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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17043-8.txt b/17043-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..897cd11 --- /dev/null +++ b/17043-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8658 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Sheriff's Son, by William MacLeod Raine, +Illustrated by Harold Cue + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Sheriff's Son + + +Author: William MacLeod Raine + + + +Release Date: November 11, 2005 [eBook #17043] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHERIFF'S SON*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 17043-h.htm or 17043-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/4/17043/17043-h/17043-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/4/17043/17043-h.zip) + + + + + +THE SHERIFF'S SON + +by + +WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE + +Author of +The Yukon Trail, Wyoming, etc. + +Illustrated by Harold Cue + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: When Meldrum came in answer to her summons, he met the +shock of his life.] + + + + +New York +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers +Made in the United States of America +Copyright, 1917 and 1918, by Frank A. Munsey Company +Copyright, 1918, by William Macleod Raine +All Rights Reserved +Published April 1918 + + + + + +TO + +ROBERT H. DAVIS + + +WHO WITH HIS USUAL GENEROSITY TO WRITERS + +MADE THE AUTHOR A PRESENT + +OF THE GERM IDEA + +OF THIS PLOT + + + + +Contents + + Foreword + I. Dingwell Gives Three Cheers. + II. Dave Caches a Gunnysack + III. The Old-Timer Sits into a Big Game + IV. Royal Beaudry Hears a Call + V. The Hill Girl + VI. "Cherokee Street" + VII. Jess Tighe Spins a Web + VIII. Beulah Asks Questions + IX. The Man on the Bed + X. Dave Takes a Ride + XI. Tighe Weaves his Web Tighter + XII. Stark Fear + XIII. Beulah Interferes + XIV. Personally Escorted + XV. The Bad Man + XVI. Roy is Invited to Take a Drink + XVII. Roy Improves the Shining Hours + XVIII. Rutherford Answers Questions + XIX. Beaudry Blows a Smoke Wreath + XX. At the Lazy Double D + XXI. Roy Rides his Paint Hoss + XXII. Miss Rutherford Speaks her Mind + XXIII. In the Pit + XXIV. The Bad Man Decides not to Shoot + XXV. Two and a Camp-Fire + XXVI. The Sins of the Fathers + XXVII. The Quicksands + XXVIII. Pat Ryan Evens an Old Score + XXIX. A New Leaf + + + + +The Sheriff's Son + +Foreword + +Through the mesquite a horse moved deviously, following the crooked +trail of least resistance. A man was in the saddle and in front of him +a little boy nodding with sleep. The arm of the rider cradled the +youngster against the lurches of the pony's gait. + +The owner of the arm looked down at the tired little bundle it was +supporting. A wistful tenderness was in the leathery face. To the +rest of the world he was a man of iron. To this wee bit of humanity he +was a nurse, a playmate, a slave. + +"We're 'most to the creek now, son. Onc't we get there, we'll throw +off and camp. You can eat a snack and tumble right off to bye-low +land," he promised. + +The five-year-old smiled faintly and snuggled closer. His long lashes +drooped again to the soft cheeks. With the innocent selfishness of a +child he accepted the love that sheltered him from all troubles. + +A valley opened below the mesa, the trail falling abruptly almost from +the hoofs of the horse. Beaudry drew up and looked down. From rim to +rim the meadow was perhaps half a mile across. Seen from above, the +bed of it was like an emerald lake through which wound a ribbon of +silver. This ribbon was Big Creek. To the right it emerged from a +draw in the foothills where green reaches of forest rose tier after +tier toward the purple mountains. Far up among these peaks Big Creek +had its source in Lost Lake, which lay at the foot of a glacier near +the top of the world. + +The saw-toothed range lifted its crest into a sky of violet haze. Half +an hour since the sun had set in a blaze of splendor behind a crotch of +the hills, but dusk had softened the vivid tints of orange and crimson +and scarlet to a faint pink glow. Already the mountain silhouette had +lost its sharp edge and the outlines were blurring. Soon night would +sift down over the roof of the continent. + +The eyes of the man searched warily the valley below. They rested +closely on the willows by the ford, the cottonwood grove to the left, +and the big rocks beyond the creek. From its case beneath his leg he +took the sawed-off shotgun loaded with buckshot. It rested on the +pommel of the saddle while his long and careful scrutiny swept the +panorama. The spot was an ideal one for an ambush. + +His unease communicated itself to the boy, who began to whimper softly. +Beaudry, distressed, tried to comfort him. + +"Now, don't you, son--don't you. Dad ain't going to let anything hurt +you-all." + +Presently he touched the flank of his roan with a spur and the animal +began to pick its way down the steep trail among the loose rubble. Not +for an instant did the rider relax his vigilance as he descended. At +the ford he examined the ground carefully to make sure that nobody had +crossed since the shower of the afternoon. Swinging to the saddle +again, he put his horse to the water and splashed through to the +opposite shore. Once more he dismounted and studied the approach to +the creek. No tracks had written their story on the sand in the past +few hours. Yet with every sense alert he led the way to the cottonwood +grove where he intended to camp. Not till he had made a tour of the +big rocks and a clump of prickly pears adjoining was his mind easy. + +He came back to find the boy crying. "What's the matter, big son?" he +called cheerily. "Nothing a-tall to be afraid of. This nice +camping-ground fits us like a coat of paint. You-all take forty winks +while dad fixes up some supper." + +He spread his slicker and rolled his coat for a pillow, fitting it +snugly to the child's head. While he lit a fire he beguiled the time +with animated talk. One might have guessed that he was trying to make +the little fellow forget the alarm that had been stirred in his mind. + +"Sing the li'l' ole hawss," commanded the boy, reducing his sobs. + +Beaudry followed orders in a tuneless voice that hopped gayly up and +down. He had invented words and music years ago as a lullaby and the +song was in frequent demand. + + "Li'l' ole hawss an' li'l' ole cow, + Amblin' along by the ole haymow, + Li'l' ole hawss took a bite an' a chew, + 'Durned if I don't,' says the ole cow, too." + +Seventeen stanzas detailed the adventures of this amazing horse and +predatory cow. Somewhere near the middle of the epic little Royal +Beaudry usually dropped asleep. The rhythmic tale always comforted +him. These nameless animals were very real friends of his. They had +been companions of his tenderest years. He loved them with a devotion +from which no fairy tale could wean him. + +Before he had quite surrendered to the lullaby, his father aroused him +to share the bacon and the flapjacks he had cooked. + +"Come and get it, big son," Beaudry called with an imitation of manly +roughness. + +The boy ate drowsily before the fire, nodding between bites. + +Presently the father wrapped the lad up snugly in his blankets and +prompted him while he said his prayers. No woman's hands could have +been tenderer than the calloused ones of this frontiersman. The boy +was his life. For the girl-bride of John Beaudry had died to give this +son birth. + +Beaudry sat by the dying fire and smoked. The hills had faded to +black, shadowy outlines beneath a night of a million stars. During the +day the mountains were companions, heaven was the home of warm friendly +sunshine that poured down lance-straight upon the traveler. But now +the black, jagged peaks were guards that shut him into a vast prison of +loneliness. He was alone with God, an atom of no consequence. Many a +time, when he had looked up into the sky vault from the saddle that was +his pillow, he had known that sense of insignificance. + +To-night the thoughts of John Beaudry were somber. He looked over his +past with a strange feeling that he had lived his life and come to the +end of it. He was not yet forty, a well-set, bow-legged man of medium +height, in perfect health, sound as to every organ. From an old war +wound he had got while raiding with Morgan he limped a little. Two +more recent bullet scars marked his body. But none of these interfered +with his activity. He was in the virile prime of life; yet a bell rang +in his heart the warning that he was soon to die. That was why he was +taking his little son out of the country to safety. + +He took all the precautions that one could, but he knew that in the end +these would fail him. The Rutherfords would get him. Of that he had +no doubt. They would probably have killed him, anyhow, but he had made +his sentence sure when he had shot Anse Rutherford and wounded Eli +Schaick ten days ago. That it had been done by him in self-defense +made no difference. + +Out of the Civil War John Beaudry had come looking only for peace. He +had moved West and been flung into the wild, turbulent life of the +frontier. In the Big Creek country there was no peace for strong men +in the seventies. It was a time and place for rustlers and +horse-thieves to flourish at the expense of honest settlers. They +elected their friends to office and laughed at the law. + +But the tide of civilization laps forward. A cattlemen's association +had been formed. Beaudry, active as an organizer, had been chosen its +first president. With all his energy he had fought the rustlers. When +the time came to make a stand the association nominated Beaudry for +sheriff and elected him. He had prosecuted the thieves remorselessly +in spite of threats and shots in the dark. Two of them had been put by +him behind bars. Others were awaiting trial. The climax had come when +he met Anse Rutherford and his companion at Battle Butte, had defeated +them both single-handed, and had left one dead on the field and the +other badly wounded. + +Men said that John Beaudry was one of the great sheriffs of the West. +Perhaps he was, but he would have to pay the price that such a +reputation exacts. The Rutherford gang had sworn his death and he knew +they would keep the oath. + +The man sat with one hand resting on the slim body of the sleeping boy. +His heart was troubled. What was to become of little Royal without +either father or mother? After the manner of men who live much alone +in the open he spoke his thoughts aloud. + +"Son, one of these here days they're sure a-goin' to get yore dad. +Maybe he'll ride out of town and after a while the hawss will come +galloping back with an empty saddle. A man can be mighty unpopular and +die of old age, but not if he keeps bustin' up the plans of rampageous +two-gun men, not if he shoots them up when they're full of the devil +and bad whiskey. It ain't on the cyards for me to beat them to the +draw every time, let alone that they'll see to it all the breaks are +with them. No, sir. I reckon one of these days you're goin' to be an +orphan, little son." + +He stooped over the child and wrapped the blankets closer. The muscles +of his tanned face twitched. Long he held the warm, slender body of +the boy as close to him as he dared for fear of wakening him. + +The man lay tense and rigid, his set face staring up into the starry +night. It was his hour of trial. A rising tide was sweeping him away. +He had to clutch at every straw to hold his footing. But something in +the man--his lifetime habit of facing the duty that he saw--held him +steady. + +"You got to stand the gaff, Jack Beaudry. Can't run away from your +job, can you? Got to go through, haven't you? Well, then!" + +Peace came at last to the tormented man. He fell asleep. Hours later +he opened his eyes upon a world bathed in light. It was such a brave +warm world that the fears which had gripped him in the chill night +seemed sinister dreams. In this clear, limpid atmosphere only a sick +soul could believe in a blind alley from which there was no escape. + +But facts are facts. He might hope for escape, but even now he could +not delude himself with the thought that he might win through without a +fight. + +While they ate breakfast he told the boy about the mother whom he had +never seen. John Beaudry had always intended to tell Royal the story +of his love for the slender, sweet-lipped girl whose grace and beauty +had flooded his soul. But the reticence of shyness had sealed his +lips. He had cared for her with a reverence too deep for words. + +She was the daughter of well-to-do people visiting in the West. The +young cattleman and she had fallen in love almost at sight and had +remained lovers till the day of her death. After one year of happiness +tragedy had stalked their lives. Beaudry, even then the object of the +rustlers' rage, had been intercepted on the way from Battle Butte to +his ranch. His wife, riding to meet him, heard shots and galloped +forward. From the mesa she looked down into a draw and saw her husband +fighting for his life. He was at bay in a bed of boulders, so well +covered by the big rocks that the rustlers could not easily get at him. +His enemies, scattered fanshape across the entrance to the arroyo, were +gradually edging nearer. In a panic of fear she rode wildly to the +nearest ranch, gasped out her appeal for help, and collapsed in a +woeful little huddle. His friends arrived in time to save Beaudry, +damaged only to the extent of a flesh wound in the shoulder, but the +next week the young wife gave premature birth to her child and died +four days later. + +In mental and physical equipment the baby was heir to the fears which +had beset the last days of the mother. He was a frail little fellow +and he whimpered at trifles. But the clutch of the tiny pink fingers +held John Beaudry more firmly than a grip of steel. With unflagging +patience he fended bogies from the youngster. + +But the day was at hand when he could do this no longer. That was why +he was telling Royal about the mother he had never known. From his +neck he drew a light gold chain, at the end of which was a small square +folding case. In it was a daguerreotype of a golden-haired, smiling +girl who looked out at her son with an effect of shy eagerness. + +"Give Roy pretty lady," demanded the boy. + +Beaudry shook his head slowly. "I reckon that's 'most the only thing +you can ask your dad for that he won't give you." He continued +unsteadily, looking at the picture in the palm of his hand. "Lady-Bird +I called her, son. She used to fill the house with music right out of +her heart. . . . Fine as silk and true as gold. Don't you ever forget +that your mother was a thoroughbred." His voice broke. "But I hadn't +ought to have let her stay out here. She belonged where folks are good +and kind, where they love books and music. Yet she wouldn't leave me +because . . . because . . . Maybe you'll know why she wouldn't some +day, little son." + +He drew a long, ragged breath and slipped the case back under his shirt. + +Quickly Beaudry rose and began to bustle about with suspicious +cheerfulness. He whistled while he packed and saddled. In the fresh +cool morning air they rode across the valley and climbed to the mesa +beyond. The sun mounted higher and the heat shimmered on the trail in +front of them. The surface of the earth was cracked in dry, sun-baked +tiles curving upward at the edges. Cat's-claw clutched at the legs of +the travelers. Occasionally a swift darted from rock to rock. The +faint, low voices of the desert were inaudible when the horse moved. +The riders came out of the silence and moved into the silence. + +It was noon when Beaudry drew into the suburbs of Battle Butte. He +took an inconspicuous way by alleys and side streets to the corral. +His enemies might or might not be in town. He wanted to take no +chances. All he asked was to postpone the crisis until Royal was safe +aboard a train. Crossing San Miguel Street, the riders came face to +face with a man Beaudry knew to be a spy of the Rutherfords. He was a +sleek, sly little man named Chet Fox. + +"Evening sheriff. Looks some like we-all might have rain," Fox said, +rasping his unshaven chin with the palm of a hand. + +"Looks like," agreed Beaudry with a curt nod and rode on. + +Fox disappeared around a corner, hurried forward for half a block, and +turned in at the Silver Dollar Saloon. A broad-shouldered, hawk-nosed +man of thirty was talking to three of his friends. Toward this group +Fox hurried. In a low voice he spoke six words that condemned John +Beaudry to death. + +"Beaudry just now rode into town." + +Hal Rutherford forgot the story he was telling. He gave crisp, short +orders. The men about him left by the back door of the saloon and +scattered. + +Meanwhile the sheriff rode into the Elephant Corral and unsaddled his +horse. He led the animal to the trough in the yard and pumped water +for it. His son trotted back beside him to the stable and played with +a puppy while the roan was being fed. + +Jake Sharp, owner of the corral, stood in the doorway and chatted with +the sheriff for a minute. Was it true that a new schoolhouse was going +to be built on Bonito? And had the sheriff heard whether McCarty was +to be boss of Big Creek roundup? + +Beaudry answered his questions and turned away. Royal clung to one +hand as they walked. The other held the muley gun. + +It was no sound that warned the sheriff. The approach of his enemies +had been noiseless. But the sixth sense that comes to some fighting +men made him look up quickly. Five riders were moving down the street +toward the stable, Hal Rutherford in the lead. The alert glance of the +imperiled man swept the pasture back of the corral. The glint of the +sun heliographed danger from the rifle barrels of two men just topping +the brow of the hill. Two more were stealing up through a draw to the +right. A bullet whistled past the head of the officer. + +The father spoke quietly to his little boy. "Run, son, to the stable." + +The little chap began to sob. Bullets were already kicking up the dust +behind them. Roy clung in terror to the leg of his father. + +Beaudry caught up the child and made a dash for the stable. He reached +it, just as Sharp and his horse-wrangler were disappearing into the +loft. There was no time to climb the ladder with Royal. John flung +open the top of the feed-bin, dropped the boy inside, and slammed down +the lid. + +The story of the fight that followed is still an epic in the Southwest. +There was no question of fair play. The enemies of the sheriff +intended to murder him. + +The men in his rear were already clambering over the corral fence. One +of them had a scarlet handkerchief around his neck. Beaudry fired from +his hip and the vivid kerchief lurched forward into the dust. Almost +at the same moment a sharp sting in the fleshy part of his leg told the +officer that he was wounded. + +From front and rear the attackers surged into the stable. The sheriff +emptied the second barrel of buckshot into the huddle and retreated +into an empty horse-stall. The smoke of many guns filled the air so +that the heads thrust at him seemed oddly detached from bodies. A +red-hot flame burned its way through his chest. He knew he was +mortally wounded. + +Hal Rutherford plunged at him, screaming an oath. "We've got him, +boys." + +Beaudry stumbled back against the manger, the arms of his foe clinging +to him like ropes of steel. Twice he brought down the butt of his +sawed-off gun on the black head of Rutherford. The grip of the big +hillman grew lax, and as the man collapsed, his fingers slid slackly +down the thighs of the officer. + +John dropped the empty weapon and dragged out a Colt's forty-four. He +fired low and fast, not stopping to take aim. Another flame seared its +way through his body. The time left him now