Biddy and the Silver Man - (3)

"You feel it! You've gotten almighty sensitive--"
    "Dan--please--" Jane stopped suddenly, caught by the sound of pounding feet--the rumble of the crowd. "Someone's coming."
    They went out on the front porch and saw the townspeople swarming into the front yard. Cecil Bates was in the forefront with fat little Tom Schultz, the mayor of Sage Bend beside him.
    Jane's hands were gripped tight together and her heart was a dead weight in her breast. "What's happened? What's the matter? Have you found Biddy?"
    "No, we ain't, Mrs. Parker," Bates said, then turned his words on Dan. "This morning I saw her riding that burro out of town. And I saw something else. She wasn't crippled at all. Never has been. Now we want to know what kind of a shenanigan you're pulling, Dan Parker! Let's have it straight."
    Jane said, "It's true--it's true that Biddy's leg has been healed but it was done yesterday by--"
    "I know. She gave me that story about a man up in the ridges--something Dan told her to say, prob'ly. But now we want the truth!"
    "But you know as much as we do. We've told the truth--as much as we know!"
    "Now we ain't as big fools as you think, Mrs. Parker--"
    "I tell you we've--"
    Dan Parker pushed forward. His eyes were slitted and ugly. "Don't tell him anything, Jane. Not another damned word." Dan pushed close to Bates and the latter fell back a step from his eyes. "I want to ask you just one question--are you calling my wife a liar?"
    Bates hesitated and turned to Schultz for help. He had not expected quite this show of belligerence. Schultz refused to become involved however. He said, "Now wait a minute, Ceec. I don't know anything about this. Besides it isn't my job. Mayor here's nothing but an honorary office anyhow." Having stated his case, he backed away also as Dan Parker moved forward and pressed Cecil Bates back against the crowd.
    Bates said, "Now look here, Dan, I'm duly constituted law around here!"
    "You're a damn snooping busybody and nothing more!"
    "I got a right to investigate and find out if the law's been violated. You know there's laws against abusing a child--"
    Dan Parker's fist cracked against Bates' half-open mouth. A tooth snapped and Bates kited backward. But he did not go down because there were three men behind him who had come for the excitement. They threw him back into the fray, one of them yelling delightedly, "You going to let him do that, to you Ceec? You're the sheriff. Nobody ought to poke the sheriff around."
    Dan swung again, but Cecil Bates dodged and scurried to the side, opening up a space that gave him time to draw his gun. His eyes were cleared of fear now and there was a little sneer on his battered mouth. "All right, Dan! You want to get gunned down? I can do it. Assaulting an officer. And I got witnesses!"
    Bates' trigger finger tightened. There would be joy for him in the bullet he aimed. But at that moment someone in the crowd yelled, "You're on his property, Ceec. You got a warrant?"
    The statement was thoughtless and by sheer chance but it probably saved Dan Parker's life. It made Bates realize his case might not be considered legally clear in a courtroom.
    But he could not bring himself to a complete loss of face. He said, "You're going to jail, Dan. I mean it. One more move and I'll kill you."
    This satisfied the volatile elements of the crowd. "Sure! Throw 'im in the can, Ceec! Show 'im who's boss!" By golly! Sage Bend hadn't seen such excitement in twenty years and maybe there'd be more! The two cow pokes who had met Bates in the lunchroom congratulated each other with happy grins. What if they had gone out early and missed all this?
    Jane was clinging to Dan's tense arm. "Darling, go with him. Do as he says. It's better than being killed." But his fist remained closed. He was on the verge of pulling away from her when she whispered, "We've got Biddy to think of!"
    The fist relaxed and the arm dropped. Dan said, "Okay, Sheriff. Let's go."
    As Bates followed Dan down the street toward the jail, his gun held importantly level, there were comments from the crowd. "Pretty cocky for a guy with his neck out.... Acts as innocent as all get-out, don't he?"
    The remarks stiffened Cecil's courage. He'd done the right thing all right. The crowd was behind him. They respected him. It wasn't bad being sheriff after all.
