A KNIFE WITH FOURTEEN NOTCHES
Hugh was feeding his horse next morning when a voice moved wheezily toward him as its owner passed through the stable into the corral.
“Old Grimes is dead, that good old man,
We ne’er shall see him more,”
Budd informed the world at large by way of announcing his arrival.
“When’s the funeral, Jim?” asked McClintock. “I’ll be there if it’s soon. Like to be right sure he’s buried. Don’t mind pilin’ a big flat rock on top o’ that single-breasted coat my own se’f.”
The fat man looked at him severely. “Young fella, I been hearin’ about you. Met up with Doc Rogers. Says you got all cut up. How about it?”
“Doc Rogers ought to know.”
“Was it serious?”
“I’d say it was serious. Cost me twenty-five dollars.”
“Rogers ain’t no two-bit man,” Budd explained with pride. “Piodie is sure one high tariff town. Nothing cheap about it.”
“Here’s where he’s gettin’ ready to stick me on my feed bill,” Hugh mentioned to his buckskin.
“Not on yore tintype. Yore money’s no good at the Pony Express Corral, Kid.”
“Much obliged to Budd & Byers, Props.”
“Sho, we’ll quit business when we can’t feed a friend’s bronc onct in a while. Say, was you much hurt, Kid? An’ how come it? Never knew you to go hellin’ around askin’ for trouble.”
“No, an’ you never will. I sure wasn’t askin’ for this.”
Byers had joined them. He nodded silently to Hugh.
“Who did it?” asked Budd.
“Wish you’d tell me that, Jim. He didn’t leave his name.”
“What’d he look like?”
“He felt like a ton of bricks when he landed on me. I don’ know how he looked. It was darker than the inside of Jonah’s whale.”
“Tell it to us,” urged Budd.
Hugh told the story of the attack on him.
“An’ you don’t know who the scalawag was?” asked the fat man when he had finished.
“I don’t know. I’ve got a guess—several of ’em.”
“For instance?”
“Is Sam Dutch living here?”
“Yep. He’s the handy man of the Dodsons—camp bouncer, killer, mine jumper, general all-round thug.”
“The Dodsons are the big moguls here, seems to me from what I hear.”
“They come clost to it—own the Standard Union and the Katie Brackett, have a controllin’ interest in both stamp mills, run the stage line an’ the Mammoth saloon.”
“And the big store, Dodson & Dodson. They own that, I reckon.”
“Yep, an’ the building it’s in. Fact is, they’ve got title to half the lots in town.”
“They’re a sweet pair.”
“Sure are. Run the politics, too. The sheriff’s their property. The job’s worth twenty thousand a year, an’ they elected him. Course he’s good an’ grateful. Why shouldn’t he be?”
“So Dutch carries the Dodson brand, does he?”
“He does their dirty work.”
“And his own, too.”
“Sure.”
“I’ve a notion Mr. Dutch has my autograph stamped on his face this glad mo’ning,” drawled Hugh.
“Sorry to hear that. It’ll mean trouble unless you leave.”
“That’s what he told me at Aurora,” Hugh answered quietly.
“I heard about that. You’ve got his number. So has yore brother. Makes it worse. You’ll get no even break from him. It’ll be like last night. A shot outa the dark. Only next time he won’t miss.”
“I’m not sure it was Dutch. I was one of the vigilance committee at Aurora. We ran a bunch of thugs from town. Might be any one of that gang. Or someone may have took me for Scot. He has enemies, of course.”
“An’ you’re the spittin’ image of him, Kid. That last is one good guess.”
“Whoever he was he left his card behind him.” Hugh stooped and drew from his boot leg a bowie knife with a horn handle. Upon the lower part of the horn had been filed fourteen little notches. “This was the sticker he flung at me. He was in a hurry and didn’t take it with him when he vamosed.”
Byers examined the knife and spoke for the first time.
“Dutch claims fourteen.”
“Well, I’m going to advertise it in the paper and give the owner a chance to reclaim his property,” McClintock said grimly.
“Won’t that be a call for a showdown?” Budd asked gravely.
“I aim to call for one. Then I’ll know Mr. Pig Sticker is sittin’ on the other side of the table from me an’ ain’t pluggin’ me in the back.”
“If he stands for a showdown.”
“If he stands for one. If he don’t, well, I’ll call his bluff that he’s chief of Piodie, anyhow.”
“You sure want to pack a good gun handy, then.”
Byers nodded agreement. The simple direct way always suited him.
The fat man glanced at his partner before he changed the subject. “We had a talk yestiddy after you left, Kid, me’n Dan. We’re locatin’ a bunch of claims on Bald Knob. Looks to us like a good chance. The stampeders are all headed over Antelope Hill way, but there ain’t no reason why there shouldn’t be ore acrost the valley, too. Anyhow, we’re gonna take a crack at it. A bird in the hand gathers no moss, as the old sayin’ ain’t. We had a notion to ask you to go in with us. Needs three to handle the thing, account of claim jumpers in case we make a strike. But I don’t reckon now you’d want to stay here permanent.”
“Why not?”
“This climate ain’t suitable for you. Too many gunmen who don’t like the colour of yore hair. I reckon there are seven or eight of them birds you helped run outa Aurora, let alone Dutch. Irish Tom is in our midst, as the old sayin’ is, and Vance and that mule-skinner Hopkins. It’s a cinch they don’t waste any time loving Kid McClintock.”
“If you’ve got a proposition that looks good to me, you can forget the quick-on-the-trigger gang. I’m not the only Aurora vigilante in town. Last night I met several. The gunmen won’t look for trouble on that account. We might start something again.”
“We’ll sure talk turkey if you feel that way. What say we ride up Bald Knob, an’ if you like the lay of the land, we’ll make our locations?”
“Suits me fine.”
Few people can live in a new and prosperous mining camp without catching the contagion of the speculator. The magic word, whether it be gold, silver, or oil, sets the blood afire with the microbe of unrest. Just beyond reach of the hand lies a fortune. The opportunity of a lifetime is knocking at the door. All the spirit of adventure in one leaps to the risk. Sedate caution seems a dull-spirited jade at such a time.
Hugh was no exception to the rule. As he had passed to and fro among the miners in the saloons and gaming halls last night the stories to which he had listened quickened his blood.
He was ready for a hazard of new fortunes as soon as he could shake the dice.