could be counted in +seconds. + +But it was not in the man to give up. The old rebel yell of Morgan's +raiders quavered from his throat. They rushed him. With no room even +for six-gun work he turned his revolver into a club. His arm rose and +fell in the mêlée as the drive of the rustlers swept him to and fro. + +So savage was the defense of their victim against the hillmen's +onslaught that he beat them off. A sudden panic seized them, and those +that could still travel fled in terror. + +They left behind them four dead and two badly wounded. One would be a +cripple to the day of his death. Of those who escaped there was not +one that did not carry scars for months as a memento of the battle. + +The sheriff was lying in the stall when Sharp found him. From out of +the feed-bin the owner of the corral brought his boy to the father +whose life was ebbing. The child was trembling like an aspen leaf. + +"Picture," gasped Beaudry, his hand moving feebly toward the chain. + +A bullet had struck the edge of the daguerreo-type case. + +"She . . . tried . . . to save me . . . again," murmured the dying man +with a faint smile. + +He looked at the face of his sweetheart. It smiled an eager invitation +to him. A strange radiance lit his eyes. + +Then his head fell back. He had gone to join his Lady-Bird. + + + + +Chapter I + +Dingwell Gives Three Cheers + +Dave Dingwell had been in the saddle almost since daylight had wakened +him to the magic sunshine of a world washed cool and miraculously clean +by the soft breath of the hills. Steadily he had jogged across the +desert toward the range. Afternoon had brought him to the foothills, +where a fine rain blotted out the peaks and softened the sharp outlines +of the landscape to a gentle blur of green loveliness. + +The rider untied his slicker from the rear of the saddle and slipped +into it. He had lived too long in sun-and-wind-parched New Mexico to +resent a shower. Yet he realized that it might seriously affect the +success of what he had undertaken. + +If there had been any one to observe this solitary traveler, he would +have said that the man gave no heed to the beauty of the day. Since he +had broken camp his impassive gaze had been fixed for the most part on +the ground in front of him. Occasionally he swung his long leg across +the rump of the horse and dismounted to stoop down for a closer +examination of the hoofprints he was following. They were not recent +tracks. He happened to know that they were about three days old. +Plain as a printed book was the story they told him. + +The horses that had made these tracks had been ridden by men in a +desperate hurry. They had walked little and galloped much. Not once +had they fallen into the easy Spanish jog-trot used so much in the +casual travel of the South-west. The spur of some compelling motive +had driven this party at top speed. + +Since Dingwell knew the reason for such haste he rode warily. His +alert caution suggested the panther. The eye of the man pounced surely +upon every bit of cactus or greasewood behind which a possible foe +might be hidden. His lean, sun-tanned face was an open letter of +recommendation as to his ability to take care of himself in a world +that had often glared at him wolfishly. A man in a temper to pick a +quarrel would have looked twice at Dave Dingwell before choosing him as +the object of it--and then would have passed on to a less competent +citizen. + +The trail grew stiffer. It circled into a draw down which tumbled a +jocund little stream. Trout, it might be safely guessed, lurked here +in the riffles and behind the big stones. An ideal camping-ground +this, but the rider rejected it apparently without consideration. He +passed into the cañon beyond, and so by a long uphill climb came to the +higher reaches of the hills. + +He rode patiently, without any hurry, without any hesitation. Here +again a reader of character might have found something significant in +the steadiness of the man. Once on the trail, it would not be easy to +shake him off. + +By the count of years Dingwell might be in the early forties. Many +little wrinkles radiated fanlike from the corners of his eyes. But +whatever his age time had not tamed him. In the cock of those same +steel-blue eyes was something jaunty, something almost debonair, that +carried one back to a youth of care-free rioting in a land of sunshine. +Not that Mr. Dingwell was given to futile dissipations. He had the +reputation of a responsible ranchman. But it is not to be denied that +little devils of mischief at times danced in those orbs. + +Into the hills the trail wound across gulches and along the shoulders +of elephant humps. It brought him into a country of stunted pines and +red sandstone, and so to the summit of a ridge which formed part of the +rim of a saucer-shaped basin. He looked down into an open park hedged +in on the far side by mountains. Scrubby pines straggled up the slopes +from arroyos that cleft the hills. By divers unknown paths these led +into the range beyond. + +A clump of quaking aspens was the chief landmark in the bed of the +park. Though this was the immediate destination of Mr. Dingwell, since +the hoofprints he was following plunged straight down toward the grove, +yet he took certain precautions before venturing nearer. He made sure +that the 45-70 Winchester that lay across the saddle was in working +order. Also he kept along the rim of the saucer-shaped park till he +came to a break where a creek tumbled down in a white foam through a +ravine. + +"It's a heap better to be safe than to be sorry," he explained to +himself cheerfully. "They call this Lonesome Park, and maybe so it +deserves its name to-day. But you never can tell, Dave. We'll make +haste slowly if you don't mind." + +Along the bank of the creek he descended, letting his sure-footed +cowpony pick its own way while he gave strict attention to the scenery. +At a bend of the stream he struck again the trail of the riders he had +been following and came from there directly to the edge of the aspen +clump. + +Apparently his precautions were unnecessary. He was alone. There +could be no doubt of that. Only the tracks of feet and the ashes of a +dead fire showed that within a few days a party had camped here. + +Dingwell threw his bridle to the ground and with his rifle tucked under +his arm examined the tracks carefully. Sometimes he was down on hands +and knees peering at the faint marks of which he was reading the story. +Foot by foot he quartered over the sand, entirely circling the grove +before he returned to the ashes of the dead fire. Certain facts he had +discovered. One was that the party which had camped here had split up +and taken to the hills by different trails instead of as a unit. Still +another was that so far as he could see there had been no digging in or +near the grove. + +It was raining more definitely now, so that the distant peaks were +hidden in a mist. In the lee of the aspens it was still dry. Dingwell +stood there frowning at the ashes of the dead campfire. He had had a +theory, and it was not working out quite as he had hoped. For the +moment he was at a mental impasse. Part of what had happened he could +guess almost as well as if he had been present to see it. Sweeney's +posse had given the fugitives a scare at Dry Gap and driven them back +into the desert. In the early morning they had tried the hills again +and had reached Lonesome Park. But they could not be sure that Sweeney +or some one of the posses sent out by the railroad was not close at +hand. Somewhere in the range back of them the pursuers were combing +the hills, and into those very hills the bandits had to go to disappear +in their mountain haunts. + +Even before reaching the park Dingwell had guessed the robbers would +separate here and strike each for individual safety. But what had they +done with the loot? That was the thing that puzzled him. + +They had divided the gold here. Or one of them had taken it with him +to an appointed rendezvous in the hills. Or they had cached it, One of +these three plans had been followed. But which? + +Dingwell rubbed the open fingers of one hand slowly through his +sunburnt thatch of hair. "Doggone my hide, if it don't look like they +took it with them," he murmured. "But that ain't reasonable, Dave. +The man in charge of this hold-up knew his business. It was smooth +work all the way through. If it hadn't been for bad luck he would have +got away with the whole thing fine. They still had the loot with them +when they got here. No doubt about that. Well, then! He wouldn't +divvy up here, because, if they separated, and any one of them got +caught with the gold on him, it would be a give-away. But if they +didn't have the dough on them, it would not matter if some of the boys +were caught. You can't do anything with a man riding peaceable through +the hills looking for strays, no matter how loaded to the guards with +suspicions you may be. So they would cache the loot. Wouldn't they? +Sure they would if they had any sense. But tell me where, Dave." + +His thoughtful eyes had for some moments been resting on something that +held them. He stooped and picked up a little chip of sealing-wax. +Instantly he knew how it had come here. The gold sacks had been sealed +by the express company with wax. At least one of the sacks had been +opened here by the robbers. + +Did this mean they had divided their treasure here? It might mean +that. Or it might mean that before they cached it they had opened one +sack to see how much it held. Dingwell clung to the opinion that the +latter was the truth, partly because this marched with his hopes and +partly because it seemed to him more likely. There would be a big risk +in taking their haul with them farther. There was none at all in +caching it. + +It was odd how that little heap of ashes in the center of the camp-fire +drew his eye. Ashes did not arrange themselves that way naturally. +Some one had raked these into a pile. Why? And who? + +He could not answer those questions offhand. But he had a large bump +of curiosity about some things. Otherwise he would not have been where +he was that afternoon. With his boot he swept the ashes aside. The +ground beneath them was a little higher than it was in the immediate +neighborhood. Why should the bandits have built their fire on a small +hillock when there was level ground adjacent? There might be a reason +underneath that little rise of ground or there might not. Mr. Dingwell +got out his long hunting-knife, fell on his knees, and began to dig at +the center of the spot where the campfire had been. + +The dirt flew. With his left hand he scooped it from the hole he was +making. Presently the point of his knife struck metal. Three minutes +later he unearthed a heavy gunnysack. Inside of it were a lot of +smaller sacks bearing the seal of the Western Express Company. He had +found the gold stolen by the Rutherford gang from the Pacific Flyer. + +Dave was pleased with himself. It had been a good day's work. He +admitted cheerfully that there was not another man in New Mexico who +could have pulled off successfully the thing he had just done. The +loot had been well hidden. It had been a stroke of genius to cache it +in the spot where the camp-fire was afterward built. But he had +outguessed Jess Tighe that time. His luck had sure stood up fine. The +occasion called for a demonstration. + +He took off his broad-rimmed gray hat. "Three rousing cheers, Mr. +Dingwell," he announced ceremoniously. "Now, all together." + +Rising to his toes, he waved his hat joyously, worked his shoulders +like a college cheer leader, and gave a dumb pantomime of yelling. He +had intended to finish off with a short solo dance step, for it is not +every day that a man finds twenty thousand dollars in gold bars buried +in the sand. + +But he changed his mind. As he let himself slowly down to his heels +there was a sardonic grin on his brown face. In outguessing Tighe he +had slipped one little mental cog, after all, and the chances were that +he would pay high for his error. A man had been lying in the mesquite +close to the creek watching him all the time. He knew it because he +had caught the flash of light on the rifle barrel that covered him. + +The gold-digger beckoned with his hat as he called out. "Come right +along to the party. You're welcome as a frost in June." + +A head raised itself cautiously out of the brush. "Don't you move, or +I'll plug lead into you." + +"I'm hog-tied," answered Dingwell promptly. His mind worked swiftly. +The man with the drop on him was Chet Fox, a hanger-on of the +Rutherford gang, just as he had been seventeen years before when he +betrayed John Beaudry to death. Fox was shrewd and wily, but no +gunman. If Chet was alone, his prisoner did not propose to remain one. +Dave did not intend to make any fool breaks, but it would be hard luck +if he could not contrive a chance to turn the tables. + +"Reach for the roof." + +Dingwell obeyed orders. + +Fox came forward very cautiously. Not for an instant did his beady +eyes lift from the man he covered. + +"Turn your back to me." + +The other man did as he was told. + +Gingerly Fox transferred the rifle to his left hand, then drew a +revolver. He placed the rifle against the fork of a young aspen and +the barrel of the six-gun against the small of Dingwell's back. + +"Make just one break and you're a goner," he threatened. + +With deft fingers he slid the revolver of the cattleman from its +holster. Then, having collected Dingwell's rifle, he fell back a few +steps. + +"Now you can go on with those health exercises I interrupted if you've +a mind to," Fox suggested with a sneer. + +His prisoner turned dejected eyes upon him. "That's right. Rub it in, +Chet. Don't you reckon I know what a long-eared jackass I am?" + +"There's two of us know it then," said Fox dryly. "Now, lift that +gunnysack to your saddle and tie it on behind." + +This done, Fox pulled himself to the saddle, still with a wary eye on +his captive. + +"Hit the trail along the creek," he ordered. + +Dingwell moved forward reluctantly. It was easy to read chagrin and +depression in the sag of his shoulders and the drag of his feet. + +The pig eyes of the fat little man on horseback shone with triumph. He +was enjoying himself hugely. It was worth something to have tamed so +debonair a dare-devil as Dingwell had the reputation of being. He had +the fellow so meek that he would eat out of his hand. + + + + +Chapter II + +Dave Caches a Gunnysack + +Fox rode about ten yards behind his prisoner, who plodded without +spirit up the creek trail that led from the basin. + +"You're certainly an accommodating fellow, Dave," he jeered. "I've +seen them as would have grumbled a heap at digging up that sack, and +then loaning me their horse to carry it whilst they walked. But you're +that cheerful. My own brother wouldn't have been so kind." + +Dingwell grunted sulkily. He may have felt cheerful, but he did not +look it. The pudgy round body of Fox shook with silent laughter. + +"Kind is the word, Dave. Honest, I hate to put myself under +obligations to you like this. If I hadn't seen with my own eyes how +you was feeling the need of them health exercises, I couldn't let you +force your bronc on me. But this little walk will do you a lot of +good. It ain't far. My horse is up there in the pines." + +"What are you going to do with me?" growled the defeated man over his +shoulder. + +"Do with you?" The voice of Fox registered amiable surprise. "Why, I +am going to ask you to go up to the horse ranch with me so that the +boys can thank you proper for digging up the gold." + +Directly in front of them a spur of the range jutted out to meet the +brown foothills. Back of this, forty miles as the crow flies, nestled +a mountain park surrounded by peaks. In it was the Rutherford horse +ranch. Few men traveled to it, and these by little-used trails. Of +those who frequented them, some were night riders. They carried a +price on their heads, fugitives from localities where the arm of the +law reached more surely. + +Through the dry brittle grass the man on horseback followed Dingwell to +the scant pines where his cowpony was tethered. Fox dismounted and +stood over his captive while the latter transferred the gunnysack and +its contents to the other saddle. Never for an instant did the little +spy let the other man close enough to pounce upon him. Even though +Dingwell was cowed, Chet proposed to play it safe. Not till he was in +the saddle himself did he let his prisoner mount. + +Instantly Dave's cowpony went into the air. + +"Whoa, you Teddy! What's the matter with you?" cried the owner of the +horse angrily. "Quit your two-stepping, can't you?" + +The animal had been gentle enough all day, but now a devil of unrest +seemed to have entered it. The sound of trampling hoofs thudded on the +hard, sun-baked earth as the bronco came down like a pile-driver, +camel-backed, with legs stiff and unjointed. Skyward it flung itself +again, whirled in the air, and jarred down at an angle. Wildly flapped +the arms of the cattleman. The quirt, wrong end to, danced up and down +clutched in his flying fist. Each moment it looked as if Mr. Dingwell +would take the dust. + +The fat stomach of Fox shook with mirth. "Go it, you buckaroo," he +shouted. "You got him pulling leather. Sunfish, you pie-faced cayuse." + +The horse in its lunges pounded closer. Fox backed away, momentarily +alarmed. "Here ---- you, hold your brute off. It'll be on top of me +in a minute," he screamed. + +Apparently Dingwell had lost all control of the bucker. Somehow he +still stuck to the saddle, by luck rather than skill it appeared. His +arms, working like windmills, went up as Teddy shot into the air again. +The hump-backed weaver came down close to the other horse. At the same +instant Dingwell's loose arm grew rigid and the loaded end of the quirt +dropped on the head of Fox. + +The body of Fox relaxed and the rifle slid from his nerveless fingers. +Teddy stopped bucking as if a spring had been touched. Dingwell was on +his own feet before the other knew what had happened. His long arm +plucked the little man from the saddle as if he had been a child. + +Still jarred by the blow, Fox looked up with a ludicrous expression on +his fat face. His mind was not yet adjusted to what had taken place. + +"I told you to keep the brute away," he complained querulously. "Now, +see what you've done." + +Dave grinned. "Looks like I spilled your apple cart. No, don't bother +about that gun. I'll take care of it for you. Much obliged." + +Chet's face registered complex emotion. Incredulity struggled with +resentment. "You made that horse buck on purpose," he charged. + +"You're certainly a wiz, Chet," drawled the cattleman. + +"And that business of being sore at yourself and ashamed was all a +bluff. You were laying back to trick me," went on Fox venomously. + +"How did you guess it? Well, don't you care. We're born to trouble as +the sparks fly upward. As for man, his days are as grass. He diggeth +a pit and falleth into it his own self. Likewise he digs a hole and +buries gold, but beholds another guy finds it. See, Second Ananias, +fourteen, twelve." + +"That's how you show your gratitude, is it? I might 'a' shot you safe +and comfortable from the mesquite and saved a lot of trouble." + +"I don't wonder you're disgusted, Chet. But be an optimist. I might +'a' busted you high and wide with that quirt instead of giving you a +nice little easy tap that just did the business. There's no manner of +use being regretful over past mistakes," Dave told him cheerfully. + +"It's easy enough for you to say that," groaned Fox, his hand to an +aching head. "But I didn't lambaste you one on the nut. Anyhow, +you've won out." + +"I had won out all the time, only I hadn't pulled it off yet," Dingwell +explained with a grin. "You didn't think I was going up to the horse +ranch with you meek and humble, did