BRINGING HOME THE CAPTIVE
Late in the afternoon, Bill Jordan and many of the cow-punchers stood near the corral of the Bar O, watching Walker break one of the green horses. Walker was having a more than ordinarily hard time with the animal, which evinced an extraordinary viciousness. No one saw the cavalcade until they were within the confines of the yard.
"Sufferin' Jehosaphat!" said Basset, "will yo'all give a look at what's here?"
In two seconds, Walker and the horse performed without any spectators, and the entire crowd made a rush for the trio. No one recognized Pedro at first, one reason being that he had further misbehaved himself in his use of lurid language, and he had been effectually gagged, and the effect of the red flannel underwear was somewhat startling.
Injun, too, presented a slightly ultra effect in Pedro's trousers which hung down and completely concealed his feet, and gave him the appearance of a boy with the legs of a very tall man; and the huge club that he brandished threateningly at the dejected looking Pedro added to the picturesqueness of the get-up. The entire party were worn out and travel-stained, and presented a most "shot-to-pieces" aspect. But notwithstanding his condition, Whitey was jubilant.
As they drew near the group of cow-men, Whitey shouted: "You told us to bring back something, and I guess we did!"
Bill Jordan drew nearer, eyeing the group intently and convulsed with laughter at their appearance.
"I reckon yo' shore did," said Bill, who was plainly puzzled, "but what is it?"
"I don't believe you need any introduction to the gentleman," said Whitey, "but if you do, I'll present you to him. He didn't want to come, but Injun and I persuaded him to accept an invitation to spend some time with us. Mr. Jordan and gentlemen of the Bar O, allow me to present Mr. Pedro! He would like to shake hands with you all, but circumstances prevent!"
And with this, Whitey removed the handkerchief that acted as a gag and obscured the lower part of the prisoner's face.
A howl went up from Bill and the ranch men that must have scared the cattle out on the range, and they crowded around the unhappy Pedro to assure themselves that it was really he. Bill Jordan could scarcely believe his eyes; he grabbed the pack-horse by the bridle and turned him around several times, and viewed the dejected Pedro from all angles; then he fixed his eyes on the outlaw and the latter quailed under the glance.
"I shore am plumb devastated with six kinds o' delight to meet yo', Mister! An' I don't doubt none thet th' gen'lemen here'll over-look th' onconventionality o' yo'r makin' yo'r début inta sassiety 'thout th' formality of havin' no pants on to speak of. 'Tain't usual—not in no drawin' rooms what I frequents, it ain't—but the' 's a 'Welcome' onto the mat o' this here dump fer yo', pants er no pants!"
"What kind of a galliwumpus er ring-tail giasticutus hev' we here?" said Walker, who had "finished" the broncho, and had come to join the group around the boys and Pedro. "Er is it jes' somethin' the cat brought in?"
"Give it another slant an' yo' won't need no interduction," said Bill, as he pushed Walker nearer to the unfortunate Pedro. Walker started as he looked keenly at the man's face.
"Well, I'll be tee-totally jim-swizzled!" shouted Walker. "Dog-gone ef it ain't our ol' frien' Pedro! Why, Pedro, ain't yo' 'shamed to be gallivantin' 'round all ondressed up, like yo' be? But, never mind, Ol' Top! We all is goin' to pervide yo' with a nice wooden over-coat thet'll cover up them red-flannel laigs o' yo'r'n so 't they don't flag the Overland Limited.
"Ain't it a shame we ain't got no camera—an' this here thing settin' on thet hoss in front of us! I reck'n Pedro's frien's 'd like a pitcher of 'im in this here get-up so's they c'd 'member how he looked jes' 'fore he kicked off!"
"I've got a camera," said Whitey, and running into the ranch-house, he returned with it in a moment.
At the sight of the camera, Walker set up a howl of delight. "Now, Mr. Photografter," he yelled to Whitey, "yo' git th' machine in kerflukus an' I'll pose this flamingo-legged buzzard inta divers an' sundry fascinatin' positions! Yo' jes' p'int that there box at 'im and I'll do the rest!"
"Hol' on!" said Charley Basset. "Thet there looks t'me like a perfec'ly good camera—ain't yo' takin' an awful chanct, Kid, a-p'intin' 'er at hunk o' dog-meat?"
"I guess the camera'll stand it, Charley," said Whitey, "though it has never had a severe test like this."
"Shore!" said Walker; "Take a chanct, Kid! When I gits through drapin' him 'round the scenery, I reckon he'll be some picture-squee!" Walker grabbed the bridle of the horse on which Pedro was perched and swung it around broadside to the camera. "Set up there, yo' owdacious varmint, an' look happy an' take yo'r medicine! Look happy, I tell yo'! 'F yo' don't look happy right pronto, I'll let Injun see 'f he kin bend thet there fence-post he's carryin' over yo'r bean!"
