Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

18 village and start askin' questions?" Dead- wood fakored. gaping- at him. " Sure. Why not? He's at peace, isn't he?" Deadwood's larynx rose and fell in a swal- lo'.ving motion. "You iiiean we think he's at peace, Jeff. Now listen 1 It would be crazy " His stalwart young partner was not pre- pared to listen, however. He had resolved to visir ihe cneanipnient of Sijotted Elk, and no annount of argument on Deadwood's part cou'd budge him from that decision; and, after striving in vain to reason with him. Dead- wood at last shrugged his shoulders resignedly. ■' Well, it's a fool play any way you look ar it, Jeff." he mumbled. "But I suppose I'll have to trail along an' interpret for you." ■Jort' turned then to Idaho Ike. ■■"i'ou ride back to Clearwater and let the marshal know what's happened, will you, old- timer''" he requested. "All right. Jeff." the veteran trapper agreed sombrely. "But I don't like your idea any niore'n Deadwood does. You keep your hair tieil on when you get to Sj^otted Elk's lay-out." He separated from the two younger men, swinging round to canter off in a north- westerly direction. As for .Ictt' and Deadwood, they set out for the village of Spotted Elk, head-chief of the Shoshones—a village with which rhey had a previous acquaintance, for tliey had \isited it shortly after the signing of the peace treaty that had been made between Spotted Elk and the U.S. (Jovernmont. A two hours' journey brought them into view of that village, a cluster of buffalo-skin tepees nestling in a hollow amidst a range of I'.ills. Here, to Dcaduood's intense relief, the pair of tliem were received civilly enough, nnU ni the presence of an assemblage of braves, squaws and papooses they were soon paying their respects to Spotted Elk. Well past his prime, but still of upright carriage, the chieftain of the Shoshones greeted them in a solemn fashion before the entrance ot his lodge. He was a tall, com- manding personage, whose height was accen- tuated to gigantic proportions by a great headdress of eagle feathers that he wore. His bronzed face, seamed with age, possessed the iiiunobility characteristic of his race. His eyes, sloe-black, were unfathomable in their expression. The two frontiersmen having exchanged salutations with Spotted Elk, Deadwood glanced mquiringly at Jeff'. Familiar as he was with a good many of the Indian dialects, the latter had only a smattering of the Shoshone tongue. On the other hand. Dead- wood was fluent in that language. "Well, what now?" Deadwood muttered. "Ask Spotted Elk why he broke the peace treaty," Jeff instructed. His partner fidgeted apprehensively, but, steeling himself, translated into the Shoshone dialect the question Jeff had ordered him to put. The Redskin chieftain's eyes remained in- scrutable as he listened to that question, to which he gave a brief enough answer. "He says he didn't break the peace treaty, Jeff," Deadwood interpreted, when Spotted Elk had made his cur.sory reply. "Then ask him why his braves attacked a stage-coach and carried off a white man wanted by the law," Jeff said. Deadwood obeyed, and, Spotted Elk having responded to the inlerrogatiun in the same laconic tone that he liad used before, the elder of the two scouts again turneil to his handsome compatriot. "1 don't know whether he's tellin' the truth, Jeft', but he allows he don't know nothin' about any attack on a stage-coach. He says if we don't believe him we can search his village for Bragg." Jeff pursed his lips. "Ask him where his son Yellow Snake is." Deadwood complie<l, and Spotted Elk griuited a couple of sentences in leturn. "The old chief says Yellow Snake left the village with some other bi-aves this mornin', Jeff," Deadvvood amiounced then. "He says they told him they were goin' out on a lumtin' trip." "A hunting trip, eh?" Jeff reiterated dryly. January 6lh. 194». BOY'S CINEMA "They went out on a hunting trip all right— but not the kind of hunting trip Spotted Elk means." Deadwood fingered his chin. "What'll we do?" he queried. "What can we do? It's a cinch Bragg isn't here, or the old chief wotddn't offer to let lis search the village for him." With those words Jeff leaned forward and began to unfasten a fancy belt that was buckled around his comrade's ttuiic. "Hey. what's the idea?" Deadwood pro- tested. "What are you doin' wilh my belt?" "It was your belt," Jeff retorted, taking possession of that decorative article of apparel and presenting it to Spotted Elk in a courtly fashion. "I believe in leaving a friendly im- pression on an occasion like this. Now quit beefing about your belt and tell the chief we're sorry we bothered him." A little while later Deadwood and Jeff rode from the Indian encampment and directed their steeds northward with the intention of making for Clearwater, and they had cleared the hollow in which the Shoshone village was located when the first-named addressed him- self to the younger scout fervently. "That belt cost me a coupla bucks in Laramie three weeks ago," he said, "an' I ain't never seen its like afore. Kinda hated to part with it. But I reckon it sure is a relief to know that my scalp won't be a-danglin' from it when Spotted Elk buckles it around him." Thus spoke Deadwood. Lacking the gift of second sight, he was unaware that before many more hours had elapsed both he and Jeff' would have cause to remendjer Idaho Ike's injunction that they should "keep their hair tied on." THE LONE CABIN SHORTLY after the Laramie stage had left Clearwater, the marshal of the latter town had strolled out to the wagon camp on the edge of the settlement and had held a con- sultation with John Mason. During that consultation he had informed Mason of his decision to remove Bragg to Fort Laramie, and he had obtained from the leader of the