The Heart of Thunder Mountain

“And you brought him to Paradise Park for me?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Don’t be downhearted!” he said cheerfully. “A good name is more to be desired than great riches. Isn’t that so, Cousin Seth?”

The ranchman’s face flamed.

“If you’ve got anything to say to me, say it quick!” he jerked out.

“I have several things to say to you, one at a time,” replied Haig smoothly. “To begin with, these men told you the horse was mine, didn’t they?”

“No, they didn’t. They said you’d offered a thousand dollars for him.”

Haig laughed.

“All right, if that suits you better! They told you they had brought him here to deliver him to me for a thousand dollars, and you thought it would be a fine joke to buy him yourself. Is that it?”

Huntington did not respond to this, but watched Haig narrowly, a little puzzled by his manner.

“How much did he offer you?” Haig asked Larkin.

“Two thousand dollars–and then he said name our price.”

Haig whistled.

“Well, I’m damned if you haven’t got some sporting blood in you!” he said, smiling at Huntington. “How much was in your roll?”

Huntington’s first impulse was to tell Haig that it was none of his business. But he was deceived by Haig’s manner, having expected his enemy to fall upon him like a thunderbolt. His surprise was shared, indeed, by most of the men, who had expected gun-play on the jump. Only Marion, sitting still and watchful on her pony, was not misled. She felt that Haig was playing with Huntington, and biding his time.

Huntington’s vanity completed his self-delusion.

“Four thousand, two hundred dollars” he replied boastfully, glancing around at his neighbors.

“Whew!” uttered Haig, between pursed lips. Then to Larkin: “You were hard pressed, weren’t you? But never mind, boys, I’ll do better than I promised–and charge it up to Cousin Seth.”

Another laugh flickered around the crowd. It was evident that there was no great objection to seeing Huntington baited.

“My name’s Huntington!” he snorted. “What’s this damned cousin business, anyhow?”

Haig raised his eyebrows.

“Does it annoy you?” he asked, in a tone of exaggerated politeness.

Huntington merely glared. He was one of those self-made wits who enjoy their own jokes immensely but grumble at plucking barbed shafts out of their own skins. He began to wish for the thunderbolt.

“But it’s your own fault, you know,” Haig added.

“What in hell are you talking about?” Huntington growled.

“I’m talking about your last visit to my ranch.”

“My last–What do you mean, damn you!” the ranchman thundered, his right hand moving to his belt.

There was a hurried movement among those of the crowd who, absorbed in the dialogue, had half-consciously crept nearer. But Haig appeared to have noticed neither Huntington’s motion nor the backing away of the spectators.

“And wouldn’t it have been reckless extravagance to pay good money for Sunnysides when you might just have come and taken him out of my corrals?”

For a few seconds Huntington, as if he could scarce believe that he heard aright, was speechless with amazement and rage.

“Say it, damn you!” he said chokingly. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get so excited, or you may break a blood vessel, Cous–I beg your pardon, Mister Huntington.”

“Say it!” roared the ranchman.

Then Haig dropped his mask.

“I will say it,” he began in a voice that rang ominously. “I’ll say it so that even you cannot fail to understand me. I mean that I’m tired of your threats and persecutions. I mean that you have harassed me and my men at every opportunity. I mean that you drove that bunch of my cattle off the cliff last September. I mean that within twenty-four hours another fence has been cut, and that you know who did it. I mean that your attempt to buy my horse was only another of the contemptible and cowardly tricks you have played on me. I mean, Huntington, that you are a bully, a liar and a thief!”

Huntington’s hand had slipped to the butt of his revolver at the beginning of this intolerable speech; but he had waited, as if fascinated, as if unable to move under the torrent of denunciation. Then to the onlookers it appeared that the bold young man, who had not yet made the slightest motion toward his own weapon, would be slain in his tracks. But Haig was as much the quicker in action as he was the nimbler in wit.

The two revolvers cracked, it seemed, as one, but with very different results. Haig’s battered old hat, lifted as if by a sudden gust of wind, slid from his head, and fell to the ground with a bullet hole through it. But Huntington threw up his hands, pitched forward, and fell in a heap in the dusty road.

There was a single shrill, short-cut shriek as a woman near the door of the post-office slipped down in a faint; and then a chorus of quavering cries as other women clutched the arms of the men nearest them.

Marion swayed in her saddle, her head drooping on her breast. A young cowboy darted from the crowd, and grabbed her as she fell. He started to lift and carry her away, but, with a desperate effort, she recovered, and stood erect, trying to thrust him from her. He held her nevertheless, supporting her with an arm under one of hers.

Haig had quickly turned and faced the group of men at the left of the road.

“Is there anybody else here that wants to buy my horse?” he demanded coolly.

There was no response, no movement. He whirled, and confronted the silent row of men on the other side.

“Is there anybody else here who thinks he can drive me out of Paradise Park?”

Still no one replied; and Haig, with a shrug, thrust his revolver back in its holster.

“Thompson!” he called out.

“Here!” was the answer, in the same tone of readiness with which he had responded to Huntington. By keeping his mouth shut, and never taking sides in any of the occasional disagreements and disputes that enlivened the tedium of life in that community, Thompson had established a reputation for neutrality and trustworthiness, and was permitted to be everybody’s friend.

“Look after Huntington, please!” said Haig. “He’s not badly hit–you’ll find the bullet under the left shoulder blade. It’ll do him good.”

Thompson and some others lifted Huntington, and carried him into the store; and at that moment the stage, its approach unnoticed, rattled up, and stopped with shrieking brakes and creaking harness. There was a sudden outbreak of speech on all sides, as if the tension had been relaxed by the recurrence of a familiar and orderly event. In the confusion Haig turned toward Sunnysides and the three cow-punchers.

“Now, Larkin,” he began briskly, “we’ll finish this business, and then–”

He stopped short, and stared.