you? But we can talk while we +ride. I got to hustle back to Battle Butte and turn in this sack to +the sheriff so as I can claim the reward. Hate to trouble you, Chet, +but I'll have to ask you to transfer that gunnysack back to Teddy. +He's through bucking for to-day, I shouldn't wonder." + +Sourly Fox did as he was told. Then, still under orders, he mounted +his own horse and rode back with his former prisoner to the park. +Dingwell gathered up the rifle and revolver that had been left at the +edge of the aspen grove and headed the horses for Battle Butte. + +"We'll move lively, Chet," he said. "It will be night first thing we +know." + +Chet Fox was no fool. He could see how carefully Dingwell had built up +the situation for his coup, and he began at once laying the groundwork +for his own escape. There was in his mind no intention of trying to +recover the gold himself, but if he could get away in time to let the +Rutherfords know the situation, he knew that Dave would have an uneasy +life of it. + +"'Course I was joking about shooting you up from the mesquite, Dave," +he explained as the horses climbed the trail from the park. "I ain't +got a thing against you--nothing a-tall. Besides, I'm a law-abiding +citizen. I don't hold with this here gunman business. I never was a +killer, and I don't aim to begin now." + +"Sure, I know how tender-hearted you are, Chet. I'm that way, too. +I'm awful sorry for myself when I get in trouble. That's why I tapped +you on the cocoanut with the end of my quirt. That's why I'd let you +have about three bullets from old Tried and True here right in the back +if you tried to make your getaway. But, as you say, I haven't a thing +against you. I'll promise you one of the nicest funerals Washington +County ever had." + +The little man laughed feebly. "You will have your joke, Dave, but I +know mighty well you wouldn't shoot me. You got no legal right to +detain me." + +"I'd have to wrastle that out with the coroner afterward, I expect," +replied Dingwell casually. "Not thinking of leaving me, are you?" + +"Oh, no! No. Not at all. I was just kinder talking." + +It was seven miles from Lonesome Park to Battle Butte. Fox kept up a +kind of ingratiating whine whenever the road was so rough that the +horses had to fall into a walk. He was not sure whether when it came +to the pinch he could summon nerve to try a bolt, but he laid himself +out to establish friendly relations. Dingwell, reading him like a +primer, cocked a merry eye at the man and grinned. + +About a mile from Battle Butte they caught up with another rider, a +young woman of perhaps twenty. The dark, handsome face that turned to +see who was coming would have been a very attractive one except for its +look of sulky rebellion. From the mop of black hair tendrils had +escaped and brushed the wet cheeks flushed by the sting of the rain. +The girl rode splendidly. Even the slicker that she wore could not +disguise the flat back and the erect carriage of the slender body. + +Dingwell lifted his hat. "Good-evenin', Miss Rutherford." + +She nodded curtly. Her intelligent eyes passed from his to those of +Fox. A question and an answer, neither of them in words, flashed forth +and back between Beulah Rutherford and the little man. + +Dave took a hand in the line-up as they fell into place beside each +other. "Hold on, Fox. You keep to the left of the road. I'll ride +next you with Miss Rutherford on my right." He explained to the girl +with genial mockery his reason. "Chet and I are such _tillicums_ we +hate to let any one get between us." + +Bluntly the girl spoke out, "What's the matter?" + +The cattleman lifted his eyebrows in amused surprise. "Why, nothing at +all, I reckon. There's nothing the matter, is there, Chet?" + +"I've got an engagement to meet your father and he won't let me go," +blurted out Fox. + +"When did you make that hurry-up appointment, Chet?" laughed Dingwell. +"You didn't seem in no manner of hurry when you was lying in the +mesquite back there at Lonesome Park." + +"You've got no business to keep him here. He can go if he wants to," +flashed the young woman. + +"You hear that, Chet. You can go if you want to," murmured Dave with +good-natured irony. + +"Said he'd shoot me in the back if I hit the trail any faster," Fox +snorted to the girl. + +"He wouldn't dare," flamed Beulah Rutherford. + +Her sultry eyes attacked Dingwell. + +He smiled, not a whit disturbed. "You see how it is, Chet. Maybe I +will; maybe I won't. Be a sport and you'll find out." + +For a minute the three rode in silence except for the sound of the +horses moving. Beulah did not fully understand the situation, but it +was clear to her that somehow Dingwell was interfering with a plan of +her people. Her untamed youth resented the high-handed way in which he +seemed to be doing it. What right had he to hold Chet Fox a prisoner +at the point of a rifle? + +She asked a question flatly. "Have you got a warrant for Chet's +arrest?" + +"Only old Tried and True here." Dave patted the barrel of his weapon. + +"You're not a deputy sheriff?" + +"No-o. Not officially." + +"What has Chet done?" + +Dingwell regarded the other man humorously. "What have you done, Chet? +You must 'a' broke some ordinance in that long career of +disrespectability of yours. I reckon we'll put it that you obstructed +traffic at Lonesome Park." + +Miss Rutherford said no more. The rain had given way to a gentle mist. +Presently she took off her slicker and held it on the left side of the +saddle to fold. The cattleman leaned toward her to lend a hand. + +"Lemme roll it up," he said. + +"No, I can." + +With the same motion the girl had learned in roping cattle she flung +the slicker over his head. Her weight on the left stirrup, she threw +her arms about him and drew the oil coat tight. + +"Run, Chet!" she cried. + +Fox was off like a flash. + +Hampered by his rifle, Dave could use only one hand to free himself. +The Rutherford girl clung as if her arms had been ropes of steel. +Before he had shaken her off, the runaway was a hundred yards down the +road galloping for dear life. + +Dave raised his gun. Beulah struck the barrel down with her quirt. He +lowered the rifle, turned to her, and smiled. His grin was rueful but +friendly. + +"You're a right enterprising young lady for a schoolmarm, but I +wouldn't have shot Chet, anyhow. The circumstances don't warrant it." + +She swung from the saddle and picked her coat out of the mud where it +had fallen. Her lithe young figure was supple as that of a boy. + +"You've spoiled my coat," she charged resentfully. + +The injustice of this tickled him. "I'll buy you a new one when we get +to town," he told her promptly. + +Her angry dignity gave her another inch of height. "I'll attend to +that, Mr. Dingwell. Suppose you ride on and leave me alone. I won't +detain you." + +"Meaning that she doesn't like your company, Dave," he mused aloud, +eyes twinkling. "She seemed kinder fond of you, too, a minute ago." + +Almost she stamped her foot. "Will you go? Or shall I?" + +"Oh, I'm going, Miss Rutherford. If I wasn't such an aged, decrepit +wreck I'd come up and be one of your scholars. Anyhow, I'm real glad +to have met you. No, I can't stay longer. So sorry. Good-bye." + +He cantered down the road in the same direction Fox had taken. It +happened that he, too, wanted to be alone, for he had a problem to +solve that would not wait. Fox had galloped in to warn the Rutherford +gang that he had the gold. How long it would take him to round up two +or three of them would depend on chance. Dave knew that they might be +waiting for him before he reached town. He had to get rid of the +treasure between that spot and town, or else he had to turn on his +tired horse and try to escape to the hills. Into his mind popped a +possible solution of the difficulty. It would depend on whether luck +was for or against him. To dismount and hide the sack was impossible, +both because Beulah Rutherford was on his heels and because the muddy +road would show tracks where he had stopped. His plan was to hide it +without leaving the saddle. + +He did. At the outskirts of Battle Butte he crossed the bridge over +Big Creek and deflected to the left. He swung up one street and down +another beside which ran a small field of alfalfa on one side. A +hundred yards beyond it he met another rider, a man called Slim +Sanders, who worked for Buck Rutherford as a cow-puncher. + +The two men exchanged nods without stopping. Apparently the news that +Fox had brought was unknown to the cowboy. But Dingwell knew he was on +his way to the Legal Tender Saloon, which was the hang-out of the +Rutherford followers. In a few minutes Sanders would get his orders. + +Dave rode to the house of Sheriff Sweeney. He learned there that the +sheriff was downtown. Dingwell turned toward the business section of +the town and rode down the main street. From a passer-by he learned +that Sweeney had gone into the Legal Tender a few minutes before. In +front of that saloon he dismounted. + +Fifty yards down the street three men were walking toward him. He +recognized them as Buck Rutherford, Sanders, and Chet Fox. The little +man walked between the other two and told his story excitedly. +Dingwell did not wait for them. He had something he wanted to tell +Sweeney and he passed at once into the saloon. + + + + +Chapter III + +The Old-Timer Sits into a Big Game + +The room into which Dingwell had stepped was as large as a public +dance-hall. Scattered in one part or another of it, singly or in +groups, were fifty or sixty men. In front, to the right, was the bar, +where some cowmen and prospectors were lined up before a counter upon +which were bottles and glasses. A bartender in a white linen jacket +was polishing the walnut top with a cloth. + +Dave shook his head in answer to the invitation to drink that came to +him at once. Casually he chatted with acquaintances as he worked his +way toward the rear. This part of the room was a gambling resort. +Among the various methods of separating the prodigal from his money +were roulette, faro, keno, chuckaluck, and poker tables. Around these +a motley assemblage was gathered. Rich cattlemen brushed shoulders +with the outlaws who were rustling their calves. Mexicans without a +nickel stood side by side with Eastern consumptives out for their +health. Chinese laundrymen played the wheel beside miners and +cowpunchers. Stolid, wooden-faced Indians in blankets from the +reservation watched the turbid life of the Southwest as it eddied +around them. The new West was jostling the old West into the +background, but here the vivid life of the frontier was making its last +stand. + +By the time that Dave had made a tour of two thirds of the room he knew +that Sheriff Sweeney was not among those present. His inquiries +brought out the fact that he must have just left. Dingwell sauntered +toward the door, intending to follow him, but what he saw there changed +his mind. Buck Rutherford and Slim Sanders were lounging together at +one end of the bar. It took no detective to understand that they were +watching the door. A glance to the rear showed Dave two more +Rutherfords at the back exit. That he would have company in case he +left was a safe guess. + +The cattleman chuckled. The little devils of mischief already +mentioned danced in his eyes. If they were waiting for him to go, he +would see that they had a long session of it. Dave was in no hurry. +The night was young yet, and in any case the Legal Tender never closed. +The key had been thrown away ten years before. He could sit it out as +long as the Rutherfords could. + +Dingwell was confident no move would be made against him in public. +The sentiment of the community had developed since that distant day +when the Rutherford gang had shot down Jack Beaudry in open daylight. +Deviltry had to be done under cover now. Moreover, Dave was in the +peculiar situation of advantage that the outlaws could not kill him +until they knew where he had hidden the gold. So far as the +Rutherfords went, he was just now the goose that laid the golden egg. + +He stood chatting with another cattleman for a few moments, then +drifted back to the rear of the hall again. Underneath an elk's head +with magnificent antlers a party sat around a table playing draw poker +with a skinned deck. Two of them were wall-eyed strangers whom +Dingwell guessed to be professional tinhorns. Another ran a curio +store in town. The fourth was Dan Meldrum, one of the toughest crooks +in the county. Nineteen years ago Sheriff Beaudry had sent him to the +penitentiary for rustling calves. The fifth player sat next to the +wall. He was a large, broad-shouldered man close to fifty. His face +had the weather-beaten look of confidence that comes to an outdoor +Westerner used to leading others. + +While Dave was moving past this table, he noticed that Chet Fox was +whispering in the ear of the man next the wall. The poker-player +nodded, and at the same moment his glance met that of Dingwell. The +gray eyes of the big fellow narrowed and grew chill. Fox, starting to +move away, recognized the cattleman from whom he had escaped half an +hour before. Taken by surprise, the little spy looked guilty as an +urchin caught stealing apples. + +It took no clairvoyant to divine what the subject of that whispered +colloquy had been. The cheerful grin of Dave included impartially Fox, +Meldrum, and the player beneath the elk's head. + +The ex-convict spoke first. "Come back to sit in our game, Dave?" he +jeered. + +Dingwell understood that this was a challenge. It was impossible to +look on the ugly, lupine face of the man, marked by the ravages of +forty years of vice and unbridled passion, without knowing that he was +ready for trouble now. But Meldrum was a mere detail of a situation +piquant enough even for so light-hearted a son of the Rockies as this +cattleman. Dave had already invited himself into a far bigger game of +the Rutherford clan than this. Moreover, just now he was so far ahead +that he had cleared the table of all the stakes. Meldrum knew this. +So did Hal Rutherford, the big man sitting next the wall. What would +be their next move? Perhaps if he joined them he would find out. This +course held its dangers, but long experience had taught him that to +walk through besetting perils was less risk than to run from them. + +"If that's an invitation, Dan, you're on," he answered gayly. "Just a +minute, and I'll join you. I want to send a message to Sweeney." + +Without even looking at Meldrum to see the effect of this, Dave +beckoned a Mexican standing near. "Tell the sheriff I want to see him +here _pronto_. You win a dollar if he is back within an hour." + +The Mexican disappeared. Fox followed him. + +The cattleman drew in his chair and was introduced to the two +strangers. The quick, searching look he gave each confirmed his first +impression. These men were professional gamblers. It occurred to him +that they had made a singularly poor choice of victims in Dan Meldrum +and Hal Rutherford. Either of them would reach for his gun at the +first evidence of crooked play. + +No man in Battle Butte was a better poker psychologist than Dingwell, +but to-night cards did not interest him. He was playing a bigger game. +His subconscious mind was alert for developments. Since only his +surface attention was given to poker he played close. + +While Rutherford dealt the cards he talked at Dave. "So you're +expecting Sweeney, are you? Been having trouble with any one?" + +"Or expect to have any?" interjected Meldrum, insolence in his shifty +pig eyes. + +"No, not looking for any," answered Dingwell amiably. "Fact is, I was +prospecting around Lonesome Park and found a gold mine. Looks good, so +I thought I'd tell Sweeney about it. . . . Up to me? I've got +openers." He pushed chips to the center of the table. + +Rutherford also pushed chips forward. "I'll trail along. . . . You +got an idea of taking in Sweeney as a partner? I'm looking for a good +investment. _It would pay you to take me in rather than Sweeney_." + +Three of those at the table accepted this talk at its face value. They +did not sense the tension underneath the apparently casual +give-and-take. Two of them stayed and called for cards. But Dave +understood that he had been offered a compromise. Rutherford had +proposed to divide the gold stolen from the express car, and the +proffer carried with it a threat in case of refusal. + +"Two when you get to me. . . . No, I reckon I'll stick to the sheriff. +I've kinda arranged the deal." + +As Rutherford slid two cards across to him the eyes of the men met. +"Call it off. Sweeney is not the kind of a partner to stay with you to +the finish if your luck turns bad. When I give my word I go through." + +Dingwell looked at his cards. "Check to the pat hand. . . . Point is, +Hal, that I don't expect my luck to turn bad." + +"Hmp! Go in with Sweeney and you'll have bad luck all right. _I'll +promise you that_. Better talk this over with me and put a deal +through." He rapped on the table to show that he too passed without +betting. + +The curio dealer checked and entered a mild protest. "Is this a poker +game or a conversazione, gentlemen? It's stuck with Meldrum. I reckon +he's off in Lonesome Park gold-mining the way he's been listening." + +Meldrum brought his attention back to the game and bet his pat hand. +Dave called. After a moment's hesitation Rutherford threw down his +cards. + +"There's such a thing as pushing your luck too far," he commented. +"Now, take old man Crawford. He was mightily tickled when his brother +Jim left him the Frying Pan Ranch. But that wasn't good enough as it +stood. He had to try to better it by marrying the Swede hash-slinger +from Los Angeles. Later she fed him arsenic in his coffee. A man's a +fool to overplay his luck." + +At the showdown Meldrum disclosed a four-card flush and the cattleman +three jacks. + +As Dave raked in the pot he answered Rutherford casually. "Still, he +hadn't ought to underplay it either. The other fellow may be out on a +limb." + +"Say, is it any of your business how I play my cards?" demanded +Meldrum, thrusting his chin toward Dingwell. + +"Absolutely none," replied Dave evenly. + +"Cut that out, Dan," ordered Rutherford curtly. + +The ex-convict mumbled something into his beard, but subsided. + +Two hours had slipped away before Dingwell commented on the fact that +the sheriff had not arrived. He did not voice his suspicion that the +Mexican had been intercepted by the Rutherfords. + +"Looks like Sweeney didn't get my message," he said lazily. "You never +can tell when a Mexican is going to get too tired to travel farther." + +"Better hook up with me on that gold-mine proposition, Dave," Hal +Rutherford suggested again. + +"No, I reckon not, Hal. Much obliged, just the same." + +Dave began to watch the game more closely. There were points about it +worth noticing. For one thing, the two strangers had a habit of +getting the others into a pot and cross-raising them exasperatingly. +If Dave had kept even, it was only because he refused to be drawn into +inviting pots when either of the strangers was dealing. He observed +that though they claimed not to have met each other before there was +team work in their play. Moreover, the yellow and blue chips were +mostly piled up in front of them, while Meldrum, Rutherford, and the +curio dealer had all bought several times. Dave waited until his +doubts of crooked work became certainty before he moved. + +"The game's framed. Blair has rung in a cold deck on us. He and Smith +are playing in cahoots." + +Dingwell had risen. His hands rested on the table as an assurance that +he did not mean to back up his charge with a gunplay unless it became +necessary. + +The man who called himself Blair wasted no words in denial. His right +hand slid toward his hip pocket. Simultaneously the fingers of Dave's +left hand knotted to a fist, his arm jolted