Chapter Twenty-One: CAPTURE

Hugo Miller came back from supper at the Cosmos and let himself in the front door of his office. In the darkness he could see a pencil of light shining under the door of the back room, and instinctively he drew his gun. Tiptoeing back through the room, he reached the back door, noiselessly turned the knob, and slammed the door open—on Johnny Hendry.

Johnny was stripped to the waist and was standing in front of the mirror, his face lathered with soap, a straightedge razor in his hand. He looked over his shoulder as the door crashed, and drawled, “You nearly made me cut my throat, Hugo. You’re sure spooky.”

Hugo holstered his gun and said, “Where’ve you been, Johnny?” Johnny started to tell him, but Hugo raised a hand. “I only asked because I’ve been wanting to see you for over a week now.”

Johnny stared at him. “News?”

“Plenty. I’ve matched that ore of Pick’s. I know who stole the location papers from Pick. I’ve been trying to get hold of you for a week.” And swiftly Hugo told him the story of Tip’s discovery, and of Westfall. He told him also about the rush which had started up in Bonanza canyon, and Johnny listened with a grim amazement.

Night before last was the night he and Turk and Hank had started the war between the Running W and the Bar 33. They had slept through the whole next day. Last night, the three of them had again raided Major Fitz’s herds, and again successfully. They had planted them in a canyon behind the Running W, where Fitz’s men had tracked them today. But Leach and his men had moved off up into the hills, and there was no one at the Running W for Fitz to fight. It was this lull that had allowed Johnny a breathing-space, and time to visit Hugo. He knew nothing of the rush to Bonanza canyon. And now Hugo’s story seemed almost like a fairy tale. But what was not a fairy tale was that Hugo knew the man who must have Pick’s stolen location papers in his possession.

“You know this whippoorwill, Westfall?” Johnny asked slowly, his face still half covered with lather.

“He’s down at the Cosmos House now.”

Without a word, Johnny started to wipe his face.

“Finish your shave,” Hugo told him. “He was just coming in when I left. When you’re done, we’ll go after him.”

Johnny’s hand was trembling so that he cut himself before he was finished, and all the while he listened to Hugo’s description of the Bonanza camp, and of Westfall’s tactics. And the more he listened, the more grim was the exultation that filled Johnny’s heart.

“And there’s another thing,” Hugo said quietly. “I don’t know whether I’m buttin’ in on your business or not, Johnny, when I tell you this.”

“What?”

“Nora is engaged to Tip Rogers. She’s taken his ring, so folks say.”

Johnny turned to the basin and doused his face. He could not trust himself to let Hugo see his expression. But when he stepped back from the basin and reached for a towel his face was cold, impassive. “That so? Well, Tip’ll make her a pretty good husband, I reckon,” he said carelessly. But, lest Hugo think this unfriendly, Johnny grinned a little. “Me, I wouldn’t. She didn’t think so, Hugo.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny Hendry.”

“So am I. But I know when I’m licked,” Johnny said grimly, and reached for his shirt. As he tested his gun, making sure it was loaded, Hugo outlined his plan to trap Westfall. Hugo would wait on his horse in the alley beside the Cosmos House. When Westfall came out and mounted, Hugo was to see which way he went, then ride out into the street and overtake him. Once he was past him, Hugo would slow down. The man following Hugo out of town then would be Westfall. With the glasses which Hugo would lend Johnny, he could keep a careful watch on the street from the south of town. The chances were that Westfall would ride south, and in that case his capture would be an easy thing to effect.

Johnny disappeared into the night to join Hank and Turk on the outskirts of town. Once with them, he told them tersely about Hugo’s discovery. He stationed himself on a little rise beyond the recorder’s office and trained his glasses on the hotel. The waiting was intolerable, but when, after twenty minutes, Johnny saw a big man come out of the Cosmos House and mount his horse and turn south, he felt an excitement crawling through his blood. When Hugo, seconds later, wheeled out of the alley and trotted down the street, overtaking the man, then slowed down to a walk, Johnny was sure.

Up the road, where the trail started to lift out of the canyon, Johnny remembered a gnarled and twisted old piñon whose limbs reached out over the road. He and Turk and Hank made for this point. While Turk and Hank took the horses and hid them, Johnny pulled himself up into the thick branches of the piñon and snaked out on its thickest lower limb until he was directly over the road.

When Hugo rode under the tree, Johnny called softly, “Ride on ahead, Hugo.”

A few moments later, the dark bulk of horse and rider loomed up in the road. The horse was walking, as if its rider were sunk in thought. As the rider approached, Johnny prepared himself for the leap. The horse walked under the limb.

Johnny slid off the limb and landed square on top of Westfall, and together they tumbled into the dust of the road. Even as they lit, Johnny’s fists were flailing, but it was unnecessary. Westfall was cold. The fall had done that.

Turk and Hank and Hugo appeared, and they tied Westfall’s hands behind him. It was minutes before Turk could catch up Westfall’s horse, and in that time, Westfall regained consciousness and sat up.

“Are you Bar 33 men?” he asked quietly.

“Not much,” Johnny said grimly, shortly, and turned to Hank. Already he could hear Turk returning with the horse.

“We’ll have this session out in the malpais,” Johnny said quietly. “You comin’, Hugo?”

“Try and keep me away.”

Soon Westfall was tied on his horse, whose reins were in Johnny’s hands, and they rode silently single file through the dark on the way to the camp in the malpais.