CHAPTER VI INFORMATION WANTED

Two-Spot rested on the broom. "Wonder what happened to Nelson?" he queried. "Ain't seen since you went on th' prod yesterday."

Dave held up the glass he was polishing and looked at it. "What you mean, on th' prod?"

"When you chased me, at noon."

Dave picked up another glass, breathed on it and rubbed it vigorously. "He stuck his head in th' door an' said he was goin' to Juniper. Ain't he got back yet?"

"Don't know," grunted Two-Spot, going to work again.

"Ain't his hoss back?"

"Don't know." He listened. "Mebby this is him, now, comin' up th' trail." He looked out and shook his head. "Nope, it's only that d—d pill-roller from the flats. What's he comin' here for? He's got more liquor in his shack than we've got. I don't like no man that swizzles it secret. As I was sayin', it ain't every—why, hello, Doc! What brings you up here so early in th' mornin'?"

"My horse," grunted the Doc, passing him without a glance. "Hello, Dave! How are things?"

"Smoother'n h—l, as th' old lady said when she slipped on th' ice. What'll yours be?"

[60]

"Cigar apiece," said the Doc; "for you an' me," he amended.

Two-Spot turned back and resumed his sweeping.

"Dave, I was kidnapped last night," said the Doc, bluntly. Waiting for Dave to get his expression part way back to normal, he told the story. Dave's expression was under control again and bespoke surprise and sympathy, gradually assuming a stern, uncompromising aspect at the thought of such a grave breach of law and order. Two-Spot, after the first shock, did not dare to look around, for his grin was unholy and altogether too sincere for his health, should the victim of the unheard of atrocity see it. Swish! Swish! went the broom; he! he! went his throat, low and in time with the sweeping. Doc finished and hammered the bar with his fist. "It's a d—d outrage!" he declared, with heat.

Dave nodded emphatically. "It shore is! Do you know who did it?"

"No; if I did I'd be on his trail."

"See anythin' that might identify th' coyote?"

"Perhaps; I'll know more about it before the day is over," answered the Doc. "Big Tom has some of his men out now looking for tracks on the Double X. Those fellows don't like me very much."

"Blast their eyes!" commented Two-Spot, sweeping with renewed vigor.

Doc glanced at him, frowned, and went on. "Some things lead me to think one way; other things, other ways. It's complicated by Squint's disappearance."

Two-Spot assimulated the second shock with avidity.[61] He was beginning to be glad that he was alive, and his brain was putting two and two together at top speed. His ears fairly ached for more, and he waited for the third. When there were two, there should always be a third, he hopefully assured himself.

Dave's face showed real surprise again and then marched to orders and revealed his sympathy and disapprobation. "Why, there won't be nobody safe!" he exclaimed. "Do you mean he's missin'?"

"He is. Have you seen him since the night they were all here?"

"No; I ain't."

"Sorrers an' calamities never come singly," said Two-Spot, energetically digging a match stick out of a crack.

"Mebby it was Squint," suggested Dave, "as captured you."

"Well, the evidence points that way, but it isn't reasonable," replied the Doc, going to a chair and sitting down. "Squint wasn't the sort of a man who would go out of his way to do anyone a favor, especially if it was for someone he did not like; and most especially if it involved a large element of risk. But this man had on Squint's slicker, rode Squint's horse and saddle, and even had Squint's gloves and gun."

"He must 'a' et Squint," suggested Two-Spot, spitting violently at the thought.

"Shut up, you!" said Dave, sternly. "But, Doc, he was shore petrified when he left here; an' what he had in his person would stay with him for a long time. He allus was economical in his drunks: he made 'em[62] last quite a spell. Now, when a man's full of liquor he'll likely do anythin'—no tellin' what."

"This man was not drunk," asserted the Doc in his best professional manner, "and he had not been drunk for over a week. His hand was as steady as mine, and he did not make a single false move. I'm sure it was not Squint; Big Tom cannot make up his mind; Wolf Forbes swears it was, but Wolf was no friend of his, as we all know. Some of the boys suggested the Double X, knowing the strong dislike some of that litter has for me. Three of the boys are over there now lookin' for tracks."

"What good will that do 'em?" demanded Dave. "A man has a right to make tracks on his own ranch, an' they're allus ridin' around over it. But, then, if they found tracks leadin' from th' Double X to yore place, or from th' Juniper trail to th' Double X, why, then you'd have somethin'."

"There are none of the first category," replied the Doc, "and there will be none of the second: I told you that this man rode Squint's horse, and any tracks on the Juniper trail could have been made while we rode over it together. We can't find where he got onto the horse, or where he got off of it; but it must have been in the river somewhere. He was a fiend for riding on rock—he knew this country like a book. We've tried trailing, but it got us nowhere. So, Dave, I rode up here to ask you a plain question: Who were in here last night between a quarter of nine and, say, a quarter after ten? You may save some innocent person from a lot of trouble."