    His ego rose pleasantly, but only to be knocked flat three minutes later in front of the jail. As the disordered crowd moved up the street, a group of riders--perhaps half a dozen--rounded a building and came into the street at the far end. They moved forward and were waiting in front of the jail when Cecil Bates arrived with his prisoner. Bates lowered his gun and the crowd fell into silence as old Sam Taber sat on a big black in front of his riders and surveyed the scene.
    *       *       *       *       *
    Sam Taber had that about him which signified authority even where no authority was vested. He was the kind of man people stopped and looked at. Slim, cold-faced, and gray-eyed, he had at once the manner of an aristocrat and the wary attitude of one who had met suffering and danger along the way and was on the alert for more.
    After a full minute of silence, he asked coldly, "What is this?"
    Bates said, "I'm arresting this man."
    "Why?"
    "For resisting me--an officer."
    "Why did he resist you?"
    "I went to his house to ask him some questions and--"
    "And what?"
    "He slugged me."
    "What questions did you want to ask him?"
    "About Biddy--his little girl."
    "What did she do--rob the bank?"
    Laughter bubbled in the crowd and Cecil Bates had a sudden helpless feeling. "No, Sam. You see I was up real early this morning and--"
    More laughter and someone remarked, "Glory be! He was up at dawn looking for law-breakers."
    "--I met Biddy Parker riding out on her burro."
    Sam Taber waved an impatient hand. "I got the story--what there was of it. One of my men brought it to me this morning. That's why I'm here."
    "Then you'll back me up."
    Sam Taber rifled a contemptuous look at Bates. "Put that popgun away. You've got no more case than a jackrabbit. I'll ask the questions around here."
    The crowd was silent and Cecil Bates stood alone and the humiliation was gall. He holstered his gun muttering, "You got no right to do this Sam. You got no right to make me look foolish."
    Taber probably did not hear the words. His eyes leveled over the crowd. "Seems to me the little girl's story bears looking into. But you fools have yourselves a picnic while this unknown man may be pointing all hell at you from out in the ridges."
    Bates snatched at the statement. "Say, Sam--you might have something there. That's what I was trying to get at in the first place--"
    Taber cut in. "Come on back to your place, Dan. I want to talk to you."
    *       *       *       *       *
    The crowd melted away as Sam Taber and his silent riders moved toward it. Sam Taber held the black in and rode beside Dan and Jane Parker as the cavalcade moved up the street. Sam said, "I understand Biddy rode off this morning."
    Dan Parker said, "That's right. We were waiting for her to come home so we could--" Dan shrugged. "Then that crazy crowd showed up."
    Jane's hand tightened on Dan's arm. "She's home! There's Buck in the corral. She's home, Dan!" And Jane was running on ahead....
    "I won't tell you," Biddy said, firmly. She had now analyzed the little fear she'd felt upon awakening that morning. Now she knew the reason for it. With the inherent wisdom of childhood, she knew that the grownups would not understand Joe--would not realize how wonderful he was--better than Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, Hopalong Cassidy, and--yes even than Davey Crockett all put together. They wouldn't understand that at all, and the way grownups were, something bad would happen and Joe would be hurt. "I won't tell you, where the cave is or anything more about it."
    *       *       *       *       *
    Dan's eyes mirrored annoyance and frustration. "Now listen here, Biddy--I don't want any more of this nonsense--"
    Jane put an arm around Biddy's shoulders and drew her close. "I think she's right," Jane said quietly.
    Dan flared in surprise. "Well of all the--"
    Jane's eyes swept both her husband and old Sam Taber who was sitting quietly on the teetery straight-backed chair, his gray eyes never moving from Biddy. "I'm sick and ashamed at the way things have gone," Jane said. "Last night I saw my daughter come home and walk across this room without need of the brace that had become the horror of my dreams. I saw her made whole and beautiful by some miracle beyond my knowledge and I wanted only to get down on my knees and thank God. I knew only happiness all the long night and then I awoke to--" Jane swept her hand hopelessly, "--to this. A snarling mob. A near murder. A town suddenly filled with hate and a love of lawlessness. Biddy saw none of this and yet she knows that this healer of hers--real or imaginary--would not be thanked for what he did but probably murdered. She knows this and I love her for it." Jane drew Biddy close. "Don't tell them, dear. Don't ever tell them a thing."
