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This set Mr. Masterson on edge.
"We'll start by sun-up," quoth Mr. Masterson. "Ed and Billy can pick up the camp."
When Mr. Masterson discovered how he had been defrauded into Dodge, and learned of those honours designed for him, his modesty took alarm.
"I didn't think, Cimarron," said Mr. Masterson, in tones of reproach, "that you'd cap me up against a game like this!" Then he refused squarely to consider himself a candidate.
"But it's too late, Bat," explained Mr. Short. "You've already been in the field two days, with Updegraffe in opposition. If you refuse to run they'll say you crawfished."
Mr. Short spoke with sly triumph, for it was his chicane which had announced Mr. Masterson as a candidate. He had foreseen its value as an argument.
The sagacity of Mr. Short was justified; Mr. Masterson was plainly staggered. His name had been used; his opponent was in the field; Mr.
Masterson could find no avenue of retreat. It was settled; Mr. Masterson must be a candidate for sheriff of Ford.
The great contest of Masterson against Updegraffe had occupied the public four days when Mr. Peac.o.c.k, Mr. Webster and Mr. Walker, acting for Mr. Updegraffe, waited upon Mr. Wright, Mr. Kelly and Mr. Short, who received them on behalf of Mr. Masterson. Mr. Peac.o.c.k, for the Updegraffe three, made primary explanation. He and his fellow commissioners had observed a falling off in trade. The Alamo was not taking in one-half its normal profits; the same was true of the Dance Hall. The Updegraffe committee asked Mr. Short if an abatement of prosperity had not occurred at the Long Branch, and put the same question concerning the Alhambra to Mr. Kelly. Mr. Kelly and Mr. Short, being appealed to, confessed a business slackness.
"But you know," observed Mr. Kelly, philosophically, "how it is in business; it's a case of come-an'-go, like the old woman's soap."
Mr. Webster believed the falling off due to an election interest which engulfed the souls of folk.
"It takes their minds off such amus.e.m.e.nts as roulette an' farobank an'
rum," explained Mr. Webster. "Besides, the people of Dodge are a mighty cautious outfit. Dodge won't take chances; an' at a ticklish time like this Dodge sobers up."
"There may be something in that," mused Mr. Short. "But, coming down to the turn, what was it you jack-rabbits wanted to say?"
"This is the proposition," said Mr. Webster, "an' we make it for the purpose of gettin' the racket over without delay. Our idea is to set the time for a week from now, round up the votin' population in the Plaza, say at eight o'clock in the evenin', an' count noses, Masterson ag'in Updegraffe, high man win. That's the offer we make. You gents will need an hour to look it over, an' we'll return at the end of that time an'
get your answer."
"How do you figure this?" asked Mr. Wright of his fellow committeemen when the Updegraffe delegation had departed. "Is it a deadfall?"
"Strange as it may sound," responded Mr. Short, "considerin' what liars that outfit is, I'm obliged to admit that for once they're on the squar'."
Mr. Kelly coincided with Mr. Short, and it was finally agreed that the proffer of the Updegraffe contingent should be accepted.
"We're with you," said Mr. Short when Mr. Webster and the others returned, "but not on selfish grounds. We base our action on the bluff that the peace of Dodge requires protection, an' that the office of sheriff, now vacant, should be promptly filled."
"Then the election is settled," said Mr. Webster, who was a practical man, "for eight o'clock in the evenin', one week from to-day, to be pulled off in the Plaza?"
"That's the caper," retorted Mr. Short, and the commissions adjourned.
The canva.s.s went forward in lively vein, albeit, as Mr. Webster had complained, there was a notable falling away in the local appet.i.te for rum. Plainly, Dodge had turned wary in a day that wore a six-shooter, and under circ.u.mstances which tested the tempers of men. Evidently, it had determined that while this election crisis lasted, its hand should remain steady and its head cool.
It was five days before the one appointed for, as Mr. Webster called it, "a count of noses" in the Plaza. The friends of Mr. Masterson developed an irritating fact. There were, man added to man, four hundred and twelve votes in Dodge; of these a careful canva.s.s betrayed two hundred and twelve as being for Mr. Updegraffe-a round majority of twelve.
This disquieting popular condition was chiefly the work of Bear Creek Johnson. The malign influence of that disreputable person controlled full forty votes, being the baser spirits; and these now threatened the defeat of Mr. Masterson.
Cimarron Bill, when he grasped the truth, was for cleansing Dodge of Bear Creek with a Colt's-45. These sanitary steps, however, were forbidden by Mr. Masterson; at that the worthy Cimarron tendered a compromise. He would agree to do no more than mildly wing the offensive Bear Creek.
"No," said Mr. Masterson, "don't lay hand to gun. I'm not going to have Abilene and Hays pointing fingers of scorn at Dodge as being unable to elect a peace officer of the county without somebody getting shot.
Besides, it isn't necessary; I'll beat 'em by strategy."
Cimarron Bill, withheld from that direct aid to Mr. Masterson which his simple nature suggested, groaned in his soul. Observing his grief, Mr.
Masterson detailed Mr. Tighlman to be ever at Cimarron Bill's elbow, ready to repress that volatile recruit in case his feelings got beyond control and sought relief in some sudden bombardment of the felon Bear Creek.