[63]

"Well," said Dave, pursing his lips. "Th' poker gang was here. Two-Spot an' I was here. Jerry Poole came in to set his watch—that was just at nine-twenty. Nelson poked his head in th' door about ten minutes after Jerry, wriggled his fingers at me, cuss his impudence, an' disappeared. Where he went I don't know. I guess that's all."

Two-Spot gripped the broom convulsively and then slowly relaxed. The third shock had arrived. The problems of his sorely taxed brain were jammed by the sudden arrival of more. Never before had he heard Dave deliberately lie; and here the proprietor was lying coolly and perfectly, with trimmings to make it stick. In turn surprise, wonder, and satisfaction swept across his boiled countenance like driven clouds across the coppery sun. He gradually worked closer to the Doc and soon his stroke became longer and harder. When he began trying to sweep a tobacco stain out of the flooring the Doc suddenly leaped from his chair.

"What—the h—l do—you think—you're doing?" he coughed.

"Huh?" said Two-Spot, looking up.

"What do you mean, sweeping like that, over here?"

"I was only sweepin' where th' dirt was," answered Two-Spot.

The Doc regarded him keenly. "Oh, is that it? Well, hunt for it somewhere else, or I'll kick you through the window!"

Two-Spot flared up. "You got my permission——"

"Shut up!" snapped Dave. "Now, Doc, as I was[64] sayin'—what'n h—l was I sayin'? Well, anyhow, I said it," he asserted, belligerently. "What you aimin' to do now?"

"Dance on th' quicksands, I hope," grunted Two-Spot, savagely. Then he listened, and said: "Here comes Nelson on that fine little hoss." Under his breath he muttered, "I bet he'll be surprised to find out he was in here at nine-thirty, last night." He straightened up. "Huh! Mebby he won't. Mebby he fixed it with Dave. Well, if he's wise, he'll tip me off next time—I might tell th' truth, an' make a lot of trouble, if I didn't know."

Johnny walked in. "Hello, Ol' Timer!" he said, jabbing Two-Spot in the ribs.

Two-Spot grasped the broom handle firmly. "Hello, yoreself! An' you lookout who yo're punchin'," he grinned. "Squint's dead," he said, mournfully.

"What?"

"Oh, well; he's missin', anyhow," amended Two-Spot.

"Missin' what?" asked Johnny.

"Missin' himself!"

"Then he's drunker than I thought," replied Johnny. "I never heard of nobody bein' so far gone in liquor that they missed themselves."

"Oh, you go to th' devil!" snorted Two-Spot, turning around so he could snicker in safety.

Johnny glanced casually at the Doc, walked up to the bar and bought a cigar, which he lit with scrupulous care.

"Meet th' Doc, Nelson," said Dave.

[65]

Johnny turned. "Glad to meet you, Doctor. I've heard of you, an' passed yore place."

"Saw you," replied the Doc, "and I coveted that black mare."

"Nice little cayuse," admitted Johnny.

"The Doc was kidnapped," said Dave, watching closely.

"That so?" replied Johnny, politely. "An' how old was you, Doctor?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why, when you was kidnapped," Johnny explained.

"I was kidnapped last night," replied the Doc.

"You—last night?" demanded Johnny, incredulously. "Well, I'm d—d! What did they get?"

"They got me."

"I mean, what did they get that was valuable?" persisted Johnny.

Two-Spot turned away again and missed the floor twice.

"They stole th' Doc," explained Dave. "They was takin' him away just about th' time you looked in at me. They took him over to th' SV, to set Ol' Arnold's busted laig."

"What you talkin' about?" snorted Johnny, seating himself across from the Doc. "I never heard of a doctor bein' kidnapped to set a busted laig. What am I supposed to say? I'll bite, if it does cost me th' drinks."

"No, Nelson, that's the truth," earnestly asserted the Doc, and he told the story over again.

"You say he was on Squint's cayuse, wearin' Squint's slicker, an' usin' Squint's gun?" asked Johnny. "Then[66] where was Squint? A man don't just drop things like that without knowin' it. What was that Two-Spot was tryin' to tell me?"

The Doc explained the matter and finished by saying that he felt sure that it had not been the missing puncher who had visited him.

"I don't think so, neither," asserted Johnny. "He'd be a fool to go like that. No, sir, I'll bet it wasn't Squint—but, wait a minute! If he counted on leavin' th' country right after, why, he might a' done it, at that. If it wasn't Squint, then where was he?"

"Sleepin' off his liquor," said Dave. "Why, that's it! While he slept somebody took his outfit an' kidnapped th' Doc. H—l, it may all be a joke!"

