on that same evening buffalo bill and young mainwaring were sitting on the veranda of the saloon alone, and the young rancher took the opportunity to cross-question his friend about the death riders.
buffalo bill told him how he had met them, and of the danger in which he and his friends stood from them and also from the shawnees.
“the scoundrels!” exclaimed the rancher fiercely. “i have heard a great deal about the doings of these outlaws, and how they have even dared to defy the authority of the united states and fight american troops.
“i can’t think what has come to our government, that it does not make them either obey the law or wipe them out. if we only had some of them on our ranches down in texas for a few weeks we’d make them precious sorry for themselves, i can tell you!”
“i wish you had them there,” said cody, with a laugh.
“pardon me, gentlemen, but i don’t think you know very much about these people you are talking of.”
the two friends looked up hastily.
they had thought that they were alone on the veranda, but a man had stolen up to them as silently as a cat while they were talking, and he stood at the young rancher’s shoulder, less than a yard away.
he was a big, broad-chested man, with a coarse, bloated face, a swaggering figure, and a bristling red mustache.
buffalo bill recognized him at once.
he was simon ketchum, known to everybody as a professional gambler and suspected to be the spy and agent of the death riders in the settlement of danger divide.
“i think i ought to know something about the death riders,” said the border king, after he had looked at the man in silence for a few moments. “i am in their black books, as you probably know very well.”
“how should i know anything about it?” asked the intruder quickly. “the death riders? there are no such people. it is an old story that they tell around here to scare tenderfeet.”
“it’s hard to prove, isn’t it?” said the king of the scouts, giving the man a significant look. “dead men tell no tales.”
“you seem to be quite nervous about these imaginary death riders,” sneered ketchum. “i should not have thought that a man with buffalo bill’s great reputation feared anything.”
buffalo bill did not reply, for he did not care to assert his courage in words. but his companion faced the swaggering stranger and said hotly:
“cody and one of his friends managed to account for a gang of your rascally assassins between them. you had better send ten times the number next time if you want to make sure of your bloody work!
“but you had better be careful. you are suspected, and if we can only get some good evidence against you, you will find that there is some law and justice in the west, after all!”
the swaggerer’s red face grew as black as night with rage, and he seemed about to spring at the throat of his bold challenger, but cody stepped in between them and eyed him calmly and steadily.
ketchum tried to meet his gaze, but he could not do[121] so. he read the menace of death there, and his cheeks turned pale.
“get out of here!” said the border king. “we understand one another perfectly, i think. you can do your worst, and we will be ready to defend ourselves—and to strike back!”
frightened by these words, ketchum turned on his heel and left the veranda. he knew buffalo bill well by reputation, and thoroughly understood that he was not the kind of man to speak at random.
“you had better not meddle in this affair, old fellow,” said cody to mainwaring when they were alone again. “that man ketchum is a coarse brute, and i’ve been inclined to insult him publicly and make him fight me. but i don’t think it would be the wisest course. i have other plans for meeting his murderous schemes.”
“count on me to help you in any way i can,” said the brave young rancher, setting his lips in a stern line. “it is of no use for you to tell me to keep out of this business. i am in it, and i’m going to stay in it.
“let me tell you one thing: i love may doyle, and i mean to try to win her for my wife. it is true i have only just met her, but i fell in love at first sight. now, do you expect to persuade me to keep out of this trouble in order to save my own skin?”
“no, i don’t,” admitted the border king, smiling cheerfully at his friend. “i wish you luck. you couldn’t find a better girl than may doyle if you searched all through the west.
“but let me give you a word of advice about ketchum. he is a notorious bully, gambler, and duelist. he has killed several men in duels and has the reputation of being one of the best pistol shots in this section. if you meet him again don’t let him draw you into a quarrel.”
an ominous bending of the rancher’s dark brows was his only reply.
just then may and her father came out to call the two men in to eat the roughly cooked dinner, which was the best that this frontier hostelry had to offer, and mainwaring instantly forgot all about the bully in the pleasant society of the girl he loved.
but later in the evening the hot-headed young fellow met ketchum again.
may had gone to bed, after sitting out on the veranda with him for some time, and he was wandering about the saloon disconsolately, when he happened to stroll into the card room at the back of the bar. it was full of men, sitting around little tables and playing poker, écarté, and other games.
mainwaring sat down by the open window to smoke a cigar before going to bed, and presently, happening to turn around, he saw that ketchum was playing poker at a small table near him with another of the men staying at the saloon.
obeying the instinct of keen observation which had been bred in him by his life on the ranch, the young man began to watch the game with close attention.
ketchum did not seem to like this. he was still sore, perhaps, at the memory of the meeting earlier in the evening, for he shot angry glances at mainwaring now and then.
the other player was having a run of the very worst kind of luck. after winning a trifle, the cards went steadily against him. he lost once—twice—thrice—four times running.
he was just about to put down a fifth stake when mainwaring jumped up from his chair and stopped him.
