The Sunset Trail

bloodshed was not slow in reaching Texas. The tale, when told throughout those cow-camps whose hun

r had slain Mr. Masterson's brother and were killed while their hands were red was permitted to have no weight. Cowboys are a volatile lot; they probe no question over-deep, surely none so commonplace as a question of homicide. Wherefore, in conne

eputable. He is dead now, and the ravens and coyotes have wrangled over his ignoble bones.

a notion not without merit; but his Mexican father objected, hence that household jar. The padre of their church came finally to the rescue and led the clashing couple to "Patricio" as a compromise. The infant, howling like a pagan, was baptised "Patricio Gato." Nex

at, ignorant, vicious, furtive, savage, was upon an intellectual level with the wolf, and of impulses as secret and as midnight. Also, he was dominated of an inborn pride to

idual, men who would call themselves secure must learn to estimate the folk about them. And they do. It was common knowledge, therefore, that the Tomcat was blood-hun

kelp, that Tomcat would,

and his low standing in that community-if so sparse a thing as a cow-camp may be thus described-of which he was a fameless unit, found sugge

a drinking acquaintance with those vanished ones. Indeed, he never so much as heard of their existence until he heard that they w

practice found relation, a thought took struggling shape in the narrow fastnesses of his wit. He would ride those two hundred northward miles to Dodge and destroy Mr. Mas

embered him as of middle size and a tolerant, thoughtful eye. The Tomcat, when he thus gazed on Mr. Masterson, was somewhat thickened of drink. Still, had Mr. Masterson been more than usually perilous, the fact

Doc Holiday, Shotgun Collins, Curly Bill and Soapy Smith. Poets would make verses about him as they had about the sainted Samuel Bass, dance-hall maidens would sing his glory in quavering quatrains. Thus dreamed the Tomcat on the banks of the Canadian as he lay by

ows with their unmarked offspring-this was the spring round-up. The five cows with their bawli

stler was holding in the bottom grass that bordered the Canadian. There were eight riders with this particular outfit. Wherefore the ban

looked sensibly feasible, too, as all things do when miles and weeks away. The Tomcat was wholly decided; he would ride to Dodge

vered what he sought. He pitched the loop of his rope over the head of

The one roped by the Tomcat, carrying a thirty-pound saddle and a hundred-and-fifty-pound man, could put one hundred even miles behind him between dark and dark. He had never

ry one to the pony freshly caught the horse-hustle

r his girths, "for the price of fifty steers if Jack Cook crosses up with you on h

owboy to whom he is told off. Each boy has his string, and any other boy would as soon think of rifling that youth's warbags as riding one of his ponies witho

m," returned the Tomcat as

Cook, while an excellent soul in the main, was prey to restless petulances. The horse-hustler did not believe that the Tomcat would intromit with the possession

k, picking his way towards the outfit's evening camp. Mr. Cook was surprised at the picture of the

of his Colt's-45. "What be you-all doin' on my Shylock?" he repeated. Then, as the Tomcat was not re

it wise to be heard. Realising with a sigh that mendacity would not clear the way, the Tomcat,

ny, Jack," pleaded the Tomcat.

of Mr. Masterson, Mr. Cook first stared and then went off i

nd on the Canadian for that job, needs somebody as good as Old Tom Harris. Better

d when he noted the mollified vein of Mr. C

ll be back in a month with that Bat Masters

der the circumstances you-all can have Shylock. I don't feel like refusin' the la

t cross in his veins; he knew, but couldn't cure the defect. He could hold his own with a Comanche, he could bully a Mexican to a standstill, but his heart became the heart of a hare whenever the cold, gray-eyed gaze of one

f. "I'd have filled him as full of lead as a bag of bullets! After I come back I'll nacherally take a cr

. He could drink more whisky than was the custom of Dodge; also, the Ballard attracted attention in a region where every fool used a Winchester and every wise man a Sharp's. But neither the Tomcat's capacity for s

s in no wise strange; for one thing his Shylock pony needed rest. Shylock had been put in Mr

ould saddle up and hunt the obnoxious Mr. Masterson. Upon meeting that officer the Tomcat would shoot him down. His missio

e "Man who downed Bat Masterson!" The girls of the hurdy-gurdies would set his fame to music! Indeed, the Tomcat foresaw a gorgeous picture when, returning to his native heath, he should wear laurel as that stout one who, from the f

son that was as disconcerting to the Tomcat as had been the flinty eye of Mr. Cook when the latter brought him to bay that evening in the arroya. Wherefore when they met, the Tomcat g

t behind his teeth; "I'll try a

der the pressure of events to come, the Tomcat's cunning had been so far promoted that he even thought of riding out of Dodge to the north after Mr. Masterson had been successfully obliterated. Then, when it was dark, he could swing to the south; not along his trail, but his direction would be thus lost t