"You wouldn't think so if you observed that man as I did," replied the Doc. "He was in deadly earnest. I could feel it."

"Well, there's two ways to start at it," said Johnny, ordering drinks all around, including Two-Spot. "He had a grudge ag'in' you, an' he was extra friendly to th' SV. Run back in yore mem'ry for somebody that hates you enough to want to get square. If that don't work, then hunt for th' feller that likes th' SV. Anybody 'round here that's sweet on that Arnold gal, that you knows of?"

"No; not that we know of," answered the Doc. "Big Tom was the last one who called there; but he quit, quite some time ago."

"Got throwed so hard he still aches," gloated Two-Spot.

"Well, I can't help you," said Johnny. "I don't[67] know anythin' about th' people around here. An', bein' a stranger, an' likely to be suspected of any orphaned devilment, I'm shore glad I looked in here, last night. But I ain't worryin' about Squint," he deprecated. "He's an old hand at takin' care of hisself, if I'm any judge. He'll turn up with a headache, an' yell fit to bust for his saddle, an' gun."

"I hope so," said Dave. He turned to the Doc. "Did you fix up th' laig?"

"Certainly; it was a simple fracture," answered the Doc. He paused. "Cussed if I know what to think," he growled, arising. He had observed Johnny closely, saw that he was left-handed, found the voice not quite what he had hoped for, and Dave's statement cinched the matter. He nodded good-by and went out, but he looked at Johnny's saddle, where he found silver ornaments instead of brass, and plain stirrup guards instead of the fringed ones he had noticed the night before. Shaking his head he mounted and rode homeward.

Two-Spot placed the broom across a table and sat down. "Dave," he said, almost reverently, "what made you say that?"

"Say what?" demanded the proprietor, belligerently. "You hearin' things?"

"Mebby; but I ain't seein' 'em."

"What did I say that's ridin' you so hard?" demanded Dave.

"What you did about Nelson lookin' in last night."

"What was that?" asked Johnny, with pardonable curiosity.

"Why, Dave up an' tells th' Doc that you poked[68] yore head in at that there door at nine-thirty last night," explained Two-Spot.

"Well, suppose I did?" asked Johnny. "What about it?"

"Well, now," mourned Two-Spot, "if I ain't got th' cussedest mem'ry! It's got Texas fever; a tick must a' crawled up my ear. Of course you did; and didn't you say 'Two-Spot, when I sees you tomorrow I'll buy you a drink?'"

"I reckon I might 'a' said somethin' like that," laughed Johnny. "She's yourn, Ol' Timer—with a cigar to punish me for forgettin'."

Two-Spot enjoyed his drink and pulled contentedly on the cigar. Then he turned toward the rear door. "Time for me to give George a hand. Shall I take Pepper around out of th' sun?"

"Why, yes; an' much obliged," answered Johnny.

Dave pointed his finger and his whole arm at the broom lying across the table. "That yourn?" he demanded.

Two-Spot looked. "I told you that my mem'ry was bad," he chuckled. Putting the broom away where it belonged he went out and led Pepper around to the shed.

Johnny looked hard at Dave. "That was a good turn, Dave," he said. "What made you do it?"

Dave rumpled his hair. "Squint's missin', which means one customer less. Bein' a stranger down here I reckoned they'd pass th' buck to you. That meant they'd likely do it here—th' Doc come up to locate you, I figgered. Besides losin' a lot more customers[69] I'd have to clean up a slaughter-house. I just made up my mind I wouldn't do it. Anyhow, I'd like to shake hands with th' coyote that lugged th' Doc off to fix that laig. I would so."

"Don't blame you," said Johnny, holding out his hand. "We can shake on that, all right. I say a doctor is a doctor an' ought to go where he's needed."

Dave looked him full in the eyes, a quizzical smile playing around his mouth, and shook hands gravely, solemnly. It was almost a ceremony. "My sentiments, exactly," he responded. "Wonder if Squint was hurt?"

"I'd bet he wasn't," answered Johnny. "I'd even bet he went to a different part of th' country. Mebby he got caught in some devilment. Punchers are great for roamin'—just look where I am." He shook his head sadly and went out through the rear door for the hotel, leaving Dave with a grin on his face which threatened to disrupt it. He had not gone more than a few steps when he turned and went back. Poking his head in at the door, he said: "Dave, when I'm drinkin' in here, an' it can be done easy, just see that mine is some watery. I like th' delicate flavor it has that way; th' delicater, th' better."

Dave chuckled and nodded. "Yo're drinkin' it. If yo're satisfied, I am. I can't do it at th' bar, where th' bottle passes; but it'll be easy if yo're playin' cards."