“foul play!” he shouted. “throw up your hand,[123] sir! this game must not go on! you are being cheated!”
instantly an excited group of spectators came pressing around them.
ketchum rose to his feet, trembling with passion, and asked fiercely:
“whom do you accuse of foul play, you young whelp?”
“you—you card sharper and thief!” cried the young rancher.
tearing the cards from the bully’s hand, he dashed them in his face with such violence that the blood started from his cut cheek.
the two men sprang at one another’s throats, and in a moment they would have rolled down on the floor, perhaps not to rise again, but the other men standing around closed in and dragged them apart by main force.
such a dispute could have but one ending, even without the deadly insult in which it had culminated.
in those early days in the west dueling was common on very much smaller cause than this quarrel afforded. any one who had dared to dissent from the custom and refused to meet his enemy on the “field of honor” would have been publicly branded as the most cowardly of men.
“you will meet me to-morrow morning!” hissed the bully, choking back his rage with an effort.
“certainly—whenever and wherever you like,” replied the young rancher.
at this point buffalo bill, who had been smoking on the veranda and had heard the scuffle, entered the room. he took in the situation at a glance and went up to ketchum.
“i don’t like your face or your manner, mr. ketchum,” he said, in a hard, clear voice, which every man[124] in the room could hear. “it will give me great pleasure if you will meet me in the morning before you fulfill your engagement with my friend here.”
ketchum looked into the eyes of the border king, which were filled with a somber and dangerous light, and he quailed before them.
“i have no quarrel with you,” he muttered. “my quarrel is with your friend. he struck me in a most unwarranted manner.”
“oh, is that all? well, he’s not the only man who can do it.”
buffalo bill stepped lightly forward and struck the bully a smashing blow between the eyes, which sent him reeling to the floor.
“have you got a quarrel with me now?” he asked, as the man got up and wiped away the blood that was streaming from his nose.
“yes, curse you! i suppose i must fight you, but i insist on my right to fight this young whelp here first!”
“and so do i!” cried mainwaring. “cody, you mean well, but i won’t let you take up my quarrel in this way. i can fight my own battles, and i will. but i’ll be very much obliged to you if you will act as my second.”
“certainly i will,” said cody, seeing that it was hopeless to try to prevent the duel, now that the quarrel had gone so far. “and if you fall it will not be long before i avenge you. but, you hot-headed young ass, why couldn’t you leave him alone, as i wanted you to do?”
it was a clear, bright, beautiful morning when the two men went forth from the little frontier hotel to kill or be killed.
the sun was rising in cloudless glory over the green-clad prairie. all nature seemed peaceful and glad and bright around these two men who had murder in their breasts toward one another.
all the men who had witnessed the quarrel on the previous evening were present. one of them consented to act as a second for ketchum, who seemed to have no friends of his own.
as the insulted party, ketchum had not only the choice of weapons, but also the decision as to the manner in which the duel should be fought out. he chose the french “barrier” method, in spite of the protest of his second that it was altogether too bloodthirsty.
a rope was stretched between two small posts driven into the earth. each combatant was to stand at a dozen paces from the rope barrier on either side and to advance toward it to meet the other. one shot only was allowed, and it rested with the duelists to fire when they chose as soon as the signal was given by one of the seconds dropping his handkerchief.
thus the duel, while perfectly fair, was almost certain to end in the death of at least one of the combatants.
the man who fired first, before he got to the barrier, would be absolutely at the mercy of his opponent if he missed, for he would be obliged to walk up to the rope and be shot at a few inches’ distance—unless, of course, he chose to confess himself a coward by refusing the ordeal.
it was a thrilling moment when ketchum’s second dropped the handkerchief.
the toughest old fire eater present felt his heart beat quicker when the two men began to move slowly toward each other, step by step, gradually raising their weapons as they advanced, and eying each other like panthers.
crack!
there was a flash—a puff of smoke—the whistle of a bullet—a quick, short, indrawn breath from all the onlookers, breaking the tense silence like a hiss.
mainwaring had fired—and missed!
he advanced steadily until he touched the rope. flinging down his useless pistol, he folded his arms on his breast and stood facing his enemy, motionless as a rock. there was not a tremor on his lips.
“it’s all over now!” whispered one of the spectators, who was standing near buffalo bill. “ketchum can hit a silver dollar at ten paces, and no man could miss under these circumstances.”
the bully eyed the doomed lad with the grin of a demon, and then advanced toward him, step by step. it seemed an age before he reached the rope and held his pistol right against the breast of the young rancher.
“now, then, you young fool, take back that lie you told about me, or i’ll shoot you on the spot!” he said loudly enough for all the men standing around to hear.