That profligate, thus protected, pursued his election efforts in behalf of Mr. Updegraffe cunningly, being all unchecked. His methods were not unmarked of talent; this should be a specimen:
"What party be you for?" Bear Creek demanded of an Ishmael who lived precariously by chuck-a-luck. The one addressed was of so low a caste that he would accept a wager of ten cents. This put him beneath the notice of such as Mr. Short, whose limit was one hundred and two hundred, and in whose temple of fortune, the Long Branch, white chips were rated at fifty dollars a stack. "Which is it? Masterson or Updegraffe?"
"Well," returned the Ishmael of chuck-a-luck, doubtfully, "I sort o'
allow that Bat Masterson's the best man."
"You do!" retorted the abandoned Bear Creek, disgustedly. "Now listen to me. What does a ten-cent hold-up like you want of the best man? You want the worst man, an' so I tell you! Make it Updegraffe," concluded Bear Creek, convincingly, "an' you stay in Dodge. Make it Masterson, an'
he'll make you an' every other tinhorn hard to find."
It was in that fas.h.i.+on the industrious Bear Creek piled up the majority of twelve. Unless something was done Mr. Masterson would sup disaster, and even the conservative Mr. Kelly whispered that he really thought the plan of Cimarron Bill, for the abatement of Bear Creek, possessed a merit.
"Let me think this over a bit," said Mr. Masterson to Mr. Kelly.
That night Mr. Masterson met Mr. Kelly, Mr. Wright and Mr. Short at the Long Branch and laid bare a plan. Its simplicity impressed Mr.
Masterson's hearers; Mr. Wright even waxed enthusiastic.
"It'll win!" he cried, smiting the poker table about which the four were gathered.
"It sh.o.r.e looks it," coincided Mr. Short. "In any event we lose nothin'; we can always fall back on the guns."
At the latter intimation Mr. Kelly nodded solemnly. While not mercurial, Mr. Kelly was in many of his characteristics one with Cimarron Bill.
There were questions over which their honest natures met and sympathised.
Acting on the plan of Mr. Masterson, Mr. Wright and Mr. Short and Mr.
Kelly craved in their turn a conference with the Updegraffe three.
"It is this, gents, that troubles us," began Mr. Wright, when the committees found themselves together for the second time. "There are hot and headlong sports on our side as there are on yours. If we convene in the Plaza, as we've arranged, there'll be bloodshed. I'm afraid we couldn't restrain some of the more violent among us; indeed, to be entirely frank, I'm afraid I couldn't even restrain myself. And yet, there's a way, gents, in which danger may be avoided. Let us abandon that clause which provides for a count of noses in the Plaza. The end in view can be attained by having it understood that at eight o'clock the Masterson forces are to rally in the Long Branch, and the Updegraffe people in Mr. Peac.o.c.k's Dance Hall. Thus the two sides may be counted separately and the chance of deadly collision eliminated. We will set our watches together so that the count shall occur at eight o'clock sharp. Mr. Kelly for our side will be at the Dance Hall to act with Mr.
Peac.o.c.k in a count of the Updegraffe votes, while Mr. Webster for your interests is welcome to come to the Long Branch to aid Mr. Short in a round-up of the strength of Mr. Masterson. The two forces being out of gunshot of each other, the attendance will be freer and more untrammelled. Following the count Mr. Short and Mr. Kelly, Mr. Webster and Mr. Peac.o.c.k will come together and declare the result. There of course will be no appeal, unless those appealing aim at civil war."
As Mr. Wright talked on, suavely, smoothly, laying down each feature of his design, a slow look of relief stole into the faces of Mr. Webster and Mr. Peac.o.c.k. Even the more hardy features of Mr. Walker were not untouched.
There had been doubts tugging at the Updegraffe three. True, the majority of twelve was theirs, but the weight of valour stood overwhelmingly with Mr. Masterson. The offer of a safe separation of forces was a relief, and Mr. Peac.o.c.k, Mr. Walker and Mr. Webster lost no time in accepting. Notices were posted proclaiming an election after the scheme laid down by Mr. Wright.
It was election night; only the enterprising and those with votes and guns were abroad in Dodge. The rival clans of Masterson and Updegraffe began to gather, respectively, at the Long Branch and the Dance Hall.
There was never a ripple of disorder; nothing could be finer than that peace which was. Ten minutes before eight o'clock, the hour fixed for the count, the strength of each had convened.
The Updegraffe people were jubilant; every man belonging to them being in the Dance Hall, that majority of twelve was sure. The minutes went ticking themselves into eternity, and the watches of Mr. Kelly and Mr.
Peac.o.c.k registered one minute before eight. In sixty seconds the count in the Dance Hall would take place.
At the Long Branch, where the followers of Mr. Masterson filled the rooms, conditions were much the same. There Mr. Webster and Mr. Short would make the tally. Watch in hand they stood waiting for the moment.
It was at this crisis that Mr. Tighlman pulled his pistol and fired through the Long Branch floor. The report was as a joyful signal.
Instantly one hundred shots rang out. Indeed, it was a n.o.ble din! The room filled with smoke; excitement mounted! Cimarron Bill, a six-shooter in each faithful hand, was in the midst of the hubbub, blazing like a piece of fireworks, whooping like a Comanche.