the Tomcat, killing time, came into the Alhambra. There, among

d dollar vanished in pursuit of its predecessor. At that the Tomc

th the depleted Tomcat, "an' ev

d him with his uproar. It struck Mr. Kelly that the extravagance of the Tomcat's remark multiplied

lk he is kicked until justice craves no more. In this instance the Tomcat was excessively "buffaloed," and at the close of

raised himself superior to such reprimand, just as a Sioux warrior may lift himself above the power of tribal judges to "soldier-kill" him for misdemeanors, by his prowess in the field. Only humble offenders are "buffaloed." Those whose eminence forbids the ordeal may be sh

ly for himself. The Tomcat had been so deeply "buffaloed" that he did not move from his blankets for two days. Thereby the taking off of Mr. Masterson was deferred. Indeed, the cu

h injuries personal to the limping Tomcat himself. All men prefer a private to a public interest. It was but nature moving when the wronged Tomc

e evening and attempt, from the saddle, to pot Mr. Kelly with the Ballard. The Tomcat banged away with the Ballard all he knew, but the enterprise went astray in dou

iled itself above him, and the Tomcat was taken captive by twenty hands at once. He would have been lynched, only Mr. Masterson charged into the press. With the Tomcat held fast in one fist Mr. Ma

fficult to do than empanel a jury, convict and swing off the Tomcat. In this relation, however, there op

shots split the evening into splinters at the far end of the street. Two gentlemen were disagreeing; the dispute, audible to all in Dod

rtive one had slipped away in the hurly-burly, and since Shylock-who had been left saddled in the street-was also absent, the assumption obtained that the two had departed together and were already overhauling the dis

in the swallow-like instance of Shylock, would mean seven miles. Mr. Masterson cursed as he remembered this and considere

"if I have to swing and rattle wit

his dish. At the end of the first three miles he struck into a short cut to the left.

saddle so as to save his horse; the latter-big and rangy-uncoupled into that lo

Mr. Masterson as he swept along. "Once I'm in his fron

nd went bustling ahead, never leaving the paper-white streak of trail that seemed to fascinate it. At last, breath gone and wholly pumped, it had just instinctive sense enough to wabble a yard to one side and escape being run down by the galloping horse. A band of antelope brushed acros

aring, distant and muffled, like the beat of a million drums,

ways off as yet," he continued. "It must be a hummer to send its word so far." Then, pat

a drawn curtain. One by one it shut out like a screen the stars and

oes me," thought Mr. Masterson, w

he saddle and fastened the fore fetlocks of

arked Mr. Masterson, "but I'm goi

ums it improved to be a million flails on as many threshing-floors. Mr. Masterson clawed the saddleskirts tight as with a swish and a swirl the hailstorm was upon him. The round

ones Mr. Masterson might hear that unfortunate animal as, torn by mixed emotions of pain, amazement and indignation, it bucked about the scene in a manner that would have done infinite g

h subdued of spirit by what it had gone through. As gently as might

out. You needn't shout about it," he concluded, as the sorely battered horse gave a

rth the acrid earth-smells that sleep in the grass-roots on the plains. To mix with these, it brought a breath from the

y ford of the Medicine Lodge. He sighed with relief as his

luck!"

he unslung a pair of field-glasses, which he wore for the good of his office, and sent a backward glance a

n miles by that cut-off,"

Mr. Masterson did not care to eat a turkey raw and he dared not chance a smoke; the Tomcat would have read the sign for miles and crept aside. Mr. Masterson drew his belt tighter by a hole and thou

t's hunger," said Mr. Masterson.

away, where the trail ribboned over a swell. There, in the end, he foun

he most good. While concealed he still commanded the approach to the ford.

enough to surrender when he's told. And when I think of that little lady dead in Dodge I

lope. Shylock, staunch as whalebone though he was, had found the clip a killer. He was not covering ground as in

ought Shylock to a walk. The broken pony came stumbling down to the ford. Mr.

ifle!" said

of courage, he tossed the Ballard into his left hand and fired, point-blank, at Mr. Masterson's face where it showed above the bank. The bull

brought the Tomcat whirling from the saddle like a stricken wild duck. What with sheer weariness and an inadvertent yank at the Spanish bits as the Tomcat went overboard

omcat, muzzle to the fore, finger on the trigger. A dying man will sometimes pull a six-shoot

unging to regain his feet. There was no call for a second look; the experienced Mr. Masterson could tell

r. Masterson, thinking on the girl who died in Dodge, gave back a look as hateful. And this, in the midst of the

better shot than that!" said the Tomcat. "Well, you blank-bl

ddle nosed up to Mr. Masterson's horse in a friendly way. Five miles to the south, on the banks of the Medicine Lodge, a raven wheeled and stooped. Away to

he turned his horse's head again towards Dodge, "even if I'd ha