“shoot!” replied mainwaring sternly. “i said you cheated, and i say so still!”
the spectators held their breath, for it now seemed that nothing could save the brave young fellow.
but ketchum looked around the circle before he pulled the trigger, and he caught the steely glance of the king of the scouts piercing him through and through.
that look said as plainly as any words could have done:
“shoot him, and i will shoot you within five minutes! spare him, and i will spare you.”
fear conquered even the mad passion of hatred that was raging in the breast of the bully.
“the young fool is mad! he doesn’t know what[127] he is saying!” he muttered, and he fired the pistol in the air and folded his arms sullenly.
“now, i am ready for you, if you wish, buffalo bill!” he said.
the border king walked up to him and replied, in a high, clear voice that all could hear:
“i will stand up to you and fight you, if you wish; but first i wish to offer you an apology for striking you last night. if you care to accept it our duel need not take place. it is for you to decide.”
the men standing around were amazed—and not least among them young mainwaring. buffalo bill apologize and try to avoid a duel! it seemed incredible, but his courage was so well known that he could afford to do what would have branded any other man as a coward.
it was the price he paid for mainwaring’s life, although the young man never knew it.
ketchum did not share the surprise of the rest. he understood perfectly.
“i accept your apology, sir,” he said, with a clumsy attempt at dignity. “as you suggest, the duel need not take place.”
the two men bowed to one another, but did not offer to shake hands.
the whole party then strolled home to breakfast at the little hotel.
buffalo bill and mainwaring walked together, arm in arm.
the young rancher tried to find out what had induced his friend to apologize to ketchum, but the border king dodged the subject.
“i wonder what made the fellow spare me when he had me at his mercy,” the young fellow said, as they walked onto the front veranda of the saloon.
“i wonder!” cody echoed, smiling inwardly.
“i suppose it must have been because there was some slight streak of decency in his nature, after all—though i confess it seems hard to believe,” said mainwaring.
“yes, it does seem hard to believe when you know the man,” cody remarked, smiling now openly, somewhat to the surprise of his friend.
as they sat down to breakfast with the doyles, may remarked brightly:
“you two were out early this morning, were you not?”
“yes; we took a little stroll for the benefit of our health,” the knight of the plains replied.
“i suppose you feel that it has done you good?”
“oh, yes! it has given us a good appetite.”
not a word was said about the duel, for cody had a suspicion that the girl returned the love which mainwaring confessed he felt for her. he did not wish to alarm her more than was absolutely necessary, and he felt that he had only played the first game in the rubber with the death riders.
the stake that hung upon that rubber, as he well knew, was nothing less than life or death; but he believed that he could play out the game successfully.
later in the day, on making inquiries, buffalo bill found that ketchum had taken his horse, sold all his belongings, and driven away from danger divide.
he evidently had not cared to stay in the place after the proceedings of the early morning, or perhaps he feared that the king of the scouts would still call him to account in a manner that would prove fatal for him.
everybody in the place was agreed that his departure was “a good riddance of bad rubbish,” and the only people who felt any regret at his vanishing were his creditors.
two days later, the damaged wagon having been repaired, mr. doyle and his party set out from the little settlement to resume their journey.
with much regret, buffalo bill and young mainwaring bade adieu to them, wondering whether, among the curious chances of life, they would ever see them again.
the young rancher had almost made up his mind that he would go to california later on, seek out the party, and renew his acquaintance with them.
he had not dared to speak to may of his love, after knowing her only for such a brief time, but it was none the less ardent.
buffalo bill, noticing how despondent he seemed after the wagon train had lumbered off and disappeared from view over the prairie, invited him to ride with him next day to fort mcpherson.
“we are going to have a big hunt,” the king of the scouts said. “the supply of food for the soldiers of the fort is running low, and we are going out to see if we can fall in with a herd of buffalo. there is a chance of some fine sport. i am to take a band of scouts with me, as well as some pawnee friendlies.”
jack mainwaring’s eyes shone with delight. he was a sportsman through and through, and he knew very well that buffalo bill could show him better hunting than any other man in the west.
“nothing would please me better than to come,” he said.
“and there is another thing that may be an inducement to you,” buffalo bill added slyly: “if mr. doyle has taken my advice in the matter of getting an escort of troopers we ought to strike fort mcpherson about the time he gets there.
“he has the start of us, but we shall travel faster on horseback than the wagon train. besides, the general at the fort is a hospitable fellow, and he will be sure to detain them as his guests for a day or two. visitors of the type of the doyles are not common at a lonely military post on the edge of the great plains, and when they do arrive they are not allowed to go in a hurry, if it can be helped.”
at this idea jack mainwaring was more delighted than ever. he might have a chance of seeing may again, and he was consumed with impatience to start on the journey to the fort.
but buffalo bill had some business to finish up in the settlement, and it was not until the following morning that they mounted their horses and rode away.
buffalo bill, being in a hurry to reach the fort, took a shorter route than that ordinarily followed by wagon trains, so that the two men did not come up with the doyle party, and when they reached the fort they found that it had not arrived there.