forward, and the bony +knuckles collided with the jaw of the tinhorn. The body of the +cattleman had not moved. There seemed no special effort in the blow, +but Blair went backward in his chair heels over head. The man writhed +on the floor, turned over, and lay still. + +From the moment that he had launched his blow Dave wasted no more +attention on Blair. His eyes fastened upon Smith. The man made a +motion to rise. + +"Don't you," advised the cattleman gently. "Not till I say so, Mr. +Smith. There's no manner of hurry a-tall. Meldrum, see what he's got +in his right-hand pocket. Better not object, Smith, unless you want to +ride at your own funeral." + +Meldrum drew from the man's pocket a pack of cards. + +"I thought so. They've been switching decks on us. The one we're +playing with is marked. Run your finger over the ace of clubs there, +Hal. . . . How about it?" + +"Pin-pricked," announced Rutherford. "And they've garnered in most of +the chips. What do you think?" + +"That I'll beat both their heads off," cut in Meldrum, purple with rage. + +"Not necessary, Dan," vetoed Dingwell. "We'll shear the wolves. Each +of you help yourself to chips equal to the amount you have lost. . . . +Now, Mr. Smith, you and your partner will dig up one hundred and +ninety-three dollars for these gentlemen." + +"Why?" sputtered Smith. "It's all a frame-up. We've been playing a +straight game. But say we haven't. They have got their chips back. +Let them cash in to the house. What more do you want?" + +"One hundred and ninety-three dollars. I thought I mentioned that +already. You tried to rob these men of that amount, but you didn't get +away with it. Now you'll rob yourself of just the same sum. Frisk +yourself, Mr. Smith." + +"Not on your life I won't. It. . . it's an outrage. It's robbery. +I'll not stand for it." His words were brave, but the voice of the man +quavered. The bulbous, fishy eyes of the cheat wavered before the +implacable ones of the cattleman. + +"Come through." + +The gambler's gaze passed around the table and found no help from the +men he had been robbing. A crowd was beginning to gather. Swiftly he +decided to pay forfeit and get out while there was still time. He drew +a roll of bills from his pocket and with trembling fingers counted out +the sum named. He shoved it across the table and rose. + +"Now, take your friend and both of you hit the trail out of town," +ordered the cattleman. + +Blair had by this time got to his feet and was leaning stupidly on a +chair. His companion helped him from the room. At the door he turned +and glared at Dingwell. + +"You're going to pay for this--and pay big," he spat out, his voice +shaking with rage. + +"Oh, that's all right," answered Dingwell easily. + +The game broke up. Rutherford nodded a good-night to the cattleman and +left with Meldrum. Presently Dave noticed that Buck and the rest of +the clan had also gone. Only Slim Sanders was left, and he was playing +the wheel. + +"Time to hit the hay," Dave yawned. + +The bartender called "Good-night" as Dingwell went out of the swinging +doors. He said afterward that he thought he heard the sound of +scuffling and smothered voices outside. But his interest in the matter +did not take him as far as the door to find out if anything was wrong. + + + + +Chapter IV + +Royal Beaudry Hears a Call + +A bow-legged little man with the spurs still jingling on his heels +sauntered down one side of the old plaza. He passed a train of +fagot-laden burros in charge of two Mexican boys from Tesuque, the +sides and back of each diminished mule so packed with firewood that it +was a comical caricature of a beruffed Elizabethan dame. Into the +plaza narrow, twisted streets of adobe rambled carelessly. One of +these led to the San Miguel Mission, said to be the oldest church in +the United States. + +An entire side of the square was occupied by a long, one-story adobe +structure. This was the Governor's Palace. For three hundred years it +had been the seat of turbulent and tragic history. Its solid walls had +withstood many a siege and had stifled the cries of dozens of tortured +prisoners. The mail-clad Spanish explorers Penelosa and De Salivar had +from here set out across the desert on their search for gold and glory. +In one of its rooms the last Mexican governor had dictated his defiance +to General Kearny just before the Stars and Stripes fluttered from its +flagpole. The Spaniard, the Indian, the Mexican, and the American in +turn had written here in action the romance of the Southwest. + +The little man was of the outdoors. His soft gray creased hat, the +sun-tan on his face and neck, the direct steadiness of the blue eyes +with the fine lines at the corners, were evidence enough even if he had +not carried in the wrinkles of his corduroy suit about seven pounds of +white powdered New Mexico. + +He strolled down the sidewalk in front of the Palace, the while he +chewed tobacco absent-mindedly. There was something very much on his +mind, so that it was by chance alone that his eye lit on a new tin sign +tacked to the wall. He squinted at it incredulously. His mind +digested the information it contained while his jaws worked steadily. + +The sign read:-- + + DESPACHO + + DE + + ROYAL BEAUDRY, LICENDIADO. + +For those who preferred another language, a second announcement +appeared below the first:-- + + ROYAL BEAUDRY. + + ATTORNEY AT LAW. + +"Sure, and it must be the boy himself," said the little man aloud. + +He opened the door and walked in. + +A young man sat reading with his heels crossed on the top of a desk. A +large calf-bound volume was open before him, but the book in the hands +of the youth looked less formidable. It bore the title, "Adventures of +Sherlock Holmes." The budding lawyer flashed a startled glance at his +caller and slid Dr. Watson's hero into an open drawer. + +The visitor grinned and remarked with a just perceptible Irish accent: +"'Tis a good book. I've read it myself." + +The embryo Blackstone blushed. "Say, are you a client?" he asked. + +"No-o." + +"Gee! I was afraid you were my first. I like your looks. I'd hate +for you to have the bad luck to get me for your lawyer." He laughed, +boyishly. There was a very engaging quality about his candor. + +The Irishman shot an abrupt question at him. "Are you John Beaudry's +son--him that was fighting sheriff of Washington County twenty years +ago?" + +A hint of apprehension flickered into the eyes of the young man. +"Yes," he said. + +"Your father was a gr-reat man, the gamest officer that ever the Big +Creek country saw. Me name is Patrick Ryan." + +"Glad to meet any friend of my father, Mr. Ryan." Roy Beaudry offered +his hand. His fine eyes glowed. + +"Wait," warned the little cowpuncher grimly. "I'm no liar, whativer +else I've been. Mebbe you'll be glad you've met me--an' mebbe you +won't. First off, I was no friend of your father. I trailed with the +Rutherford outfit them days. It's all long past and I'll tell youse +straight that he just missed me in the round-up that sent two of our +bunch to the pen." + +In the heart of young Beaudry a dull premonition of evil stirred. His +hand fell limply. Why had this man come out of the dead past to seek +him? His panic-stricken eyes clung as though fascinated to those of +Ryan. + +"Do you mean . . . that you were a rustler?" + +Ryan looked full at him. "You've said it. I was a wild young colt +thim days, full of the divil and all. But remimber this. I held no +grudge at Jack Beaudry. That's what he was elected for--to put me and +my sort out of business. Why should I hate him because he was man +enough to do it?" + +"That's not what some of your friends thought." + +"You're right, worse luck. I was out on the range when it happened. +I'll say this for Hal Rutherford. He was full of bad whiskey when your +father was murdered. . . . But that ended it for me. I broke with the +Huerfano gang outfit and I've run straight iver since." + +"Why have you come to me? What do you want?" asked the young lawyer, +his throat dry. + +"I need your help." + +"What for? Why should I give it? I don't know you." + +"It's not for mysilf that I want it. There's a friend of your father +in trouble. When I saw the sign with your name on it I came in to tell +you." + +"What sort of trouble?" + +"That's a long story. Did you iver hear of Dave Dingwell?" + +"Yes. I've never met him, but he put me through law school." + +"How come that?" + +"I was living in Denver with my aunt. A letter came from Mr. Dingwell +offering to pay the expenses of my education. He said he owed that +much to my father." + +"Well, then, Dave Dingwell has disappeared off the earth." + +"What do you mean--disappeared?" asked Roy. + +"He walked out of the Legal Tender Saloon one night and no friend of +his has seen him since. That was last Tuesday." + +"Is that all? He may have gone hunting--or to Denver--or Los Angeles." + +"No, he didn't do any one of the three. He was either murdered or else +hid out in the hills by them that had a reason for it." + +"Do you suspect some one?" + +"I do," answered Ryan promptly. "If he was killed, two tinhorn +gamblers did it. If he's under guard in the hills, the Rutherford gang +have got him." + +"The Rutherfords, the same ones that--?" + +"The ver-ry same--Hal and Buck and a brood of young hellions they have +raised." + +"But why should they kidnap Mr. Dingwell? If they had anything against +him, why wouldn't they kill him?" + +"If the Rutherfords have got him it is because he knows something they +want to know. Listen, and I'll tell you what I think." + +The Irishman drew up a chair and told Beaudry the story of that night +in the Legal Tender as far as he could piece it together. He had +talked with one of the poker-players, the man that owned the curio +store, and from him had gathered all he could remember of the talk +between Dingwell and Rutherford. + +"Get these points, lad," Ryan went on. "Dave comes to town from a long +day's ride. He tells Rutherford that he has been prospecting and has +found gold in Lonesome Park. Nothing to that. Dave is a cattleman, +not a prospector. Rutherford knows that as well as I do. But he falls +right in with Dingwell's story. He offers to go partners with Dave on +his gold mine--keeps talking about it--insists on going in with him." + +"I don't see anything in that," said Roy. + +"You will presently. Keep it in mind that there wasn't any gold mine +and couldn't have been. That talk was a blind to cover something else. +Good enough. Now chew on this awhile. Dave sent a Mexican to bring +the sheriff, but Sweeney didn't come. He explained that he wanted to +go partners with Sweeney about this gold-mine proposition. If he was +talking about a real gold mine, that is teetotally unreasonable. +Nobody would pick Sweeney for a partner. He's a fathead and Dave +worked against him before election. But Sweeney _is sheriff of +Washington County_. Get that?" + +"I suppose you mean that Dingwell had something on the Rutherfords and +was going to turn them over to the law." + +"You're getting warm, boy. Does the hold-up of the Pacific Flyer help +you any?" + +Roy drew a long breath of surprise. "You mean the Western Express +robbery two weeks ago?" + +"Sure I mean that. Say the Rutherford outfit did that job." + +"And that Dingwell got evidence of it. But then they would kill him." +The heart of the young man sank. He had a warm place in it for this +unknown friend who had paid his law-school expenses. + +"You're forgetting about the gold mine Dave claimed to have found in +Lonesome Park. Suppose he was hunting strays and saw them cache their +loot somewhere. Suppose he dug it up. Say they knew he had it, but +didn't know where he had taken it. They couldn't kill him. They would +have to hold him prisoner till they could make him tell where it was." + +The young lawyer shook his head. "Too many _ifs_. Each one makes a +weak joint in your argument. Put them all together and it is full of +holes. Possible, but extremely improbable." + +An eager excitement flashed in the blue eyes of the Irishman. + +"You're looking at the thing wrong end to. Get a grip on your facts +first. The Western Express Company was robbed of twenty thousand +dollars and the robbers were run into the hills. The Rutherford outfit +is the very gang to pull off that hold-up. Dave tells Hal Rutherford, +the leader of the tribe, that he has sent for the sheriff. Hal tries +to get him to call it off. Dave talks about a gold mine he has found +and Rutherford tries to fix up a deal with him. There's no _if_ about +any of that, me young Sherlock Holmes." + +"No, you've built up a case. But there's a stronger case already built +for us, isn't there? Dingwell exposed the gamblers Blair and Smith, +knocked one of them cold, made them dig up a lot of money, and drove +them out of town. They left, swearing vengeance. He rides away, and +he is never seen again. The natural assumption is that they lay in +wait for him and killed him." + +"Then where is the body?" + +"Lying out in the cactus somewhere--or buried in the sand." + +"That wouldn't be a bad guess--if it wasn't for another bit of +testimony that came in to show that Dave was alive five hours after he +left the Legal Tender. A sheepherder on the Creosote Flats heard the +sound of horses' hoofs early next morning. He looked out of his tent +and saw three horses. Two of the riders carried rifles. The third +rode between them. He didn't carry any gun. They were a couple of +hundred yards away and the herder didn't recognize any of the men. But +it looked to him like the man without the gun was a prisoner." + +"Well, what does that prove?" + +"If the man in the middle was Dave--and that's the hunch I'm betting on +to the limit--it lets out the tinhorns. Their play would be to kill +and make a quick getaway. There wouldn't be any object in their taking +a prisoner away off to the Flats. If this man was Dave, Blair and +Smith are eliminated from the list of suspects. That leaves the +Rutherfords." + +"But you don't know that this was Dingwell." + +"That's where you come in, me brave Sherlock. Dave's friends can't +move to help him. You see, they're all known men. It might be the end +of Dave if they lifted a finger. But you're not known to the +Rutherfords. You slip in over Wagon Wheel Gap to Huerfano Park, pick +up what you can, and come out to Battle Butte with your news." + +"You mean--spy on them?" + +"Of coorse." + +"But what if they suspected me?" + +"Then your heirs at law would collect the insurance," Ryan told him +composedly. + +Excuses poured out of young Beaudry one on top of another. "No, I +can't go. I won't mix up in it. It's not my affair. Besides, I can't +get away from my business." + +"I see your business keeps you jumping," dryly commented the Irishman. +"And you know best whether it's your affair." + +Beaudry could have stood it better if the man had railed at him, if he +had put up an argument to show why he must come to the aid of the +friend who had helped him. This cool, contemptuous dismissal of him +stung. He began to pace the room in rising excitement. + +"I hate that country up there. I've got no use for it. It killed my +mother just as surely as it did my father. I left there when I was a +child, but I'll never forget that dreadful day seventeen years ago. +Sometimes I wake in bed out of some devil's nightmare and live it over. +Why should I go back to that bloody battleground? Hasn't it cost me +enough already? It's easy for you to come and tell me to go to +Huerfano Park--" + +"Hold your horses, Mr. Beaudry. I'm not tellin' you to go. I've laid +the facts before ye. Go or stay as you please." + +"That's all very well," snapped back the young man. "But I know what +you'll think of me if I don't go." + +"What you'll think of yourself matters more. I haven't got to live +with ye for forty years." + +Roy Beaudry writhed. He was sensitive and high-strung. +Temperamentally he coveted the good opinion of those about him. +Moreover, he wanted to deserve it. No man had ever spoken to him in +just the tone of this little Irish cowpuncher, who had come out of +nowhere into his life and brought to him his first big problem for +decision. Even though the man had confessed himself a rustler, the +young lawyer could not escape his judgment. Pat Ryan might have ridden +on many lawless trails in his youth, but the dynamic spark of +self-respect still burned in his soul. He was a man, every inch of his +five-foot three. + +"I want to live at peace," the boy went on hotly. "Huerfano Park is +still in the dark ages. I'm no gunman. I stand for law and order. +This is the day of civilization. Why should I embroil myself with a +lot of murderous outlaws when what I want is to sit here and make +friends--?" + +The Irishman hammered his fist on the table and exploded. "Then sit +here, damn ye! But why the hell should any one want to make friends +with a white-livered pup like you? I thought you was Jack Beaudry's +son, but I'll niver believe it. Jack didn't sit on a padded chair and +talk about law and order. By God, no! He went out with a six-gun and +made them. No gamer, whiter man ever strapped a forty-four to his hip. +_He_ niver talked about what it would cost him to go through for his +friends. He just went the limit without any guff." + +Ryan jingled out of the room in hot scorn and left one young peace +advocate in a turmoil of emotion. + +Young Beaudry did not need to discuss with himself the ethics of the +situation. A clear call had come to him on behalf of the man who had +been his best friend, even though he had never met him. He must answer +that call, or he must turn his back on it. Sophistry would not help at +all. There were no excuses his own mind would accept. + +But Royal Beaudry had been timid from his childhood. He had inherited +fear. The shadow of it had always stretched toward him. His cheeks +burned with shame to recall that it had not been a week since he had +looked under the bed at night before getting in to make sure nobody was +hidden there. What was the use of blinking the truth? He was a born +coward. It was the skeleton in the closet of his soul. His schooldays +had been haunted by the ghost of dread. Never in his life had he +played truant, though he had admired beyond measure the reckless little +dare-devils who took their fun and paid for it. He had contrived to +avoid fights with his mates and thrashings from the teachers. On the +one occasion when public opinion had driven him to put up his fists, he +had been saved from disgrace only because the bully against whom he had +turned proved to be an arrant craven. + +He remembered how he had been induced to go out and try for the +football team at the university. His fellows knew him as a fair +gymnast and a crack tennis player. He was muscular, well-built, and +fast on his feet, almost perfectly put together for a halfback. On the +second day of practice he had shirked a hard tackle, though it happened +that nobody suspected the truth but himself. Next morning he turned in +his suit with the plea that he had promised his aunt not to play. + +Now trepidation was at his throat again, and there was no escape from a +choice that would put a label on him. It had been his right to play +football or not as he pleased. But this was different. A summons had +come to his loyalty, to the fundamental manhood of him. If he left +David Dingwell to his fate, he could never look at himself again in the +glass without knowing that he was facing a dastard. + +The trouble was that he had too much imagination. As a child he had +conjured dragons out of the darkness that had no existence except in +his hectic fancy. So it was now. He had only to give his mind play to +see himself helpless in the hands of the Rutherfords. + +But he was essentially stanch and generous. Fate had played him a +scurvy trick in making him a trembler, but he knew it was not in him to +turn his back on Dingwell. No matter how much he might rebel