immigrants a sworn affidavit to be used as evidence on the day Bragg was brought to trial. He had also asked to see Jeff Scott, but Jeff of course was nowhere to be foimd. Nor was any news of him forthcoming in the pas- sage of the next two hours, at the end of which period John Mason began to wonder whether T'he young frontiersman and his friend Dead- wood had elected to cut adrift from the column. After all, he mused, Jeff had not actually promised to guide the column ^to Oregon—and Deadwood Hawkins had made no secret of the fact that lie would rather be earning a liveli- hood as a trapper than travelling with a crowd of settlers. Was it possible that Deadwood had induced Jeff Scott to "pull out "? That question per- sisted in Mason's mind, and he finally con- cluded that the answer to it must be in the affirmative, reflecting at the same time that the two of them might have at least had the courtesy to hid him "good-bye." Deciding that Jeff and Deadwood had indeed deserted the colimin, John Mason took it upon himself to inquire in the town as to whether a capable and trustworthy wagon boss could be hired there; and it was while seeking information on this score that he was recom- mended to apply to Sam Morgan. When he .sought out Morgan and requested his assistance in the matter of securing a new wagon boss, John Ma.son little dreamed that he was playing into the hands of the chief representative of an organisation bent on destroying his column. And Morgan on his part betrayed no sign of t'he malevolent exidtation ho felt on learn- ing the reason for Mason's call. "Why, I'll be glad to assist you, iny friend," he told the leader of the iimnigrauts suavely. "I'm afiaid, however, there's nobody imme- diately available^nobody I'd care to guarantee for such a job, anyhow. You see, tlie next step in your journey is your hardest, and you'll need a mighty good man to see .you safely Every Tuesday through. Still, if you'll give me an hour or two, I think I can find a dependable wagon boss for you. The fellow I have in mind is out of town right now, but I expect him back some time this afternoon." Mason did not know it, hut there was some- one down at the wagon cairip who cotdd have .satisfactorily explained the absence of Jeff Scott and Deadwood Hawkins. The individual who could have enlightened him was little Jimmie Clark; but, loyal to Jeff's instructions, the boy had sung dumb in regard to the disappearance of the two frontiersmen. About the time that John Mason was seeking the aid of Sam Morgan, young Jimmie Clarit was exhibiting to the immigrant leader's daughter Margaret a bow and half a dozen arrows he had purchased in Clearwater; and after the girl had duly admired them the lad insisted on displaying his cunning as an archer. Maintaining *ihat it was lucky for the white race he had not been born a Redskin, he pro- ceeded to discharge the shafts at various targets—with no inconsiderable skill. Then, wearying of showing his prowe.ss as a marks- man, he suddenly suggested that he and Margaret should while away an hour or so in a gallop across the prairie. "Why. I hardly think that would he wise, Jimmie," Margaret objected. "We might run into Indians." "Aw, shucks!" the boy countered, adopting a superior air that was hardly consistent witlj his youth and Margaret's mature womanhood. "The only Injuns anywhere near here are Shoshones, an' they're peaceful. They signed a treaty with the Government a coupla months ago." _ . He looked at her knowingly. "Besides." he added, "we might meet up with Jeff Scott out on the prairie." "You mean you know where he and Dead- wood have gone?" the girl, asked, in a tone that was as eager as it was startled. "Maybe I do, an' maybe I don't," was the non-committal reply. "All I'm say in' is that we might meet up with Jeff." Margaret eyed him in silence for a moment. Then she laughed. "You're a little schemer," she chided. "I don't believe you know what's happened to Jeff' and Deadwood any more than I do. But I'll keep you company on your ride—if you really think it's safe." Jimmie vouching for it that there was nothing to fear, they left the wagon camp a little while later and headed in a southerly direction, the boy on his diminutive pinto and carrying hjs bow and arrows, Margaret mounted on a high-stepping bay. Jiinmie set the pace—a brisk pace that was kept up for more than an hour. By that time he and his fair companion were in a biuich of low hills whose intervening hollows were dotted with cliunps of live oak; and it was while riding through one of those coppices that th^- discerned a cabin tucked against the face of a small bluff'. A rude, tumbledown affair, it had clearly been luitenanted for many years, and at sight of it Jimmie drew rein. "Hey, Miss Margaret," he said, "you saw the way I handled this bow, an' maybe you thought it was easy. But I'll bet you coiddn't hit the door of that deserted ole cabin from where we are." "Maybe I coiddn't, Jimmie," Margaret observed. "But don't you think we ought to be turning back. We've come a long way, you know." "Aw, have a shot or two with this bow first," Jimmie persisted. "Come on. let's see if you've got a good eye. Miss Margaret." She allowed herself to be persuaded, and the two of them dismounted amid the trees, after which they tethered their ponies and walked to the very edge of the coppice, where Jimmie handed her the bow and an arrow. She sent the shaft on its way, and hit the cabin a yard to the left of its ricketj- front door. Then, one after another, she expended the rest of Jimmie's arrows—wilhout actually striking the door that was her target. "Not a howling success, am I. Jimmie?" she remarked rnefnlly. when she had discharged the la.st of the shafts. "You were gettin' better," the boy declared. "A little practice and you'd be okay. Come