Injun moved up nearer and gripped the "fence-post" entirely ready to carry out his part of the program.
"Mebbe yo' better wait a minute, Injun," said Walker, "till we git the pitcher; 't wont do to sp'ile him altogether—yet!" said Walker significantly.
"All set?" asked Walker. "Ef so, shoot!"
Whitey pointed the camera at Pedro and got the proper focus. "Hol' thet pose, yo' spavined coyote!" yelled Walker, at Pedro. "Hol' it, I tell you!' 'F yo' move, an sp'ile this here negative, Injun is gonna bust yo' one! Look right at the box, yo' bashful an' blushin debbytanty! Look at th' box for mamma, an' see th' nice birdie come out!"
Whitey snapped the trigger, and Basset was much relieved to learn that the lens had not cracked. Under Walker's skilful and gentle posing, two or three more pictures were taken, and then Bill Jordan called a halt.
"I guess thet's 'bout 'nuff," he said. "The' ain't no use imposin' on a willin' an' good-natured pitcher-machine."
"All right," said Walker, "when does th' festivities start?" he asked of Jordan. "I claims th' honor of furnishin' th' rope!"
"Well," said Jordan, hesitatingly, "ef we all 'd run 'cross this here maverick's trail out in the open, I reckon the festivities 'd 'a' begun an' finished, right there. An' I certainly has regrets an' apologies 'bout denyin' yo' all th' privilege of takin' a active part in the obsequies touchin' on an' appertainin' to th' kickin' off o' this here polluted skunk. But this here community is committed to the statoots o' Law an' Order, in sech case made an' pervided, as The Good Book says; an' I reckon, as long as them boys went out an' hog-tied this here ulcer onto th' decency an' fair name o' the Sovereign State o' Montana, he'll hev' to be tried by a jury o' his peers—jes' like a respectable murderer would—tho' where they're going to git twelve peers o' this here low-down insec', is more'n I kin onderstand! I guess thet part of it's up to the Sher'ff."
"Try him!" shouted Walker, dashing his hat onto the ground, in amazement and rage; "try him! What in blazes does anybody want t' try him fer? Don't ever'body in sixteen states know 't he'd oughta bin hung ever sence he was two year old? Yo' an' yo'r statoots don't ondertake to try no mad dog, do yo'? Yo' don't go out an' collect no twelve peers to set on a jury 'fore yo're 'lowed to shoot the pizen head off'n him, do yo'? An' ef this bird ain't worse'n a hull kennel o' mad dogs an' a nest o' rattlers throwed in fer good measure, then I'm plumb locoed an' b'long into a padded cell up to the nut-foundry!"
"I admits all yo' says in regards to th' gen'leman's character—in fac', I may say yo' ain't done justice to him, not in no way, yo' ain't. But thet ain't the p'int—we got t' abide by th' law, no matter what he done, an' personal inclinations don't cut no figger. Ef 't 'd bin lef t' me, he'd 'a' bin 'requiescat in pieces,' a consider'ble spell back. But th' law's th' law, an' I got t' hand him over to th' a-thor'ties, jes' th' same's ef he was a white man. I'm plumb grieved, but I got t' do it! Why didn't yo' bust him over th' bean 'ith thet wand yo' got there, Injun?" asked Bill. "It 'd 'a' saved a lot o' palaverin' an' hard feelin's an' expense to th' caounty!"
"Him say bring 'im in!" said Injun, reproachfully, pointing to Whitey. "Me bust 'im now!" and Injun lifted the ponderous club and was prevented from braining Pedro, missing him by a narrow margin, as Bill Jordan deflected the blow.
"One strike!" said Walker. "Give th' kid a chanct—he's entitled to two more! Go on, Kid, knock him fer a three-bagger!"
"No more o' thet!" said Bill, with as much sternness as he could muster. "I'll take charge o' this dose o' small-pox an' put him on the ice till the Sher'ff gets here. Walker, go call up the Sher'ff's office, an' tell him t' come an' get this here prize-package. Seems t' me, now't I think of it, the's a reward comin' t' yo' two kids. 'F I remember right, the' was quite some consider'ble sum put onto his head. Seems like he was some valuable to the caounty."
This, indeed, turned out to be true, and within a short time, the sum of two thousand dollars was paid over to the representatives of the boys. Bill Jordan was selected by Injun as his guardian, and Bill accepted the responsibility gladly, but with some misgivings.
"What is yo' purposin' to buy with all this here kale, Mister Ping Pong Morgan?" asked Bill of the boy. "Would yo' ruther hev' a steam yacht er a coupla railroads?"
"Pink pajams!" said Injun, without any hesitation.
"A thousand dollars worth of 'em?" asked Bill.
"Sure!" said Injun.