and +squirm he would have to come to time in the end. + +After a wretched afternoon he hunted up Ryan at his hotel. + +"When do you want me to start?" he asked sharply. + +The little cowpuncher was sitting in the lobby reading a newspaper. He +took one look at the harassed youth and jumped up. + +"Say, you're all right. Put her there." + +Royal's cold hand met the rough one of Ryan. The shrewd eyes of the +Irishman judged the other. + +"I knew youse couldn't be a quitter and John Beaudry's son," he +continued. "Why, come to that, the sooner you start the quicker." + +"I'll have to change my name." + +"Sure you will. And you'd better peddle something--insurance, or +lightning rods, or 'The Royal Gall'ry of Po'try 'n Art' or--" + +"'Life of the James and Younger Brothers.' That ought to sell well +with the Rutherfords," suggested Roy satirically, trying to rise to the +occasion. + +"Jess Tighe and Dan Meldrum don't need any pointers from the James +Boys." + +"Tighe and Meldrum-- Who are they?" + +"Meldrum is a coyote your father trapped and sent to the pen. He's a +bad actor for fair. And Tighe--well, if you put a hole in his head +you'd blow out the brains of the Rutherford gang. For hiven's sake +don't let Jess know who you are. All of sivinteen years he's been a +cripple on crutches, and 't was your father that laid him up the day of +his death. He's a rivingeful divil is Jess." + +Beaudry made no comment. It seemed to him that his heart was of +chilled lead. + + + + +Chapter V + +The Hill Girl + +The Irish cowpuncher guided young Royal Beaudry through Wagon Wheel Gap +himself. They traveled in the night, since it would not do for the two +to be seen together. In the early morning Ryan left the young man and +turned back toward Battle Butte. The way to Huerfano Park, even from +here, was difficult to find, but Roy had a map drawn from memory by Pat. + +"I'll not guarantee it," the little rider had cautioned. "It's been +many a year since I was in to the park and maybe my memory is playing +tricks. But it's the best I can do for you." + +Beaudry spent the first half of the day in a pine grove far up in the +hills. It would stir suspicion if he were seen on the road at dawn, +for that would mean that he must have come through the Gap in the +night. So he unsaddled and stretched himself on the sun-dappled ground +for an hour or two's rest. He did not expect to sleep, even though he +had been up all night. He was too uneasy in mind and his nerves were +too taut. + +But it was a perfect day of warm spring sunshine. He looked up into a +blue unflecked sky. The tireless hum of insects made murmurous music +all about him. The air was vocal with the notes of nesting birds. His +eyes closed drowsily. + +When he opened them again, the sun was high in the heavens. He saddled +and took the trail. Within the hour he knew that he was lost. Either +he had mistaken some of the landmarks of Ryan's sketchy map or else the +cowpuncher had forgotten the lay of the country. + +Still, Roy knew roughly the general direction of Huerfano Park. If he +kept going he was bound to get nearer. Perhaps he might run into a +road or meet some sheepherder who would put him on the right way. + +He was in the heart of the watershed where Big Creek heads. +Occasionally from a hilltop he could see the peaks rising gaunt in +front of him. Between him and them were many miles of tangled +mesquite, wooded cañons, and hills innumerable. Somewhere among the +recesses of these land waves Huerfano Park was hidden. + +It was three o'clock by Royal's watch when he had worked to the top of +a bluff which looked down upon a wooded valley. His eyes swept the +landscape and came to rest upon an object moving slowly in the +mesquite. He watched it incuriously, but his interest quickened when +it came out of the bushes into a dry water-course and he discovered +that the figure was that of a human being. The person walked with an +odd, dragging limp. Presently he discerned that the traveler below was +a woman and that she was pulling something after her. For perhaps +fifty yards she would keep going and then would stop. Once she +crouched down over her load. + +Roy cupped his hands at his mouth and shouted. The figure straightened +alertly and looked around. He called to her again. His voice must +have reached her very faintly. She did not try to answer in words, but +fired twice with a revolver. Evidently she had not yet seen him. + +That there was something wrong Beaudry felt sure. He did not know +what, nor did he waste any time speculating about it. The easiest +descent to the valley was around the rear of the bluff, but Roy +clambered down a heavily wooded gulch a little to the right. He saved +time by going directly. + +When Roy saw the woman again he was close upon her. She was stooped +over something and her back and arms showed tension. At sound of his +approach she flung up quickly the mass of inky black hair that had +hidden her bent face. As she rose it became apparent that she was tall +and slender, and that the clear complexion, just now at least, was +quite without color. + +Moving forward through the underbrush, Beaudry took stock of this dusky +nymph with surprise. In her attitude was something wild and free and +proud. It was as if she challenged his presence even though she had +summoned him. Across his mind flashed the thought that this was woman +primeval before the conventions of civilization had tamed her to its +uses. + +Her intent eyes watched him steadily as he came into the open. + +"Who are you?" she demanded. + +"I was on the bluff and saw you. I thought you were in trouble. You +limped as if--" + +He stopped, amazed. For the first time he saw that her foot was caught +in a wolf trap. This explained the peculiarity of gait he had noticed +from above. She had been dragging the heavy Newhouse trap and the clog +with her as she walked. One glance at her face was enough to show how +greatly she was suffering. + +Fortunately she was wearing a small pair of high-heeled boots such as +cowpunchers use, and the stiff leather had broken the shock of the blow +from the steel jaws. Otherwise the force of the released spring must +have shattered her ankle. + +"I can't quite open the trap," she explained. "If you will help me--" + +Roy put his weight on the springs and removed the pressure of the jaws. +The girl drew out her numb leg. She straightened herself, swayed, and +clutched blindly at him. Next moment her body relaxed and she was +unconscious in his arms. + +He laid her on the moss and looked about for water. There was some in +his canteen, but that was attached to the saddle on the top of the +bluff. For present purposes it might as well have been at the North +Pole. He could not leave her while she was like this. But since he +had to be giving some first aid, he drew from her foot the boot that +had been in the steel trap, so as to relieve the ankle. + +Her eyelids fluttered, she gave a deep sigh, and looked with a +perplexed doubt upon the world to which she had just returned. + +"You fainted," Roy told her by way of explanation. + +The young woman winced and looked at her foot. The angry color flushed +into her cheeks. Her annoyance was at herself, but she visited it upon +him. + +"Who told you to take off my boot?" + +"I thought it might help the pain." + +She snatched up the boot and started to pull it on, but gave this up +with a long breath that was almost a groan. + +"I'm a nice kind of a baby," she jeered. + +"It must hurt like sixty," he ventured. Then, after momentary +hesitation: "You'd better let me bind up your ankle. I have water in +my canteen. I'll run up and get some as soon as I'm through." + +There was something of sullen suspicion in the glance her dark eyes +flashed at him. + +"You can get me water if you want to," she told him, a little +ungraciously. + +He understood that his offer to tie up the ankle had been refused. +When he returned with his horse twenty minutes later, he knew why she +had let him go for the water. It had been the easiest way to get rid +of him for the time. The fat bulge beneath her stocking showed that +she had taken advantage of his absence to bind the bruised leg herself. + +"Is it better now--less painful?" he asked. + +She dismissed his sympathy with a curt little nod. "I'm the biggest +fool in Washington County. We've been setting traps for wolves. +They've been getting our lambs. I jumped off my horse right into this +one. Blacky is a skittish colt and when the trap went off, he bolted." + +He smiled a little at the disgust she heaped upon herself. + +"You'll have to ride my horse to your home. How far is it?" + +"Five miles, maybe." The girl looked at her ankle resentfully. It was +plain that she did not relish the idea of being under obligations to +him. But to attempt to walk so far was out of the question. Even now +when she was not using the foot she suffered a good deal of pain. + +"Cornell isn't a bit skittish. He's an old plug. You'll find his gait +easy," Beaudry told her. + +If she had not wanted to keep her weight from the wounded ankle, she +would have rejected scornfully his offer to help her mount, for she was +used to flinging her lithe body into the saddle as easily as her +brothers did. The girl had read in books of men aiding women to reach +their seat on the back of a horse, but she had not the least idea how +the thing was done. Because of her ignorance she was embarrassed. The +result was that they boggled the business, and it was only at the third +attempt that he got her on as gracefully as if she had been a sack of +meal. + +"Sorry. I'm awfully awkward," he apologized. + +Again an angry flush stained her cheeks. The stupidity had been hers, +not his. She resented it that he was ready to take the blame,--read +into his manner a condescension he did not at all feel. + +"I know whose fault it was. I'm not a fool," she snapped brusquely. + +It added to her irritation at making such an exhibition of clumsiness +that she was one of the best horsewomen in the Territory. Her life had +been an outdoor one, and she had stuck to the saddle on the back of +many an outlaw bronco without pulling leather. There were many things +of which she knew nothing. The ways of sophisticated women, the +conventions of society, were alien to her life. She was mountain-bred, +brought up among men, an outcast even from the better class of Battle +Butte. But the life of the ranch she knew. That this soft-cheeked boy +from town should think she did not know how to get on a horse was a +little too humiliating. Some day, if she ever got a chance, she would +let him see her vault into the saddle without touching the stirrups. + +The young man walking beside the horse might still be smooth-cheeked, +but he had the muscles of an athlete. He took the hills with a light, +springy step and breathed easily after stiff climbing. His mind was +busy making out what manner of girl this was. She was new to his +experience. He had met none like her. That she was a proud, sulky +creature he could easily guess from her quickness at taking offense. +She resented even the appearance of being ridiculous. Her acceptance +of his favors carried always the implication that she hated him for +offering them. It was a safe guess that back of those flashing eyes +were a passionate temper and an imperious will. + +It was evident that she knew the country as a teacher knows the primer +through which she leads her children. In daylight or in darkness, with +or without a trail, she could have followed almost an air-line to the +ranch. The paths she took wound in and out through unsuspected gorges +and over divides that only goats or cow-ponies could have safely +scrambled up and down. Hidden pockets had been cached here so +profusely by nature that the country was a maze. A man might have +found safety from pursuit in one of these for a lifetime if he had been +provisioned. + +"Where were you going when you found me?" the young woman asked. + +"Up to the mountain ranches of Big Creek. I was lost, so we ought to +put it that you found me," Beaudry answered with the flash of a +pleasant smile. + +"What are you going to do up there?" Her keen suspicious eyes watched +him warily. + +"Sell windmills if I can. I've got the best proposition on the market." + +"Why do you come away up here? Don't you know that the Big Creek +headwaters are off the map?" + +"That's it exactly," he replied. "I expect no agents get up here. +It's too hard to get in. I ought to be able to sell a whole lot easier +than if I took the valleys." He laughed a little, by way of taking her +into his confidence. "I'll tell the ranchers that if they buy my +windmills it will put Big Creek on the map." + +"They won't buy them," she added with a sudden flare of temper. "This +country up here is fifty years behind the times. It doesn't want to be +modern." + +Over a boulder bed, by rock fissures, they came at last to a sword gash +in the top of the world. It cleft a passage through the range to +another gorge, at the foot of which lay a mountain park dotted with +ranch buildings. On every side the valley was hemmed in by giant peaks. + +"Huerfano Park?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"You live here?" + +"Yes." She pointed to a group of buildings to the left. "That is my +father's place. They call it the 'Horse Ranch.'" + +He turned startled eyes upon her. "Then you are--?" + +"Beulah Rutherford, the daughter of Hal Rutherford." + + + + +Chapter VI + +"Cherokee Street" + +She was the first to break the silence after her announcement. + +"What's the matter? You look as if you had seen a ghost." + +He had. The ghost of a dreadful day had leaped at him out of the past. +Men on murder bent were riding down the street toward their victim. At +the head of that company rode her father; the one they were about to +kill was his. A wave of sickness shuddered through him. + +"It--it's my heart," he answered in a smothered voice. "Sometimes it +acts queer. I'll be all right in a minute." + +The young woman drew the horse to a halt and looked down at him. Her +eyes, for the first time since they had met, registered concern. + +"The altitude, probably. We're over nine thousand feet high. You're +not used to walking in the clouds. We'll rest here." + +She swung from the saddle and trailed the reins. + +"Sit down," the girl ordered after she had seated herself +tailor-fashion on the moss. + +Reluctantly he did as he was told. He clenched his teeth in a cold +rage at himself. Unless he conquered that habit of flying into panic +at every crisis, he was lost. + +Beulah leaned forward and plucked an anemone blossom from a rock +cranny. "Isn't it wonderful how brave they are? You wouldn't think +they would have courage to grow up so fine and delicate among the rocks +without any soil to feed them." + +Often, in the days that followed, he thought of what she had said about +the anemones and applied it to herself. She, too, had grown up among +the rocks spiritually. He could see the effect of the barren soil in +her suspicious and unfriendly attitude toward life. There was in her +manner a resentment at fate, a bitterness that no girl of her years +should have felt. In her wary eyes he read distrust of him. Was it +because she was the product of heredity and environment? Her people +had outlawed themselves from society. They had lived with their hands +against the world of settled order. She could not escape the law that +their turbulent sins must be visited upon her. + +Young Beaudry followed the lead she had given him. "Yes, that is the +most amazing thing in life--that no matter how poor the soil and how +bad the conditions fine and lovely things grow up everywhere." + +The sardonic smile on her dark face mocked him. "You find a sermon in +it, do you?" + +"Don't you?" + +She plucked the wild flower out by the roots. "It struggles--and +struggles--and blooms for a day--and withers. What's the use?" she +demanded, almost savagely. Then, before he could answer, the girl +closed the door she had opened for him. "We must be moving. The sun +has already set in the valley." + +His glances swept the park below. Heavily wooded gulches pushed down +from the roots of the mountains that girt Huerfano to meet the fences +of the ranchers. The cliffs rose sheer and bleak. The panorama was a +wild and primitive one. It suggested to the troubled mind of the young +man an eagle's nest built far up in the crags from which the great bird +could swoop down upon its victims. He carried the figure farther. +Were these hillmen eagles, hawks, and vultures? And was he beside them +only a tomtit? He wished he knew. + +"Were you born here?" he asked, his thoughts jumping back to the girl +beside him. + +"Yes." + +"And you've always lived here?" + +"Except for one year when I went away to school." + +"Where?" + +"To Denver." + +The thing he was thinking jumped into words almost unconsciously. + +"Do you like it here?" + +"Like it?" Her dusky eyes stabbed at him. "What does it matter +whether I like it? I have to live here, don't I?" + +The swift parry and thrust of the girl was almost ferocious. + +"I oughtn't to have put it that way," he apologized. "What I meant +was, did you like your year outside at school?" + +Abruptly she rose. "We'll be going. You ride down. My foot is all +right now." + +"I wouldn't think of it," he answered promptly. "You might injure +yourself for life." + +"I tell you I'm all right," she said, impatience in her voice. + +To prove her claim she limped a few yards slowly. In spite of a +stubborn will the girl's breath came raggedly. Beaudry caught the +bridle of the horse and followed her. + +"Don't, please. You might hurt yourself," he urged. + +She nodded. "All right. Bring the horse close to that big rock." + +From the boulder she mounted without his help. Presently she asked a +careless question. + +"Why do you call him Cornell? Is it for the college?" + +"Yes. I went to school there a year." He roused himself to answer +with the proper degree of lightness. "At the ball games we barked in +chorus a rhyme: 'Cornell I yell--yell--yell--Cornell.' That's how it +is with this old plug. If I want to get anywhere before the day after +to-morrow, I have to yell--yell--yell." + +The young woman showed in a smile a row of white strong teeth. "I see. +His real name is Day-After-To-Morrow, but you call him Cornell for +short. Why not just Corn? He would appreciate that, perhaps." + +"You've christened him, Miss Rutherford. Corn he shall be, henceforth +and forevermore." + +They picked their way carefully down through the cañon and emerged from +it into the open meadow. The road led plain, and straight to the horse +ranch. Just before they reached the house, a young man cantered up +from the opposite direction. + +He was a black-haired, dark young giant of about twenty-four. Before +he turned to the girl, he looked her companion over casually and +contemptuously. + +"Hello, Boots! Where's your horse?" he asked. + +"Bolted. Hasn't Blacky got home yet?" + +"Don't know. Haven't been home. Get thrown?" + +"No. Stepped into one of your wolf traps." She turned to include +Beaudry. "This gentleman--Mr.