The more Cheetim drank the louder and more boastful he became. Wichita could hear him narrating the revolting details of numerous crimes that he had committed.
"Yo shua ah some bad hombre, 'Dirty'," eulogized one of his party.
"Oh, I don't claim to be no bad man," replied Cheetim, modestly. "What I says is thet I has brains, an' I use 'em. Look how I fooled 'Smooth'--sent him off on a wild goose chase an' then swipes his girl while he's gone." They all laughed uproariously.
"An' he better not get funny about it neither, even ef he don't like it. I kin use my brains fer other things besides gettin' me my women. Ol' man Billings larnt thet. He kicked me out oncet; an' I suppose he thought I was afraid of him, but I was jest waitin'. I waited a long time, but I got him."
"You got him? You did not. He was kilt by Injuns," contradicted one.
"Injuns, Hell!" ejaculated Cheetim. "Thar's where I used my brains. I killed Billings, but I was cute enough to scalp him. I --"
Drunk as he was, he realized that he had gone too far, had admitted too much. He looked wickedly about the room. "What I've told you is among friends," he said. "Ef any of you fellers ever feels like you'd like to join Billings all you got to do is blab what I jest told you. Savvy?" In the other room Wichita Billings, listening, heard every word that Cheetim spoke, and her soul was seared by shame and vain regret for the wrong she had done the friendless red man. She reproached herself for not listening to the counsel and the urging of her heart, for she knew--she had always known--that she had battled against her love for Shoz-Dijiji, had trampled it beneath her feet, that she might encourage her belief in his perfidy.
If she could only see him once more, if she could only tell him that she knew and ask his forgiveness; but now it was too late.
She heard Cheetim speaking again. "You fellers finish rustlin' the grub," he said. "I'm goin' in an' visit my wife." This sally was applauded with much laughter. "An' I don't want to be disturbed," he concluded, "Savvy?"
A pinto stallion, racing like the wind, bore its rider toward the Crazy B ranch house following the shots that had attracted the attention of the Apache. Fences intervened, but though there were gates in, them Shoz-Dijiji had no time to waste on gates. Straight for them he rode Nejeunee; and the pinto took them in his stride, soaring over them like a bird on the wing.
Chung, kneeling beside Luke in the ranch yard, voiced a startled cry as he saw a pinto stallion, bearing a feared Apache warrior, rise over the bars of the corral; but Chung did not flee. He stood his post, though scarce knowing what to do.
Luke's six-shooter was close beside his hand; but Chung was too surprised to think of it, and a second later the warrior had reined in beside them, his pony sliding upon its haunches for a dozen feet.
Throwing himself to the ground Shoz-Dijiji knelt beside Luke.
"What has happened?" he demanded. "Where is Chita?"
Luke looked up. "Oh, it's you, Shoz-Dijiji? Thank God for that. A bunch of skunks jest rid off into the south hills with her. I ain't hurted bad, but I cain't ride. You go!"
"Sure I go!" As he arose Shoz-Dijiji stripped his clothing from him in an instant, and when he leaped to Nejeunee's back again he wore only moccasins, his G-string, and a head band.
"I get help" he cried, reassuringly, waving his rifle above his head, and an instant later he was racing for the gate.
Down the road from the west thundered Kreff and Jake and Sam just as Shoz-Dijiji swept through the gate. "There's the Siwash killed the Boss!" shouted Sam, who was in the lead, and the words were scarce out of his mouth before he had drawn his gun and opened fire on the Indian. Jake joined in the fusillade of shots; and Shoz-Dijiji, turning upon the back of his war pony, sent a half dozen bullets among them before he vanished into the hills. It was only the rapidity with which their mounts had been moving that prevented any casualties.
"Even a coyote will fight for his life," soliloquized the Apache Devil; but he did not feel like a coyote. Once more he was an Apache war chief riding naked upon the war trail against the hated pindah-lickoyee; and just as he rode from the sight of the white men he could not restrain a single, exultant Apache war whoop.
Into the ranch yard thundered Kreff and his companions. They saw Luke trying to drag himself to his feet and stagger toward him.
"You lop-eared idiots!" he yelled. "Wot in Hell you shootin' at him fer? He's ridin' after the fellers that stole Chita."
"Stole Chita?" cried Kreff. "I was right! Cheetim!"
"I didn't see Cheetim," said Luke. "Whoever it was rid south into the hills. Git the hell out of here and git after them, an' ef you see that Apache leave him be--he's the best friend Wichita Billings's got."
"Chung, you git Luke into the bunk house an' take keer o' him 'til we gets back," Kreff called over his shoulder as the three spurred away again, this time following the trail taken by Shoz-Dijiji.
Plain before the trained eyes of Shoz-Dijiji lay the spoor of his quarry. Swiftly he rode. The errand, the speed of his fleet pony, his own nakedness stirred every savage instinct within him. He had never expected to live again; but this, 0, Usen, was life! He dipped into the pouch at his side and drew out a little silver box that he had never expected to use again, and dipping into it with a fore finger he banded his face with the blue and white war paint of the Apache Devil. He could not lay the colors on carefully at the speed Nejeunee was carrying him; but he wore them, as a ship of war runs up its battle flag as it goes into action.
As Cheetim left them and entered the rear room of the shack, the men in the front room nudged one another, chuckled, and took a drink. They were wiping their mouths with the backs of their hands when the outer door swung open, and a painted warrior stepped into the room.
Luis Mariel, who was standing in a corner, looked wide eyed at the newcomer. The other men reached for their six- shooters. "The Apache Devil!" cried Luis. Shoz-Dijiji looked quickly at him. "Lie down!" he said to him in Spanish. Already he had commenced to shoot. He asked no questions. A man fell.
In the back room Cheetim and Wichita heard the dread name as Luis cried it aloud. Cheetim had just entered and closed the door behind him. He was approaching Wichita as Luis spoke the name of the scourge of three states. At the first shot Cheetim crossed the room at a bound and leaped from the window. A half dozen shots followed in quick succession. Four men lay dead in the outer room when Shoz- Dijiji sprang to the door of the smaller room and swung it open, just in time to see Cheetim mounting a horse in the rear of the building. He recognized him instantly; then he turned toward the girl.
"You hurt?" he demanded.
"No. Oh, Shoz-Dijiji, thank God, you came!" The Apache called to Luis who came running to the door. "You," he said, pointing at the youth. "You know the Apache Devil. You know what he do to his enemies. You take this girl home. If she don't get home safe the Apache Devil settle with you. Sabe?"
He crossed the room to the window.
"Where are you going?" cried Wichita.
"To kill my last pindah-lickoyee," replied Shoz-Dijiji, as he vaulted across the sill.
"Wait! Wait, Shoz-Dijiji," the girl called after him; but Shoz-Dijiji, war chief of the Be-don-ko-he, war chief of all the Apaches, had gone.
The little pinto stallion was scrambling up the steep canyon side as Luis Mariel cut the bonds that held Wichita Billings. The girl ran to the window.
Far above she saw war pony and warrior silhouetted against the darkening sky; and then Shoz-Dijiji, last of the war chiefs, and Nejeunee, last of his wild friends, dropped below the crest and disappeared.