    Dan Parker stood open-mouthed at his wife's long declaration. Sam Taber got to his feet and his eyes held only admiration. He said, "I understand, Jane. And I agree with you it would be like turning a sheep to a pack of wolves."
    "Thank you."
    Sam stood looking thoughtfully at his hat as he turned it slowly in his fingers. "Just one thing," he said suddenly. "Would you mind if I examined Biddy's leg?"
    Jane was surprised at the sudden turn of his mind but she said, "No, of course not, Sam."
    Sam Taber dropped to his knees as Jane slipped off Biddy's little slacks revealing a pair of tight white panties and two perfect legs. Sam raised the left leg gently, like a holy relic and ran gentle fingers down the straight, smooth surface. "The main damage was done above the knee, wasn't it?" Sam asked.
    "Yes, the muscles were pinched and destroyed. There was only the bone left--and enough ligament to--"
    "Davey's is that way too," Sam said. "But his goes even higher--into the hip." Sam matched the legs gently together and muttered, "I'm trying to believe. I'm trying so damned hard--"
    "You shouldn't have to believe, Sam," Jane said.
    He looked up at her dully. "No?"
    "No, because Davey is your boy."
    "Yes--that's true."
    "And when one comes to the end of belief there is faith to carry one further."
    *       *       *       *       *
    Sam got slowly to his feet and now seemed suddenly weary. He spoke softly as though to himself. "I should not need faith. After all, I've put my finger in the wound--" He looked at Biddy with his characteristic suddenness. "Biddy-baby--perhaps your friend in the ridges--maybe he would--"
    Sam stopped, floundering--suddenly out of his depth. All his life he had been a proud man; never in his life had he asked anyone for a favor and even though it was for Davey, he did not know the process of asking.
    Perhaps he would have got the words out even then, but before Jane could help him, another fear blocked the way--Dan Parker's fear. In his mind he saw Davey whole and unbroken, riding the saddle Dan Parker now rode. And while he hated his selfishness--recognized it for the evil and the criminal weakness it was--he still instinctively blocked the way--spoke the words that stopped Sam Taber's plea: "I think you'd better lie down a while, young lady. Get some rest. You were out too early this morning."
    It was an inconsequential barrier, but enough to straighten Sam Taber--bring his natural coldness to the surface--end his plea. He turned toward the door. "You might as well take the rest of the day off, Dan. Won't be much work done today anyhow. See you tomorrow morning."
    Then he was gone; into the black's saddle and leading his quiet riders out of town.
    They watched him from the door and Jane said, "That was cruel Dan. And you did it on purpose. I know you did. A boy's life restored against that miserable job of yours."
    Dan Parker knew inwardly the shame of his weakness but he hid it behind surliness. "Well, somebody's got to look out for Biddy. You'd be perfectly willing to let things go to hell and then moan because there was no food in the house. Somebody's got to be practical." Dan snatched his hat and without another word headed for the tavern....
    *       *       *       *       *
    Art Haney had never had it so good. He chuckled and took another swig from the bottle Cecil Bates offered and thought by God it was about time this town gave a poor blind man a break.
    Cecil Bates leaned forward and took the bottle back. He didn't want this old souse to get plastered and thus become useless. He said, "So you met this guy out in the desert, eh, Haney?"
    "Sure did. At least it was a stranger because I know every voice in these parts. You see when a man's blind like I am, his sense of hearing gets almighty sharp and you take notice--"
    "Yeah, I know. Now he walked along with you and took you to the cave he's got out there?"
    "Nope--he didn't take me--well, not very far. I'm no slouch in getting around even if I am blind and nobody ever helps me. I go out in them ridges sometimes just to sort of hear the quiet sounds. You see a blind man--"
    "I know--I know. So you were out there and--"
    "And he said hello. We got to talking--"
    "What about?"
    "Oh, just this and that. It was getting almighty hot and I asked him if he could give a poor blind man a little something to drink."
    "That was when he took you to the cave."