--?" + +Caught at advantage, Roy groped wildly for the name he had chosen. His +mind was a blank. At random he snatched for the first that came. It +happened to be his old Denver address. + +"Cherokee Street," he gasped. + +Instantly he knew he had made a mistake. + +"That's odd," Beulah said. "There's a street called Cherokee in +Denver. Were you named for it?" + +He lied, not very valiantly. "Yes, I--I think so. You see, I was born +on it, and my parents--since their name was Street, anyhow,--thought it +a sort of distinction to give me that name. I've never much liked it." + +The girl spoke to the young man beside her. "Mr. Street helped me out +of the trap and lent me his horse to get home. I hurt my leg." She +proceeded to introductions. "Mr. Street, this is my brother, Jeff +Rutherford." + +Jeff nodded curtly. He happened to be dismounting, so he did not offer +to shake hands. Over the back of the horse he looked at his sister's +guest without comment. Again he seemed to dismiss him from his mind as +of no importance. When he spoke, it was to Beulah. + +"That's a fool business--stepping into wolf traps. How did you come to +do it?" + +"It doesn't matter how. I did it." + +"Hurt any?" + +She swung from the saddle and limped a few steps. "Nothing to make any +fuss about. Dad home?" + +"Yep. Set the trap again after you sprung it, Boots?" + +"No. Set your own traps," she flung over her shoulder. "This way, Mr. +Street." + +Roy followed her to the house and was ushered into a room where a young +man sat cleaning a revolver with one leg thrown across a second chair. +Tilted on the back of his head was a cowpuncher's pinched-in hat. He +too had black hair and a black mustache. Like all the Rutherfords he +was handsome after a fashion, though the debonair recklessness of his +good looks offered a warning of temper. + +"'Lo, Boots," he greeted his sister, and fastened his black eyes on her +guest. + +Beaudry noticed that he did not take off his hat or lift his leg from +the chair. + +"Mr. Street, this is my brother Hal. I don't need to tell you that he +hasn't been very well brought up." + +Young Rutherford did not accept the hint. "My friends take me as they +find me, sis. Others can go to Guinea." + +Beulah flushed with annoyance. She drew one of the gauntlets from her +hand and with the fingers of it flipped the hat from the head of her +brother. Simultaneously her foot pushed away the chair upon which his +leg rested. + +He jumped up, half inclined to be angry. After a moment he thought +better of it, and grinned. + +"I'm not the only member of the family shy on manners, Boots," he said. +"What's the matter with you? Showing off before company?" + +"I'd have a fine chance with you three young rowdies in the house," she +retorted derisively. "Where's dad?" + +As if in answer to her question the door opened to let in a big, +middle-aged rancher with a fine shock of grizzled hair and heavy black +eyebrows. Beulah went through the formula of introduction again, but +without it Beaudry would have known this hawk-nosed man whose gaze +bored into his. The hand he offered to Hal Rutherford was cold and +clammy. A chill shiver passed through him. + +The young woman went on swiftly to tell how her guest had rescued her +from the wolf trap and walked home beside her while she rode his horse. + +"I'll send for Doc Spindler and have him look at your ankle, honey," +the father announced at once. + +"Oh, it's all right--bruised up a bit--that's all," Beulah objected. + +"We'll make sure, Boots. Slap a saddle on and ride for the Doc, Hal." +When the young man had left the room, his father turned again to Roy. +His arm gathered in the girl beside him. "We're sure a heap obliged to +you, Mr. Street. It was right lucky you happened along." + +To see the father and daughter together was evidence enough of the +strong affection that bound them. The tone in which he had spoken to +his son had been brusque and crisp, but when he addressed her, his +voice took on a softer inflection, his eyes betrayed the place she held +in his heart. + +The man looked what he was--the chief of a clan, the almost feudal +leader of a tribe which lived outside the law. To deny him a certain +nobility of appearance was impossible. Young Beaudry guessed that he +was arrogant, but this lay hidden under a manner of bluff frankness. +One did not need a second glance to see from whom the younger +Rutherfords had inherited their dark, good looks. The family likeness +was strong in all of them, but nature had taken her revenge for the +anti-social life of the father. The boys had reverted toward savagery. +They were elemental and undisciplined. This was, perhaps, true of +Beulah also. There were moments when she suggested in the startled +poise of her light body and the flash of her quick eyes a wild young +creature of the forest set for night. But in her case atavism +manifested itself charmingly in the untamed grace of a rich young +personality vital with life. It was an interesting speculation whether +in twenty years she would develop into a harridan or a woman of unusual +character. + +The big living-room of the ranch house was a man's domain. A +magnificent elk head decorated one of the walls. Upon the antlers +rested a rifle and from one of the tines depended a belt with a +six-shooter in its holster. A braided leather quirt lay on the table +and beside it a spur one of the boys had brought in to be riveted. +Tossed carelessly into one corner were a fishing-rod and a creel. A +shotgun and a pair of rubber waders occupied the corner diagonally +opposite. + +But there were evidences to show that Beulah had modified at least her +environment. An upright piano and a music-rack were the most +conspicuous. Upon the piano was a padded-covered gift copy of "Aurora +Leigh." A similar one of "In Memoriam" lay on the mantel next to a +photograph of the girl's dead mother framed in small shells. These +were mementoes of Beulah's childhood. A good copy of Del Sarto's John +the Baptist hanging from the wall and two or three recent novels +offered an intimation that she was now beyond shell frames and +padded-leather editions. + +Miss Rutherford hobbled away to look after her ankle and to give orders +for supper to the ranch cook. Conversation waned. The owner of the +place invited Roy out to look over with him a new ram he had just +imported from Galloway. The young man jumped at the chance. He knew +as much about sheep as he did of Egyptian hieroglyphics, but he +preferred to talk about the mange rather than his reasons for visiting +Huerfano Park. + +Just at present strangers were not welcome in the park. Rutherford +himself was courteous on account of the service he had done Beulah, but +the boys were frankly suspicious. Detectives of the express company +had been poking about the hills. Was this young fellow who called +himself Street a spy sent in by the Western? While Beaudry ate supper +with the family, he felt himself under the close observation of four +pairs of watchful eyes. + +Afterward a young man rode into the ranch and another pair of eyes was +added to those that took stock of the guest. Brad Charlton said he had +come to see Ned Rutherford about a gun, but Ned's sister was the real +reason for his call. This young man was something of a dandy. He wore +a Chihuahua hat and the picturesque trappings with which the Southwest +sometimes adorns itself. The fine workmanship of the saddle, bridle, +and stirrups was noticeable. His silk handkerchief, shirt, and boots +were of the best. There was in his movements an easy and graceful +deliberation, but back of his slowness was a chill, wary strength. + +Roy discovered shortly that Charlton was a local Admirable Crichton. +He was known as a crack rider, a good roper, and a dead shot. +Moreover, he had the reputation of being ready to fight at the drop of +the hat. To the Rutherford boys he was a hero. Whether he was one +also to Beulah her guest had not yet learned, but it took no wiseacre +to guess that he wanted to be. + +As soon as the eyes of Charlton and Beaudry met there was born between +them an antagonism. Jealousy sharpened the suspicions of the young +rancher. He was the sort of man that cannot brook rivalry. That the +newcomer had been of assistance to Miss Rutherford was enough in itself +to stir his doubts. + +He set himself to verify them. + + + + +Chapter VII + +Jess Tighe Spins a Web + +"Then you left Denver, did you?" asked Charlton suavely. + +Roy laughed. "Yes, then I left Denver and went to college and shouted, +'Rah, rah, rah, Cornell.' In time I became a man and put away childish +things. Can I sell you a windmill, Mr. Charlton, warranted to raise +more water with less air pressure than any other in the market?" + +"Been selling windmills long?" the rancher asked casually. + +It was his ninth question in fifteen minutes. Beaudry knew that he was +being cross-examined and his study of law had taught him that he had +better stick to the truth so far as possible. He turned to Miss +Rutherford. + +"Your friend is bawling me out," he gayly pretended to whisper. "I +never sold a windmill in my life. But I'm on my uppers. I've got a +good proposition. This country needs the Dynamo Aermotor and I need +the money. So I took the agency. I have learned a fifteen minutes' +spiel. It gives seven reasons why Mr. Charlton will miss half the joy +of life until he buys a Dynamo. Do you think he is a good prospect, +Miss Rutherford?" + +"Dad has been talking windmill," she said. "Sell him one." + +"So has Jess Tighe," Charlton added. He turned to Jeff Rutherford. +"Couldn't you take Mr. Street over to see Jess to-morrow morning?" + +Jeff started promptly to decline, but as his friend's eyes met his he +changed his mind. "I guess I could, maybe." + +"I don't want to trouble you, Mr. Rutherford," objected Roy. + +Something in the manner of Charlton annoyed Beulah. This young man was +her guest. She did not see any reason why Brad should bombard him with +questions. + +"If Jeff is too busy I'll take you myself," she told Beaudry. + +"Oh, Jeff won't be too busy. He can take a half-day off," put in his +father. + +When Charlton left, Beulah followed him as far as the porch. + +"Do you think Mr. Street is a horse-thief that you ask him so many +questions?" she demanded indignantly. + +He looked straight at her. "I don't know what he is, Beulah, but I'm +going to find out." + +"Isn't it possible that he is what he says he is?" + +"Sure it's possible, but I don't believe it." + +"Of course, I know you like to think the worst of a man, but when you +meet him in my house I'll thank you to treat him properly. I vouch for +him." + +"You never met him before this afternoon." + +"That's my business. It ought to be enough for you that he is my +guest." + +Charlton filled in the ellipsis. "If it isn't I can stay away, can't +I? Well, I'm not going to quarrel with you, Beulah. Good-night." + +As soon as he was out of sight of the ranch, Charlton turned the head +of his horse, not toward his own place, but toward that of Jess Tighe. + +Dr. Spindler drove up while Beulah was still on the porch. He examined +the bruised ankle, dressed it, and pronounced that all it needed was a +rest. No bones were broken, but the ligaments were strained. For +several days she must give up riding and walking. + +The ankle pained a good deal during the night, so that its owner slept +intermittently. By morning she was no longer suffering, but was far +too restless to stay in the house. + +"I'm going to drive Mr. Street over to the Tighe place in the buggy," +she announced at breakfast. + +Her brothers exchanged glances. + +"Think you'd better go so far with your bad ankle, honey?" Hal +Rutherford, senior, asked. + +"It doesn't make any difference, dad, so long as I don't put my weight +on it." + +She had her way, as she usually did. One of the boys hitched up and +brought the team to the front of the house. Beaudry took the seat +beside Beulah. + +The girl gathered up the reins, nodded good-bye to her father, and +drove off. + +It was such a day as comes not more than a dozen times a season even in +New Mexico. The pure light from the blue sky and the pine-combed air +from the hills were like wine to their young blood. Once when the road +climbed a hilltop the long saw-toothed range lifted before them, but +mostly they could not see beyond the bastioned ramparts that hemmed in +the park or the nearer wooded gulches that ran down from them. + +Beulah had brought her camera. They took pictures of each other. They +gathered wild flowers. They talked as eagerly as children. Somehow +the bars were down between them. The girl had lost the manner of +sullen resentment that had impressed him yesterday. She was gay and +happy and vivid. Wild roses bloomed in her cheeks. For this young man +belonged to the great world outside in which she was so interested. +Other topics than horses and cattle and drinking-bouts were the themes +of his talk. He had been to theaters and read books and visited large +cities. His coming had enriched life for her. + +The trail took them past a grove of young aspens which blocked the +mouth of a small cañon by the thickness of the growth. + +"Do you see any way in?" Beulah asked her companion. + +"No. The trees are like a wall. There is not an open foot by which +one could enter." + +"Isn't there?" She laughed. "There's a way in just the same. You see +that big rock over to the left. A trail drops down into the aspens +back of it. A man lives in the gulch, an ex-convict. His name is Dan +Meldrum." + +"I expect he isn't troubled much with visitors."' + +"No. He lives alone. I don't like him. I wish he would move away. +He doesn't do the park any good." + +A man was sitting on the porch of the Tighe place as they drove up. +Beside him lay a pair of crutches. + +"That is Jess," the girl told Beaudry. "Don't mind if he is gruff or +bad-tempered. He is soured." + +But evidently this was not the morning for Tighe to be gruff. He came +to meet them on his crutches, a smile on his yellow, sapless face. +That smile seemed to Roy more deadly than anger. It did not warm the +cold, malignant eyes nor light the mordant face with pleasure. Only +the lips and mouth responded mechanically to it. + +"Glad to see you, Miss Beulah. Come in." + +He opened the gate and they entered. Presently Beaudry, his blood +beating fast, found himself shaking hands with Tighe. The man had an +odd trick of looking at one always from partly hooded eyes and at an +angle. + +"Mr. Street is selling windmills," explained Miss Rutherford. "Brad +Charlton said you were talking of buying one, so here is your chance." + +"Yes, I been thinking of it." Tighe's voice was suave. "What is your +proposition, Mr. Street?" + +Roy talked the Dynamo Aermotor for fifteen minutes. There was +something about the still look of this man that put him into a cold +sweat. + +It was all he could do to concentrate his attention on the patter of a +salesman, but he would not let his mind wander from the single track +upon which he was projecting it. He knew he was being watched closely. +To make a mistake might be fatal. + +"Sounds good. I'll look your literature over, Mr. Street. I suppose +you'll be in the park a few days?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you can come and see me again. I can't come to you so easy, +Mr.--er--" + +"Street," suggested Beulah. + +"That's right--Street. Well, you see I'm kinder tied down." He +indicated his crutches with a little lift of one hand. "Maybe Miss +Beulah will bring you again." + +"Suits me fine if she will," Beaudry agreed promptly. + +The half-hooded eyes of the cripple slid to the girl and back again to +Roy. He had a way of dry-washing the backs of his hands like Uriah +Heep. + +"Fine. You'll stay to dinner, now, of course. That's good. That's +good. Young folks don't know how it pleasures an old man to meet up +with them sometimes." His low voice was as smooth as oil. + +Beaudry conceived a horror of the man. The veiled sneer behind the +smile on the sapless face, the hooded hawk eyes, the almost servile +deference, held a sinister threat that chilled the spine of his guest. +The young man thought of him as of a repulsive spider spinning a web of +trouble that radiated from this porch all over the Big Creek country. + +"Been taking pictures of each other, I reckon. Fine. Fine. Now, I +wonder, Miss Beulah, if you'd do an old man a favor. This porch is my +home, as you might say, seeing as how I'm sorter held down here. I'd +kinder like a picture of it to hang up, providing it ain't asking too +much of you." + +"Of course not. I'll take it now," answered the girl. + +"That's right good of you. I'll jest sit here and be talking to Mr. +Street, as you might say. Wouldn't that make a good picture--kinder +liven up the porch if we're on it?" + +Roy felt a sudden impulse to protest, but he dared not yield to it. +What was it this man wanted of the picture? Why had he baited a trap +to get a picture of him without Beulah Rutherford knowing that he +particularly wanted it? While the girl took the photograph, his mind +was racing for Tighe's reason. + +"I'll send you a copy as soon as I print it, Mr. Tighe," promised +Beulah. + +"I'll sure set a heap of store by it, Miss Beulah. . . . If you don't +mind helping me set the table, we'll leave Mr. Street this old +newspaper for a few minutes whilst we fix up a snack. You'll excuse +us, Mr. Street? That's good." + +Beulah went into the house the same gay and light-hearted comrade of +Beaudry that she had been all morning. When he was called in to +dinner, he saw at once that Tighe had laid his spell upon her. She was +again the sullen, resentful girl of yesterday. Suspicion filmed her +eyes. The eager light of faith in him that had quickened them while +she listened for his answers to her naïve questions about the great +world was blotted out completely. + +She sat through dinner in cold silence. Tighe kept the ball of +conversation rolling and Beaudry tried to play up to him. They talked +of stock, crops, and politics. Occasionally the host diverted the talk +to outside topics. He asked the young man politely how he liked the +park, whether he intended to stay long, how long he had lived in New +Mexico, and other casual questions. + +Roy was glad when dinner was over. He drew a long breath of relief +when they had turned their backs upon the ranch. But his spirits did +not register normal even in the spring sunshine of the hills. For the +dark eyes that met his were clouded with doubt and resentment. