Border Legion (1990) by Zane Grey
Authors: Zane Grey
Bate?"
"Shore will," replied a grizzled individual whom Kells had called Bate Wood. He was not so young as his companions, more sober, less wild, and slower of speech. "I saw both '49 and '51. Them was days!
But I'm agreein' with Red. There shore will be hell on this Idaho border sooner or later. I've been a prospector, though I never hankered after the hard work of diggin' gold. Gold is hard to dig, easy to lose, an' easy to get from some other feller. I see the signs of a comin' strike somewhere in this region. Mebbe it's on now. There's thousands of prospectors in twos an' threes an' groups, out in the hills all over. They ain't a-goin' to tell when they do make a strike. But the gold must be brought out. An' gold is heavy.
It ain't easy hid. Thet's how strikes are discovered. I shore reckon thet this year will beat '49 an' '51. An' fer two reasons. There's a steady stream of broken an' disappointed gold-seekers back-trailin' from California. There's a bigger stream of hopeful an' crazy fortune hunters travelin' in from the East. Then there's the wimmen an' gamblers an' such thet hang on. An' last the men thet the war is drivin' out here. Whenever an' wherever these streams meet, if there's a big gold strike, there'll be the hellishest time the world ever saw!"
"Boys," said Kells, with a ring in his weak voice, "it'll be a harvest for my Border Legion."
"Fer what?" queried Bate Wood, curiously.
All the others except Gulden turned inquiring and interested faces toward the bandit.
"The Border Legion," replied Kells.
"An' what's that?" asked Red Pearce, bluntly.
"Well, if the time's ripe for the great gold fever you say is coming, then it's ripe for the greatest band ever organized. I'll organize. I'll call it the Border Legion."
"Count me in as right-hand, pard," replied Red, with enthusiasm.
"An' shore me, boss," added Bate Wood.
The idea was received vociferously, at which demonstration the giant Gulden raised his massive head and asked, or rather growled, in a heavy voice what the fuss was about. His query, his roused presence, seemed to act upon the others, even Kells, with a strange, disquieting or halting force, as if here was a character or an obstacle to be considered. After a moment of silence Red Pearce explained the project.
"Huh! Nothing new in that," replied Gulden. "I belonged to one once.
It was in Algiers. They called it the Royal Legion."
"Algiers. What's thet?" asked Bate Wood.
"Africa," replied Gulden.
"Say, Gul, you've been around some," said Red Pearce, admiringly.
"What was the Royal Legion?"
"Nothing but a lot of devils from all over. The border there was the last place. Every criminal was safe from pursuit."
"What'd you do?"
Fought among ourselves. Wasn't many in the Legion when I left."
"Shore thet ain't strange!" exclaimed Wood, significantly. But his inference was lost upon Gulden.
"I won't allow fighting in my Legion," said Kells, coolly. "I'll pick this band myself."
"Thet's the secret," rejoined Wood. "The right fellers. I've been in all kinds of bands. Why, I even was a vigilante in '51"
This elicited a laugh from his fellows, except the wooden-faced Gulden.
"How many do we want?" asked Red Pearce.
"The number doesn't matter. But they must be men I can trust and control. Then as lieutenants I'll need a few young fellows, like you, Red. Nervy, daring, cool, quick of wits."
Red Pearce enjoyed the praise bestowed upon him and gave his shoulders a swagger. "Speakin' of that, boss," he said, "reminds me of a chap who rode into Cabin Gulch a few weeks ago. Braced right into Beard's place, where we was all playin' faro, an' he asks for Jack Kells. Right off we all thought he was a guy who had a grievance, an' some of us was for pluggin' him. But I kinda liked him an' I cooled the gang down. Glad I did that. He wasn't wantin' to throw a gun. His intentions were friendly. Of course I didn't show curious about who or what he was. Reckoned he was a young feller who'd gone bad
"Shore will," replied a grizzled individual whom Kells had called Bate Wood. He was not so young as his companions, more sober, less wild, and slower of speech. "I saw both '49 and '51. Them was days!
But I'm agreein' with Red. There shore will be hell on this Idaho border sooner or later. I've been a prospector, though I never hankered after the hard work of diggin' gold. Gold is hard to dig, easy to lose, an' easy to get from some other feller. I see the signs of a comin' strike somewhere in this region. Mebbe it's on now. There's thousands of prospectors in twos an' threes an' groups, out in the hills all over. They ain't a-goin' to tell when they do make a strike. But the gold must be brought out. An' gold is heavy.
It ain't easy hid. Thet's how strikes are discovered. I shore reckon thet this year will beat '49 an' '51. An' fer two reasons. There's a steady stream of broken an' disappointed gold-seekers back-trailin' from California. There's a bigger stream of hopeful an' crazy fortune hunters travelin' in from the East. Then there's the wimmen an' gamblers an' such thet hang on. An' last the men thet the war is drivin' out here. Whenever an' wherever these streams meet, if there's a big gold strike, there'll be the hellishest time the world ever saw!"
"Boys," said Kells, with a ring in his weak voice, "it'll be a harvest for my Border Legion."
"Fer what?" queried Bate Wood, curiously.
All the others except Gulden turned inquiring and interested faces toward the bandit.
"The Border Legion," replied Kells.
"An' what's that?" asked Red Pearce, bluntly.
"Well, if the time's ripe for the great gold fever you say is coming, then it's ripe for the greatest band ever organized. I'll organize. I'll call it the Border Legion."
"Count me in as right-hand, pard," replied Red, with enthusiasm.
"An' shore me, boss," added Bate Wood.
The idea was received vociferously, at which demonstration the giant Gulden raised his massive head and asked, or rather growled, in a heavy voice what the fuss was about. His query, his roused presence, seemed to act upon the others, even Kells, with a strange, disquieting or halting force, as if here was a character or an obstacle to be considered. After a moment of silence Red Pearce explained the project.
"Huh! Nothing new in that," replied Gulden. "I belonged to one once.
It was in Algiers. They called it the Royal Legion."
"Algiers. What's thet?" asked Bate Wood.
"Africa," replied Gulden.
"Say, Gul, you've been around some," said Red Pearce, admiringly.
"What was the Royal Legion?"
"Nothing but a lot of devils from all over. The border there was the last place. Every criminal was safe from pursuit."
"What'd you do?"
Fought among ourselves. Wasn't many in the Legion when I left."
"Shore thet ain't strange!" exclaimed Wood, significantly. But his inference was lost upon Gulden.
"I won't allow fighting in my Legion," said Kells, coolly. "I'll pick this band myself."
"Thet's the secret," rejoined Wood. "The right fellers. I've been in all kinds of bands. Why, I even was a vigilante in '51"
This elicited a laugh from his fellows, except the wooden-faced Gulden.
"How many do we want?" asked Red Pearce.
"The number doesn't matter. But they must be men I can trust and control. Then as lieutenants I'll need a few young fellows, like you, Red. Nervy, daring, cool, quick of wits."
Red Pearce enjoyed the praise bestowed upon him and gave his shoulders a swagger. "Speakin' of that, boss," he said, "reminds me of a chap who rode into Cabin Gulch a few weeks ago. Braced right into Beard's place, where we was all playin' faro, an' he asks for Jack Kells. Right off we all thought he was a guy who had a grievance, an' some of us was for pluggin' him. But I kinda liked him an' I cooled the gang down. Glad I did that. He wasn't wantin' to throw a gun. His intentions were friendly. Of course I didn't show curious about who or what he was. Reckoned he was a young feller who'd gone bad