    "Uh-huh. It was only about fifty feet from where I was. He took me inside and gave me a swig of the damndest stuff you ever drank. Had a kick to it, but not like any whiskey you ever drank."
    Cecil pushed the bottle into his hand. "Try another belt of this."
    Art was highly agreeable. He wiped the neck with a filthy hand and said, "Thank you, Ceec. You're mighty good to a poor helpless blind man."
    Bates let him take a fairly long one, then retrieved the bottle. "And you say you can show me the exact spot where this guy's cave is?"
    "Sure can. Only--"
    "Only what?" Bates scowled and pulled the bottle back as though to keep from wasting any more good liquor.
    "Only that it might be kind of rough on you. I'd have to walk it. Wouldn't know where we was going if we drove. And a blind man taps along pretty slow."
    "Never mind that," Bates said grimly. "I'll tap right along with you. I'd crawl across the Gila Desert to get that guy. I truly would, Art."
    "All right then. Let's get started."
    Cecil Bates grinned. He'd show old Sam Taber what the score was; who was sheriff around here and who wasn't; who could go out and bring in a criminal while everybody else talked about it....
    *       *       *       *       *
    Davey Taber had special foot controls built into his jeep. This gave him a great deal of freedom--access to all the roads roundabout and to any part of the desert on which a jeep could travel.
    Davey was a handsome youth with none of his father's characteristics of leadership. He had a rather long sensitive face with eyes made dark and beautiful from suffering. His hands were the slim delicate hands of an artist.
    He had driven off the Circle-7 toward Sage Bend but when he came within a few miles of the town, he turned away from the road and into the flat desert. There was a strange restless stirring inside him, a hope that was almost akin to pain because he had heard the story of the mysterious man in the ridges and of what had happened to Biddy Parker. If he could only find the man--if the story were only true--if--There were a dozen ifs bouncing through his mind as he wound aimlessly over the hot expanses. If he could only--
    He pushed down on the brake and came to a stop as he saw a spot across the waste, his sharp eyes telling him what it was. A small flop-eared burro and a little girl leading it.
    Biddy Parker! Davey screamed the jeep into motion and headed in that direction. As the intervening distance lessened; Biddy stopped and waved a welcome.
    The jeep came to a halt and Biddy ran toward it. "Look Davey! I can walk! I can run!"
    "I heard. Somebody came to the ranch this morning with the story. Dad went into town."
    "I saw him and he talked to me."
    Davey's eyes asked the question. "What--?"
    Biddy dropped her own eyes. "I--I wouldn't tell anybody where Joe's cave is, Davey."
    "Joe?"
    "He's the man who fixed my leg. He comes from the sky bloc. He's a wonderful man and I was afraid they meant to hurt him."
    Davey had inherited one thing from his father. Pride, and now his face fell as the hope died within him. "Oh, I see. Well, you were probably right. There are some pretty crazy people around these parts. But I'm glad you found him and got cured. It must be pretty nice to walk and run again."
    Biddy came quickly forward and laid a hand on Davey's arm. "I didn't mean that I didn't want you to see Joe, Davey. In fact I talked to him about you and he said he might be able to help you too."
    The gratitude in Davey's face was eloquent. "He did?"
    "Uh-huh. Joe is just wonderful. We'll go there tomorrow--just me and you and Joe will fix your leg."
    Biddy saw the disappointment her words brought. Davey said, "That would be just wonderful."
    "You see its quite a long way from here. I came in the opposite direction on purpose in case anybody followed me. I didn't want to lead them to Joe and now it's getting pretty late."
    Davey glanced at the sun. "Uh-huh. Sun'll be down in fifteen minutes."
    "And I've got to get home or Mom and Pop won't like it. They'll be cross."
    "Sure--a little kid like you shouldn't be out on the desert at night."
    "I'll meet you tomorrow, though. Let's see, where--?"
    "Any place you say, Biddy."
    *       *       *       *       *
    Biddy thought it over very carefully, then suddenly bubbled with the warmth that was a part of her nature. "Davey--we won't wait. We'll go now. It will be way after dark when we get there because I can't leave Buck and he can't go very fast on his short legs, but we'll go anyway and see Joe tonight!"