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +Beulah Asks Questions + +A slim, wiry youth in high-heeled boots came out of the house with Brad +Charlton just as the buggy stopped at the porch of the horse ranch. He +nodded to Beulah. + +"'Lo, sis." + +"My brother Ned--Mr. Street." The girl introduced them a little +sulkily. + +Ned Rutherford offered Roy a coffee-brown hand and looked at him with +frank curiosity. He had just been hearing a lot about this +good-looking stranger who had dropped into the park. + +"See Jess Tighe? What did he say about the windmill?" asked Charlton. + +"Wanted to think it over," answered Beaudry. + +Beulah had drawn her brother to one side, but as Roy talked with +Charlton he heard what the other two said, though each spoke in a low +voice. + +"Where you going, Ned?" the sister asked. + +"Oh, huntin' strays." + +"Home to-night?" + +"Reckon not." + +"What deviltry are you and Brad up to now? This will be the third +night you've been away--and before that it was Jeff." + +"S-sh!" Ned flashed a warning look in the direction of her guest. + +But Beulah was angry. Tighe had warned her to be careful what she told +Street. She distrusted the cripple profoundly. Half the evil that +went on in the park was plotted by him. There had been a lot of +furtive whispering about the house for a week or more. Her instinct +told her that there was in the air some discreditable secret. More +than once she had wondered whether her people had been the express +company robbers for whom a reward was out. She tried to dismiss the +suspicion from her mind, for the fear of it was like a leaden weight at +her heart. But many little things contributed to the dread. +Rutherford had sent her just at that time to spend the week at Battle +Butte. Had it been to get her out of the way? She remembered that her +father had made to her no explanation of that scene in which she and +Dave Dingwell had played the leading parts. There had been many +journeyings back and forth on the part of the boys and Charlton and her +uncle, Buck Rutherford. They had a way of getting off into a corner of +the corral and talking low for hours at a time. And now Street had +come into the tangle. Were they watching him for fear he might be a +detective? + +Her resentment against him and them boiled over into swift wrath. +"You're a fine lot--all of you. I'd like to wash my hands clean of the +whole outfit." She turned on her heel and strode limping to the house. + +Ned laughed as he swung to the back of one of the two broncos waiting +with drooped heads before the porch. He admired this frank, forthright +sister who blazed so handsomely into rage. He would have fought for +her, even though he pretended to make a joke of her. + +"Boots sure goes some. You see what you may be letting yourself in +for, Brad," he scoffed good-naturedly. + +Charlton answered with cool aplomb. "Don't you worry about me, Ned. I +travel at a good lick myself. She'll break to double harness fine." + +Without touching the stirrup this knight of the _chaparreras_ flung +himself into the saddle, the rowels of his spurs whirring as he +vaulted. It was a spectacular but perfect mount. The horse was off +instantly at a canter. + +Roy could not deny the fellow admiration, even though he despised him +for what he had just said. It was impossible for him to be +contemptuous of Charlton. The man was too virile, too game for that. +In the telling Western phrase, he would go through. Whatever he did +was done competently. + +Yet there was something detestable in the way he had referred to Beulah +Rutherford. In the first place, Roy believed it to be a pure +assumption that he was going to marry her. Then, too, he had spoken of +this high-spirited girl as if she were a colt to be broken and he the +man to wield the whip. Her rebellion against fate meant nothing more +to him than a tantrum to be curbed. He did not in the least divine the +spiritual unrest back of her explosion. + +Beaudry shrugged his shoulders. He was lucky for once. It had been +the place of Ned Rutherford to rebuke Charlton for his slighting +remark. A stranger had not the least right to interfere while the +brother of the girl was present. Roy did not pursue the point any +further. He did not want to debate with himself whether he had the +pluck to throw down the gauntlet to this fighting _vaquero_ if the call +had come to him. + +As he walked into the house and up to his room, his mind was busy with +another problem. Where had Ned Rutherford been for three nights and +his brother Jeff before that? Why had Beulah flared into unexpected +anger? He, too, had glimpsed furtive whisperings. Even a fool would +have understood that he was not a welcome guest at the horse ranch, and +that his presence was tolerated only because here the boys could keep +an eye on him. He was under surveillance. That was plain. He had +started out for a little walk before breakfast and Jeff joined him from +nowhere in particular to stroll along. What was it the Huerfano Park +settlers were trying to hide from him? His mind jumped promptly to the +answer. Dave Dingwell, of course. + +Meanwhile Miss Rutherford lay weeping in the next room face down upon +the bed. She rarely indulged in tears. It had not happened before +since she was seventeen. But now she sobbed into a pillow, softly, so +that nobody might hear. Why must she spend her life in such +surroundings? If the books she read told the truth, the world was full +of gentle, kindly people who lived within the law and respected each +other's rights. Why was it in her horoscope to be an outcast? Why +must she look at everybody with bitterness and push friendship from her +lest it turn to poison at her touch? For one hour she had found joy in +comradeship with this stranger. Then Tighe had whispered it that he +was probably a spy. She had returned home only to have her doubts +about her own family stirred to life again. Were there no good, honest +folk in the world at all? + +She washed her telltale eyes and ventured downstairs to look after +supper. The Mexican cook was already peeling the potatoes. She gave +him directions about the meal and went out to the garden to get some +radishes and lettuce. On the way she had to pass the corral. Her +brother Hal, Slim Sanders, and Cherokee Street were roping and branding +some calves. The guest of the house had hung his coat and hat on a +fence-post to keep them from getting soiled, but the hat had fallen +into the dust. + +Beulah picked up the hat and brushed it. As she dusted with her +handkerchief the under side of the rim her eyes fell upon two initials +stamped into the sweat pad. The letters were "R.B." The owner of the +hat called himself Cherokee Street. Why, then, should he have these +other initials printed on the pad? There could be only one answer to +that question. He was passing under a name that was not his own. + +If so, why? Because he was a spy come to get evidence against her +people for the express company. + +The eyes of the girl blazed. The man had come to ruin her father, to +send her brothers to prison, and he was accepting their hospitality +while he moled for facts to convict them. To hear the shout of his gay +laughter as a calf upset him in the dust was added fuel to the fire of +her anger. If he had looked as villainous as Dave Meldrum, she could +have stood it better, but any one would have sworn that he was a clean, +decent young fellow just out of college. + +She called to him. Roy glanced up and came across the corral. His +sleeves were rolled to the elbows and the shirt open at the throat. +Flowing muscles rippled under the white skin of his forearms as he +vaulted the fence to stand beside her. He had the graceful poise of an +athlete and the beautiful, trim figure of youth. + +Yet he was a spy. Beulah hardened her heart. + +"I found your hat in the dust, Mr. Street." She held it out to him +upside down, the leather pad lifted by her finger so that the letters +stood out. + +The rigor of her eyes was a challenge. For a moment, before he caught +sight of the initials, he was puzzled at her stiffness. Then his heart +lost a beat and hammered wildly. His brain was in a fog and he could +find no words of explanation. + +"It is your hat, isn't it, Mr.--Street?" + +"Yes." He took it from her, put it on, and gulped "Thanks." + +She waited to give him a chance to justify himself, but he could find +no answer to the charge that she had fixed upon him. Scornfully she +turned from him and went to the house. + +Miss Rutherford found her father reading a week-old newspaper. + +"I've got fresher news than that for you, dad," she said. "I can tell +you who this man that calls himself Cherokee Street isn't." + +Rutherford looked up quickly. "You mean who he is, Boots." + +"No, I mean who he isn't. His name isn't Cherokee Street at all." + +"How do you know?" + +"Because he is wearing a hat with the initials 'R.B.' stamped in it. I +gave him a chance to explain and he only stammered and got white. He +hadn't time to think up a lie that would fit." + +"Dad burn it, Jess Tighe is right, then. The man is a spy." The +ranchman lit a cigar and narrowed his eyes in thought. + +"What is he spying here for?" + +"I reckon he's a detective of the express company nosing around about +that robbery. Some folks think it was pulled off by a bunch up in the +hills somewhere." + +"By the Rutherford gang?" she quoted. + +He looked at her uneasily. The bitterness in her voice put him on the +defensive. "Sho, Boots! That's just a way folks have of talking. +We've got our enemies. Lots of people hate us because we won't let any +one run over us." + +She stood straight and slender before him, her eyes fixed in his. "Do +they say we robbed the express company?" + +"They don't say it out loud if they do--not where I can hear them," he +answered grimly. + +"Did we?" she flung at him. + +His smile was forced. The question disturbed him. That had always +been her way, even when she was a small child, to fling herself +headlong at difficulties. She had never been the kind to be put off +with anything less than the truth. + +"I didn't. Did you?" he retorted. + +"How about the boys--and Uncle Buck--and Brad Charlton?" she demanded. + +"Better ask them if you want to know." With a flare of temper he +contradicted himself. "No, you'd better mind your own business, girl. +Forget your foolishness and 'tend to your knitting." + +"I suppose it isn't my business if my kin go to the penitentiary for +train robbery." + +"They're not going any such place. If you want to know, I give you my +word that none of us Rutherfords have got the gold stolen from the +Western Express Company." + +"And don't know where it is?" + +"Haven't the least idea--not one of us." + +She drew a deep breath of relief. More than once her father had kept +from her secrets of the family activities, but he had never lied to her. + +"Then it doesn't matter about this detective. He can find out nothing +against us," she reflected aloud. + +"I'm not so sure about that. We've had our troubles and we don't want +them aired. There was that shooting scrape Hal got into down at Battle +Butte, for instance. Get a little more evidence and the wrong kind of +a jury would send him up for it. No, we'll keep an eye on Mr. Cherokee +Street, or whatever his name is. Reckon I'll ride over and have a talk +with Jess about it." + +"Why not tell this man Street that he is not wanted and so be done with +it?" + +"Because we wouldn't be done with it. Another man would come in his +place. We'll keep him here where we can do a little detective work on +him, too." + +"I don't like it. The thing is underhanded. I hate the fellow. It's +not decent to sit at table with a man who is betraying our +hospitality," she cried hotly. + +"It won't be for long, honey. Just leave him to us. We'll hang up his +pelt to dry before we're through with him." + +"You don't mean--?" + +"No, nothing like that. But he'll crawl out of the park like a whipped +cur with its tail between its legs." + +The cook stood in the doorway. "Miss Beulah, do you want that meat +done in a pot roast?" he asked. + +"Yes. I'll show you." She turned at the door. "By the way, dad, I +took a snapshot of Mr. Tighe on his porch. I'll develop it to-night +and you can take it to him in the morning." + +"All right. Don't mention to anybody that matter we were discussing. +Act like you've forgotten all about what you found out, Boots." + +The girl nodded. "Yes." + + + + +Chapter IX + +The Man on the Bed + +Beulah Rutherford found it impossible to resume a relation of +friendliness toward her guest. By nature she was elemental and direct. +A few months earlier she had become the teacher of the Big Creek +school, but until that time life had never disciplined her to repress +the impulses of her heart. As a child she had been a fierce, wild +little creature full of savage affections and generosities. She still +retained more feminine ferocity than social usage permits her sex. It +was not in her to welcome an enemy with smiles while she hated him in +her soul. The best she could do was to hold herself to a brusque +civility whenever she met Beaudry. + +As for that young man, he was in a most unhappy frame of mind. He +writhed at the false position in which he found himself. It was bad +enough to forfeit the good opinion of this primitive young hill beauty, +but it was worse to know that in a measure he deserved it. He saw, +too, that serious consequences were likely to follow her discovery, and +he waited with nerves on the jump for the explosion. + +None came. When he dragged himself to dinner, Beulah was stiff as a +ramrod, but he could note no difference in the manner of the rest. Was +it possible she had not told her father? He did not think this likely, +and his heart was in panic all through the meal. + +Though he went to his room early, he spent a sleepless night full of +apprehension. What were the Rutherfords waiting for? He was convinced +that something sinister lay behind their silence. + +After breakfast the ranchman rode away. Jeff and Slim Sanders jogged +off on their cowponies to mend a broken bit of fence. Hal sat on the +porch replacing with rivets the torn strap of a stirrup. + +Beaudry could stand it no longer. He found his hostess digging around +the roots of some rosebushes in her small garden. Curtly she declined +his offer to take the spade. For a minute he watched her uneasily +before he blurted out his intention of going. + +"I'll move up to the other end of the park and talk windmill to the +ranchers there, Miss Rutherford. You've been awfully good to me, but I +won't impose myself on your hospitality any longer," he said. + +He had dreaded to make the announcement for fear of precipitating a +crisis, but the young woman made no protest. Without a word of comment +she walked beside him to the house. + +"Hal, will you get Mr. Street's horse?" she asked her brother. "He is +leaving this morning." + +Young Rutherford's eyes narrowed. It was plain that he had been caught +by surprise and did not know what to do. + +"Where you going?" he asked. + +"What do you care where he is going? Get the horse--or I will," she +ordered imperiously. + +"I'm going to board at one of the ranches farther up the park," +explained Roy. + +"Better wait till dad comes home," suggested Hal. + +"No, I'll go now." Royal Beaudry spoke with the obstinacy of a timid +man who was afraid to postpone the decision. + +"No hurry, is there?" The black eyes of Rutherford fixed him steadily. + +His sister broke in impatiently. "Can't he go when he wants to, Hal? +Get Mr. Street's horse." She whirled on Beaudry scornfully. "That is +what you call yourself, isn't it--Street?" + +The unhappy youth murmured "Yes." + +"Let him get his own horse if he wants to hit the trail in such a +hurry," growled Hal sulkily. + +Beulah walked straight to the stable. Awkwardly Beaudry followed her +after a moment or two. The girl was leading his horse from the stall. + +"I'll saddle him, Miss Rutherford," he demurred, the blanket in his +hand. + +She looked at him a moment, dropped the bridle, and turned stiffly +away. He understood perfectly that she had been going to saddle the +horse to justify the surface hospitality of the Rutherfords to a man +they despised. + +Hal was still on the porch when Roy rode up, but Beulah was nowhere in +sight. The young hillman did not look up from the rivet he was +driving. Beaudry swung to the ground and came forward. + +"I'm leaving now. I should like to tell Miss Rutherford how much I'm +in her debt for taking a stranger in so kindly," he faltered. + +"I reckon you took her in just as much as she did you, Mr. Spy." +Rutherford glowered at him menacingly. "I'd advise you to straddle +that horse and git." + +Roy controlled his agitation except for a slight trembling of the +fingers that grasped the mane of his cowpony. "You've used a word that +isn't fair. I didn't come here to harm any of your people. If I could +explain to Miss Rutherford--" + +She stood in the doorway, darkly contemptuous. Fire flashed in her +eyes, but the voice of the girl was coldly insolent. + +"It is not necessary," she informed him. + +Her brother leaned forward a little. His crouched body looked like a +coiled spring in its tenseness. "Explain yourself down that road, Mr. +Street--_pronto_," he advised. + +Beaudry flashed a startled glance at him, swung to the saddle, and was +away at a canter. The look in Rutherford's glittering eyes had sent a +flare of fear over him. The impulse of it had lifted him to the back +of the horse and out of the danger zone. + +But already he was flogging himself with his own contempt. He had +given way to panic before a girl who had been brought up to despise a +quitter. She herself had nerves as steady as chilled steel. He had +seen her clench her strong white little teeth without a murmur through +a long afternoon of pain. Gameness was one of the fundamentals of her +creed, and he had showed the white feather. It added to his +punishment, too, that he worshiped pluck with all the fervor of one who +knew he had none. Courage seemed to him the one virtue worth while; +cowardice the unpardonable sin. He made no excuses for himself. From +his father he inherited the fine tradition of standing up to punishment +to a fighting finish. His mother, too, had been a thoroughbred. Yet +he was a weakling. His heart pumped water instead of blood whenever +the call to action came. + +In dejection he rode up the valley, following the same hilly trail he +had taken two days before with Miss Rutherford. It took him past the +aspen grove at the mouth of the gulch which led to the Meldrum place. +Beyond this a few hundred yards he left the main road and went through +the chaparral toward a small ranch that nestled close to the timber. +Beulah had told him that it belonged to an old German named Rothgerber +who had lived there with his wife ever since she could remember. + +Rothgerber was a little wrinkled old man with a strong South-German +accent. After Beaudry had explained that he wanted board, the rancher +called his wife out and the two jabbered away excitedly in their native +tongue. The upshot of it was that they agreed to take the windmill +agent if he would room in an old bunkhouse about two hundred yards from +the main ranch building. This happened to suit Roy exactly and he +closed the matter by paying for a week in advance. + +The Rothgerbers were simple, unsuspecting people of a garrulous nature. +It was easy for Beaudry to pump information from them while he ate +supper. They had seen nothing of any stranger in the valley except +himself, but they dropped casually the news that the Rutherfords had +been going in and out of Chicito Cañon a good deal during the past few +days. + +"Chicito Cañon. That's a Mexican name, isn't it? Let's see. Just +where is this gulch?" asked Beaudry. + +The old German pointed out of the window. "There it iss, mein friend. +You pass by on the road and there iss no way in--no arroyo, no gulch, +no noddings but aspens. But there iss, shust the same, a trail. +Through my pasture it leads." + +"Anybody live up Chicito? I want everybody in the park to get a chance +to buy a Dynamo Aermotor before I leave." + +"A man named Meldrum. My advice iss--let him alone." + +"Why?" + +Rothgerber shook a pudgy forefinger in the air. "Mein friend--listen. +You are a stranger in Huerfano Park. Gut. But do not ask questions +about those who lif here. Me, I am an honest man. I keep the law. +Also I mind my own pusiness. So it iss with many. But there are +others--mind, I gif them no names, but--" He shrugged his shoulders +and threw out his hands, palm up. "Well, the less said the petter. If +I keep my tongue still, I do not talk myself into trouble. Not so, +Berta?" + +The pippin-cheeked little woman nodded her head sagely. + +In the course of the next few days Roy rode to and fro over the park +trying to sell his windmill to the ranchers. He secured two orders and +the tentative promise of others. But he gained no clue as to the place +where Dingwell was hidden. His intuition told him that the trail up +Chicito Cañon would lead him to the captive cattleman. Twice he +skirted the dark gash of the ravine at the back of the pasture, but +each time his heart failed at the plunge into its unknown dangers. The +first time he persuaded himself that he had better make the attempt at +night, but when he stood on the brink in the darkness the gulf at his +feet looked like a veritable descent into Avernus. If he should be +caught down here, his fate would be sealed. What Meldrum and Tighe +would do to a spy was not a matter of conjecture. The thought of it +brought goose-quills to his flesh and tiny beads of perspiration to his +forehead. + +Still, the peril had to be faced. He decided to go up the cañon in the +early morning before the travel of the day had begun. The night before +he made the venture he prepared an alibi by telling Mrs. Rothgerber +that he would not come to breakfast, as he wanted to get an early start +for his canvassing. The little German woman bustled about and wrapped +up for him a cold lunch