody's eyes—looked into 'em until Monody's ugly black face turned ashy; but Brophy hadn't even a scowl, an' when he spoke, his deep voice was steady an' calm. "How did that happen, Monody?" sez he, pointin' to the sub-cook.

"I—I reckon one o' the boys mistook him in the dark," sez Monody.

"I reckon you lie," sez Brophy. "The' ain't no white man would be beast enough. It's one o' your own heathen tricks."

I was surprised at the way Brophy talked. I'd allus heard 'at he was a rip-snortin' screamer, an' here he was talkin' low an' level like, as if he was conversin' about the weather; but when I looked into Monody's face an' saw it gray an' quivery, I knew 'at Brophy wasn't no bluffer, whether he yelled or whether he whispered.

I moved about an inch 'cause my leg was strainin', an' three guns dropped on me. "Don't try nothin'," sez Brophy. I didn't—I stood mighty still.

The man under the table give a gaspy squawk, Brophy dropped on one knee to look at him, an' I could see him shudder as he looked at the torn throat. "My God!" he muttered, an' then he started to git up, his voice fairly snarlin' with rage. "Monody, you beast!" he yelled, snap-pin' back the hammer of his gun, "I'll—"

He never finished it. With a queer, guttural cry Monody took a step forward with his left foot an' kicked him under the chin, lifted him clear from the ground, an' rolled him over, a crumpled an' broken thing, on top o' the sub-cook The man with the lantern began to fan-shoot into Monody, an' I jumped for him an' hit him in the temple with the butt, o' my gun. He went down with a crash an' the lantern went out.

"Monody!" I called. "Monody, are you hurt?" The' wasn't no answer; the' wasn't a sound. I felt like the last man on earth. Then I thought of the girl. I waited a moment to quiet my voice, an' then I sez, "Are you all right, little Barbie?" Still the' wasn't no answer, an' I fairly yelled to her.

"Yes, I'm all right, Happy, but I want to get out. Are you all right?" Her voice was steady, but it sounded a long ways off.

"Yes, Honey Bird, I'm all right," I sez.

"And is my Daddy all right?" she asked.

My! but it was a world o' comfort to hear the child's voice again, an' some way I felt unreasonable tickled to think 'at she had asked about me first. "Your Daddy ain't here just now, Barbie," I sez. "You'd better just stay where you are until we make sure 'at they're all gone."

"Well, all right," she said in the same muffled voice; "but I'd like to get out."

I hunted through my pockets for a match, but I couldn't find one, an' what I wanted just then was light—Lord, how I did want a light!

And then I heard a tramplin' an' a poundin' as the herd swept down the ravine an' into the corral, an' next minute I heard George Hendricks give the yell he allus give when a job was done, an' I yelled back—yelled till my voice cracked; an' it was the biggest relief I ever had.