    Davey's hands trembled. "But what about your folks?"
    Biddy shrugged. "Well, I'll be with you and you're an old person so that ought to make it all right."
    "Well--"
    "Anyhow, let's worry about that later. You make the jeep go real slow and I'll ride beside you. I can make Buck go faster that way."
    "All right."
    So the strange little cavalcade started slowly off across the desert. Biddy prattled on as she rode the phlegmatic Buck beside the jeep and Davey's heart sang a song within him, a crazy, ecstatic song: We're looking for Joe. We're riding over the night desert hunting for him. And maybe we aren't the only ones. Maybe everybody in the world is stumbling through the darkness looking for Joe. What Davey's heart was saying made little sense to his mind. But he did not question its source. He was only twenty-one and not a wise philosopher so he completely over-looked the wisdom of his instinct....
    Cecil Bates sat in the Sage Bend tavern celebrating his luck and preparing for his triumph. This preparation consisted of spreading the word because his very nature demanded witnesses or there would be no triumph at all.
    "So you know where this foreign invader is, eh Ceec?"
    "Sure do." Cecil emptied his shot glass and tapped his forehead with a knowing finger. "Used my head. Used my head, I did."
    "Old blind Haney led you right to the stop, huh?"
    "Almost as close as I am to you. Now nobody'd think a blind man could do a thing like that--nobody but a man who uses his head like I do."
    "You sure are smart Ceec. You say you actually saw the machine he's going to blow us up with?"
    "Not us, I don't think. I think the rat's after our space station. Now what better spot could they pick? Visibility clear as a bell out here--"
    "Think he's from the Eastern Bloc, Ceec?"
    "Course he is. Where else could he come from?"
    *       *       *       *       *
    The voice of a more logical hanger-on came from somewhere in the greatening group. "But it doesn't make sense to come over here to do it. Too risky. They've got deserts over there--just as good visibility."
    *       *       *       *       *
    Cecil was annoyed. Always some guy goofing things up. "Is that so? Well listen to me. Just what in the hell do you know about the mechanics of space-fire and locations and--and things? Seems to me you take a mighty lenient view of things in general mister. It sure does."
    "Gosh, Ceec--I didn't mean--"
    "Then keep your trap shut." Cecil Bates glanced around. Plenty of people here now. Quite a crowd. "Me--I'm going out and get him. I'll have him back in town in an hour. We'll show those rats we got pretty alert law around here."
    "You going alone, Ceec?"
    "Sure am." Bates got up and walked importantly toward the door. There, he stopped and turned. "Course, if a body of citizens tagged along to see how justice works, I guess there's nothing I could do about it." He grinned and winked.
    A shout of approval went up and last drinks were hurriedly slopped down and additional quickies ordered. Then they followed Cecil Bates out into the street, moving with drunken anticipation of excitement.
    Loaded with the dynamite of irresponsibility.
    They streamed out of town behind Cecil Bates' car, not stopping to get other cars or mount horses for fear of being left behind. There was no danger of that however. Bates was not eager to face the strange man in the cave without some show of force in his wake so he traveled slowly enough for all to follow....
    *       *       *       *       *
    Dan and Jane Parker stood on their porch watching the town empty out into the desert. Jane said, "Dan! You must do something. They're--they're dangerous!"
    Dan Parker frowned. "But it's not my job. Cecil Bates is the sheriff--"
    "Bates is a slovenly, dishonest--hoodlum. You know that Dan. They'll do something out there--"
    "What? What will they do? Bates is just going out to arrest that man for questioning and I think he's got a right to do it."
    Jane Parker looked at her husband in new surprise. There was something in her face that had never been there before. A look he would have done well to heed. She said, "Dan--I just don't understand you any more. This isn't you. There's an--an evil coming into you."
    "That's nonsense. Just because I won't stick my nose into the sheriff's business--"
    "At least do this for me, Dan. Go out and tell Sam Taber what's happening. If Sam refuses to act, then I'll be satisfied. But go and tell him."
    Dan Parker's mouth twisted in anger and helpless frustration. "So you think Sam Taber's a better man than your husband? So you have more respect for him than you have for me?"