Afterward he would exact the faith of the three according to fearful oaths. And when he had done that, he would lead them to their prey. Now that he thought over all the elements of this comedy, it seemed to Lovell the most delightful thing that he had ever conceived.
He did exactly as he had planned. Sitting on the stone, he lighted his cigarette, and remained there even when he heard the rattling of hoofs coming toward him.
Then a single rider came into view—a big man with square-set shoulders. That would be Bray, and Bray was the man he most wanted to see.
It was Bray. He charged straight at the solitary figure which sat so moveless upon the stone, and when he was close to Lovell he uttered a shout of surprise.
Two more riders were in view by this time, but that didn’t matter. Bray was not essentially a man of blood. He would not act until he knew why Lovell had dared to show himself. And he would keep the other two in hand. Rash and head-long as Joe Mantry was, Lovell knew that he dreaded death far less than he dreaded the strong nature of Bray.
So Lovell remained seated, carefully smoking his cigarette and blowing the smoke over his head into the moonlight, while Bray dismounted before him and covered him with a gun.
“Well, Lovell,” said Bray, “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time.”
“I decided that I’d give you boys a break,” was Lovell’s answer.
He was proud of that answer. He was so proud that he began to smile, and he was still smiling when Dave Lister and Mantry came up. That smile of his was what held their hands. They could not believe what they saw.
“All right,” said Bray. “We’re not here for our health. What have you got to say?”
“What do you want to hear?” asked Lovell, looking squarely at Bray.
“I want to hear where I can pick up half a million in ready cash,” said Bray quietly.
“I could tell you that,” said Lovell.
“We’re listening,” said Bray.
“We make some terms first,” said Lovell.
“Terms?” shouted Joe Mantry. “Terms with you, you rat?”
“You take an oath, all of you. That’s what I mean,” said Lovell. “Beginning with Joe Mantry, you take an oath.”
“I’ll see you “ began Mantry.
“You’ll take an oath,” repeated Lovell.
“I don’t care what happens,” said Mantry. “I’ve got you here. And I know what to do with you. You others turn your backs for a minute.”
“Listen,” said Bray. “Don’t be a fool, Joe. You don’t think he’s out here unless he has something to sell, do you?”
The thing was too obvious. Mantry groaned and turned his back.
“I’ll show you the half million,” said Lovell. “But first we all shake hands. We shake hands that the past is forgotten, that nobody ever damns me for anything I’ve ever done, that nobody ever throws it up to me, that the three of you stand by me like a pal, and that I get a one-fourth cut in the loot.”
Mantry cried out in exquisite pain at the thought.
“Beginning with Joe, we shake hands,” said Lovell, grinning.
He had decided, on deliberations, that nothing would be as good as a handshake. If those fellows could drive themselves to shaking hands with him, the future would be safe for Lovell.
Mantry whirled about and said:
“I’ll see you.”
“Steady!” said Bray. “You see how things are, Joe. What’s the use of cutting your own throat for the sake of Jimmy, here? What’s the use of throwing a hundred thousand plus out the window? Can’t you use a bit of chicken feed like that?”
Those words had their own weight. Mantry groaned again, but suddenly he gave a tug to the brim of his hat, stepped up, and held out his hand.
“I hate your dirty heart, and you know it,” he said. “Nothing will ever stop me from hating it. But here’s my hand, and I’ll stand by what I do with it.”
Lovell took that hand with a nameless relief in his heart. Lister gave his next, silently. Bray said, as he shook hands:
“I never expected to do this. But you’re a bright fellow, Jimmy.”
“Sure I am,” said Jimmy Lovell confidently.
Then he made another cigarette and lighted it.
“They’re in there,” he said. “Wayland’s in there, and the half million in the saddlebag. And Jim Silver!”
There was a quick, subdued chorus of exclamations.
“Silver!”
The three looked at one another, and Lovell enjoyed their dismay for a moment. The half million that had seemed to be in their hands was now jerked off to a distance, as it were.
Then Mantry said: “We gave our hands on condition that the half million should be handed over. There was no talk of any Jim Silver then.”
Lovell laughed.
“The horse and the wolf and the man—they’re all in there,” he said. “But maybe you boys will be glad to know that after Silver stole Wayland away from you— what a lot of dumb birds you are to let him snake a man right out of the lot of you!—after he’d done that, a slug of lead happened to rap him. It tore right through him. He’s lying now on his back, pretty nearly dead. He can just about open his eyes, and that’s all. I thought that maybe you’d be glad to know about that!”
He looked at them and relished the sighs of relief.
“We can go right in, boys,” said Jimmy Lovell. “Ill lead the way. They’ll be down there at the head of the valley. They’re laid up under a big rock—a cut-back at the bottom of a cliff. You can find ‘em by yourselves, but I’ll show you the way. Bray, lend me a gun.”
He got a gun. Not a revolver. He wanted no nonsense like that in this sort of light for shooting. What he wanted was a rifle, and he got it.
“Now,” said Jimmy Lovell, “I want you saps to understand that that fool of a Wayland is in there with Jim Silver. Fool is the right word. And he’s ready to die for his partner, Silver. I tell you, fellows, you’d better shoot straight at him. He’s the one that matters. Silver don’t count. We can blot him out of the picture any time, as soon as Wayland is out of the way. And when we’ve blotted out Jim Silver, will we have something to talk about the rest of our lives? Yes, we will. And a plenty lot, too!”
He laughed again as he said that. To blot out Jim Silver! Why, it would make heroes of them all. It hardly mattered that Jim Silver had been wounded and made helpless. It really mattered not at all. Nobody would ever know about that. All that other people would know would be that the great Jim Silver had been blotted out finally by Lovell and his three companions. In such a killing there was more than enough glory to serve them all around. Every crook in the West would heave a long, long breath of relief. No matter how the actual fight went, there would surely be enough talk afloat to make it into an epic battle. People would point out Jimmy Lovell hereafter. They would whisper to one another: “There goes the man who killed Jim Silver!”
An ecstasy came over Lovell. He was half blinded with joy. Tears came into his eyes. For the moment he had in him the stuff that heroes are made of, and he led the way right down through the darkness of the narrow ravine.
XXV—THE ATTACK
There was not much of the bloody instinct for battle in Wayland, but he had plenty of brains, notwithstanding. He was the sort of a fellow who could read in books and papers about the heroism of other men and shudder to think of their greatness and his own lack of the divine fire. But he had a good head on his shoulders, and as he sat by Silver, pondering the disappearance of Jimmy Lovell and what it was likely to mean, he saw that there was only one answer to the problem.