to eat at his cabin in the morning. She liked +this quiet, good-looking young man whose smile was warm for a woman +almost old enough to be his grandmother. It was not often she met any +one with the charming deference he showed her. Somehow he reminded her +of her own Hans, who had died from the kick of a horse ten years since. + +Roy slept in broken cat-naps full of fearful dreams, from which he woke +in terror under the impression that he was struggling helplessly in the +net of a great spider which had the cruel, bloodless face of Tighe. It +was three o'clock when he rose and began to dress. He slipped out of +the cabin into the wet pasture. His legs were sopping wet from the +long grass through which he strode to the edge of the gulch. On a flat +boulder he sat shivering in the darkness while he waited for the first +gray streaks of light to sift into the dun sky. + +In the dim dawn he stumbled uncertainly down the trail into the cañon, +the bottom of which was still black as night from a heavy growth of +young aspens that shut out the light. There was a fairly well-worn +path leading up the gulch, so that he could grope his way forward +slowly. His feet moved reluctantly. It seemed to him that his nerves, +his brain, and even his muscles were in revolt against the moral +compulsion that drove him on. He could feel his heart beating against +his ribs. Every sound startled him. The still darkness took him by +the throat. Doggedly he fought against the panic impulse to turn and +fly. + +If he quit now, he told himself, he could never hold his self-respect. +He thought of all those who had come into his life in connection with +the Big Creek country trouble. His father, his mother, Dave Dingwell, +Pat Ryan, Jess Tighe, the whole Rutherford clan, including Beulah! One +quality they all had in common, the gameness to see out to a finish +anything they undertook. He could not go through life a confessed +coward. The idea was intolerably humiliating. + +Then, out of the past, came to him a snatch of nonsense verse:-- + + "Li'l' ole hawss an' li'l' ole cow, + Amblin' along by the ole haymow, + Li'l' ole hawss took a bite an' a chew, + 'Durned if I don't,' says the ole cow, too." + +So vivid was his impression of the doggerel that for an instant he +thought he heard the sing-song of his father's tuneless voice. In +sharp, clean-cut pictures his memory reproduced the night John Beaudry +had last chanted the lullaby and that other picture of the Homeric +fight of one man against a dozen. The foolish words were a bracer to +him. He set his teeth and ploughed forward, still with a quaking soul, +but with a kind of despairing resolution. + +After a mile of stiff going, the gulch opened to a little valley on the +right-hand side. On the edge of a pine grove, hardly a stone's throw +from where Roy stood, a Mexican _jacal_ looked down into the cañon. +The hut was a large one. It was built of upright poles daubed with +clay. Sloping poles formed the roof, the chinks of which were +waterproofed with grass. A wolf pelt, nailed to the wall, was hanging +up to dry. + +He knew that this was the home of Meldrum, the ex-convict. + +Beaudry followed a bed of boulders that straggled toward the pine +grove. It was light enough now, and he had to move with caution so as +to take advantage of all the cover he could find. Once in the grove, +he crawled from tree to tree. The distance from the nearest pine to +the jacal was about thirty feet. A clump of _cholla_ grew thick just +outside the window. Roy crouched behind the trunk for several minutes +before he could bring himself to take the chance of covering that last +ten yards. But every minute it was getting lighter. Every minute +increased the likelihood of detection. He crept fearfully to the hut, +huddled behind the cactus, and looked into the window. + +A heavy-set man, with the muscle-bound shoulders of an ape, was +lighting a fire in the stove. At the table, his thumbs hitched in a +sagging revolver belt, sat Ned Rutherford. The third person in the +room lay stretched at supple ease on a bed to one of the posts of which +his right leg was bound. He was reading a newspaper. + +"Get a move on you, Meldrum," young Rutherford said jauntily, with an +eye on his prisoner to see how he took it. "I've got inside +information that I need some hot cakes, a few slices of bacon, and a +cup of coffee. How about it, Dave? Won't you order breakfast, too?" + +The man on the bed shook his head indifferently. "Me, I'm taking the +fast cure. I been reading that we all eat too much, anyhow. What's +the use of stuffing--gets yore system all clogged up. Now, take +Edison--he don't eat but a handful of rice a day." + +"That's one handful more than you been eating for the past three days. +Better come through with what we want to know. This thing ain't going +to get any better for you. A man has got to eat to live." + +"I'm trying out another theory. Tell you-all about how it works in a +week or so. I reckon after a time I'll get real hungry, but it don't +seem like I could relish any chuck yet." The cattleman fell to +perusing his paper once more. + +Royal Beaudry had never met his father's friend, Dave Dingwell, but he +needed no introduction to this brown-faced man who mocked his guard +with such smiling hardihood. They were trying to starve the secret out +of him. Already his cheek showed thin and gaunt, dark circles shadowed +the eyes. The man, no doubt, was suffering greatly, yet his manner +gave no sign of it. He might not be master of his fate; at least, he +was very much the captain of his soul. Pat Ryan had described him in a +sentence. "One hundred and ninety pounds of divil, and ivery ounce of +ivery pound true gold." There could not be another man in the Big +Creek country that this description fitted as well as it did this +starving, jocund dare-devil on the bed. + +The savory odor of bacon and of coffee came through the open window to +Beaudry where he crouched in the chaparral. He heard Meldrum's brusque +"Come and get it," and the sound of the two men drawing up their chairs +to the table. + +"What's the use of being obstinate, Dave?" presently asked Rutherford +from amid a pleasant chink of tin cups, knives, and forks. "I'd a heap +rather treat you like a white man. This 'Pache business doesn't make a +hit with me. But I'm obeying orders. Anyhow, it's up to you. The +chuck-wagon is ready for you whenever you say the word." + +"I don't reckon I'll say it, Ned. Eating is just a habit. One man +wants his eggs sunny side up; another is strong for them hard-boiled. +But eggs is eggs. When Dan went visitin' at Santa Fe, he likely +changed his diet. For two or three days he probably didn't like the +grub, then--" + +With a raucous curse the former convict swung round on him. A revolver +seemed to jump to his hand, but before he could fire, young Rutherford +was hanging to his wrist. + +"Don't you, Dan. Don't you," warned Ned. + +Slowly Meldrum's eyes lost their savage glare. "One o' these days I'll +pump lead into him unless he clamps that mouth of his'n. I won't stand +for it." His voice trailed into a string of oaths. + +Apparently his host's fury at this reference to his convict days did +not disturb in the least the man on the bed. His good-natured drawl +grew slightly more pronounced. "Wall yore eyes and wave yore tail all +you've a mind to, Dan. I was certainly some indiscreet reminding you +of those days when you was a guest of the Government." + +"That's enough," growled Meldrum, slamming his big fist down on the +table so that the tinware jumped. + +"Sure it's enough. Too much. Howcome I to be so forgetful? If I'd +wore a uniform two years for rustling other folks' calves, I reckon I +wouldn't thank a guy--" + +But Meldrum had heard all he could stand. He had to do murder or get +out. He slammed the coffee-pot down on the floor and bolted out of the +open door. His arms whirled in violent gestures as he strode away. An +unbroken stream of profanity floated back to mark his anabasis. + +Meldrum did not once look round as he went on his explosive way to the +gulch, but Roy Beaudry crouched lower behind the cactus until the man +had disappeared. Then he crawled back to the grove, slipped through +it, and crept to the shelter of the boulder bed. + +It would not do for him to return down the cañon during daylight, for +fear he might meet one of the Rutherfords coming to relieve Ned. He +passed from one boulder to another, always working up toward the wall +of the gulch. Behind a big piece of sandstone shaped like a flatiron +he lay down and waited for the hours to pass. + +It was twilight when he stole down to the trail and began his return +journey. + + + + +Chapter X + +Dave Takes a Ride + +Dave Dingwell had sauntered carelessly out of the Legal Tender on the +night of his disappearance. He was apparently at perfect ease with a +friendly world. But if any one had happened to follow him out of the +saloon, he would have seen an odd change in the ranchman. He slid +swiftly along the wall of the building until he had melted into the +shadows of darkness. His eyes searched the neighborhood for lurking +figures while he crouched behind the trunk of a cottonwood. Every +nerve of the man was alert, every muscle ready for action. One brown +hand lingered affectionately close to the butt of his revolver. + +He had come out of the front door of the gambling-house because he knew +the Rutherfords would expect him, in the exercise of ordinary common +sense, to leave by the rear exit. That he would be watched was +certain. Therefore, he had done the unexpected and walked boldly out +through the swinging doors. + +As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he made out a horse in +the clump of trees about twenty yards to the left. Whether it was +Teddy he could not be sure, but there was no time to lose. Already a +signal whistle had shrilled out from the other side of the street. +Dave knew this was to warn the guards at the rear of the Legal Tender +that their prey was in the open. + +He made a dash for the tree clump, but almost as he reached it, he +swung to the left and circled the small grove so as to enter it from +the other side. As he expected, a man whirled to meet him. The +unforeseen tactics of Dingwell had interfered with the ambush. + +Dave catapulted into him head first and the two went down together. +Before Dingwell could grip the throat of the man beneath him, a second +body hurled itself through space at the cattleman. The attacked man +flattened under the weight crushing him, but his right arm swept around +and embraced the neck of his second assailant. He flexed his powerful +forearm so as to crush as in a vice the throat of his foe between it +and the hard biceps. The breath of the first man had for the moment +been knocked out of him and he was temporarily not in the fight. The +ranchman gave his full attention to the other. + +The fellow struggled savagely. He had a gun in his right hand, but the +fingers of Dave's left had closed upon the wrist above. Stertorous +breathing gave testimony that the gunman was in trouble. In spite of +his efforts to break the hold that kept his head in chancery, the +muscles of the arm tightened round his neck like steel ropes drawn +taut. He groaned, sighed in a ragged expulsion of breath, and suddenly +collapsed. + +Before he relaxed his muscles, Dingwell made sure that the surrender +was a genuine one. His left hand slid down and removed the revolver +from the nerveless fingers. The barrel of it was jammed against the +head of the man above him while the rancher freed himself from the +weight of the body. Slowly the cattleman got to his feet. + +Vaguely he had been aware already that men were running toward the tree +clump. Now he heard the padding of their feet close at hand. He ran +to the horse and flung himself into the saddle, but before the animal +had moved two steps some one had it by the bridle. Another man caught +Dingwell by the arm and dragged him from the saddle. Before Dave could +scramble to his feet again, something heavy fell upon his head and +shook him to the heels. A thousand lights flashed in zigzags before +his eyes. He sank back into unconsciousness. + +The cowman returned to a world of darkness out of which voices came as +from a distance hazily. A groan prefaced his arrival. + +"Dave's waking up," one of the far voices said. + +"Sure. When you tap his haid with a six-gun, you're liable to need +repairs on the gun," a second answered. + +The next words came to Dingwell more distinctly. He recognized the +speaker as Hal Rutherford of the horse ranch. + +"Too bad the boy had to hand you that crack, Dave. You're such a bear +for fighting a man can't take any chances. Glad he didn't bust your +haid wide open." + +"Sure he didn't?" asked the injured man. "I feel like I got to hold it +on tight so as to keep the blamed thing from flying into fifty pieces." + +"Sorry. We'll take you to a doc and have it fixed up. Then we'll all +go have a drunk. That'll fix you." + +"Business first," cut in Buck Rutherford. + +"That's right, Dave," agreed the owner of the horse ranch. "How about +that gunnysack? Where did you hide it?" + +Dingwell played for time. He had not the least intention of telling, +but if he held the enemy in parley some of his friends might pass that +way. + +"What gunnysack, Hal? Jee-rusalem, how my head aches!" He held his +hands to his temples and groaned again. + +"Your head will mend--if we don't have to give it another crack," Buck +told him grimly. "Get busy, Dave. We want that gold--_pronto_. Where +did you put it?" + +"Where _did_ I put it? That willing lad of yours has plumb knocked the +answer out of my noodle. Maybe you're thinking of some one else, +Buck." Dingwell looked up at him with an innocent, bland smile. + +"Come through," ordered Buck with an oath. + +The cattleman treated them to another dismal groan. "Gee! I feel like +the day after Christmas. Was it a cannon the kid hit me with?" + +Meldrum pushed his ugly phiz to the front. "Don't monkey away any +time, boys. String him to one of these cottonwoods till he spits out +what we want." + +"Was it while you was visiting up at Santa Fe you learnt that habit of +seeing yore neighbors hanged, Dan?" drawled Dingwell in a voice of +gentle irony. + +Furious at this cool reference to his penitentiary days, Meldrum kicked +their captive in the ribs. Hal Rutherford, his eyes blazing, caught +the former convict by the throat. + +"Do that again and I'll hang yore hide up to dry." He shook Meldrum as +if he were a child, then flung the gasping man away. "I'll show you +who's boss of this _rodeo_, by gum!" + +Meldrum had several notches on his gun. He was, too, a +rough-and-tumble fighter with his hands. But Hal Rutherford was one +man he knew better than to tackle. He fell back, growling threats in +his throat. + +Meanwhile Dave was making discoveries. One was that the first two men +who had attacked him were the gamblers he had driven from the Legal +Tender earlier in the evening. The next was that Buck Rutherford was +sending the professional tinhorns about their business. + +"Git!" ordered the big rancher. "And keep gitting till you've crossed +the border. Don't look back any. Jest burn the wind. _Adios_." + +"They meant to gun you, Dave," guessed the owner of the horse ranch. +"I reckon they daren't shoot with me loafing there across the road. +You kinder disarranged their plans some more by dropping in at their +back door. Looks like you'd 'a' rumpled up their hair a few if you +hadn't been in such a hurry to make a get-away. Which brings us back +to the previous question. The unanimous sense of the meeting is that +you come through with some information, Dave. Where is that gunnysack?" + +Dave, still sitting on the ground, leaned his back against a tree and +grinned amiably at his questioner. "Sounds like you-all been to school +to a parrot. You must 'a' quituated after you learned one sentence." + +"We're waiting for an answer, Dave." + +The cool, steady eyes of Dingwell met the imperious ones of the other +man in a long even gaze. "Nothing doing, Hal." + +"Even split, Dave. Fifty-fifty." + +The sitting man shook his head. "I'll split the reward with you when I +get it. The sack goes back to the express company." + +"We'll see about that." Rutherford turned to his son and gave brisk +orders. "Bring up the horses. We'll get out of here. You ride with +me, Jeff. We'll take care of Dingwell. The rest of you scatter. +We're going back to the park." + +The Rutherfords and their captive followed no main road, but cut across +country in a direction where they would be less likely to meet +travelers. It was a land of mesquite and prickly pear. The sting of +the cactus bit home in the darkness as its claws clutched at the riders +winding their slow way through the chaparral. + +Gray day was dawning when they crossed the Creosote Flats and were seen +by a sheep-herder at a distance. The sun was high in the heavens +before they reached the defile which served as a gateway between the +foothills and the range beyond. It had passed the meridian by the time +they were among the summits where they could look back upon rounded +hills numberless as the billows of a sea. Deeper and always deeper +they plunged into the maze of cañons which gashed into the saddles +between the peaks. Blue-tinted dusk was enveloping the hills as they +dropped down through a wooded ravine into Huerfano Park. + +"Home soon," Dave suggested cheerfully to his captors. "I sure am +hungry enough to eat a government mailsack. A flank steak would make a +big hit with me." + +Jeff looked at him in the dour, black Rutherford way. "This is no +picnic, you'll find." + +"Not to you, but it's a great vacation for me. I feel a hundred per +cent better since I got up into all this ozone and scenery." Dingwell +assured him hardily. "A man ought to take a trip like this every once +in a while. It's great for what ails him." + +Young Rutherford grunted sulkily. Their prisoner was the coolest +customer he had ever met. The man was no fool. He must know he was in +peril, but his debonair, smiling _insouciance_ never left him for a +moment. He was grit clear through. + + + + +Chapter XI + +Tighe Weaves his Web Tighter + +The hooded eyes of Jess Tighe slanted across the table at his visitor. +Not humor but mordant irony had given birth to the sardonic smile on +his thin, bloodless lips. + +"I reckon you'll be glad to know that you've been entertaining an angel +unawares, Hal," he jeered. "I've been looking up your handsome young +friend, and I can tell you what the 'R.B.' in his hat stands for in +case you would be interested to know." + +The owner of the horse ranch gave a little nod. "Unload your +information, Jess." + +Tighe leaned forward for emphasis and bared his teeth. If ever +malevolent hate was written on a face it found expression on his now. + +"'R.B.' stands for Royal Beaudry." + +Rutherford flashed a question at him from startled eyes. He waited for +the other man to continue. + +"You remember the day we put John Beaudry out of business?" asked Tighe. + +"Yes. Go on." Hal Rutherford was not proud of that episode. In the +main he had fought fair, even though he had been outside the law. But +on the day he had avenged the death of his brother Anson, the feud +between him and the sheriff had degenerated to murder. A hundred times +since he had wished that he had gone to meet the officer alone. + +"He had his kid with him. Afterward they shipped him out of the +country to an aunt in Denver. He went to school there. Well, I've had +a little sleuthing done." + +"And you've found out--?" + +"What I've told you." + +"How?" + +"He said his name was Cherokee Street, but Jeff told me he didn't act +like he believed himself. When yore girl remembered there was a street +of that name in Denver, Mr. Cherokee Street was plumb rattled. He seen +he'd made a break. Well, you saw that snapshot Beulah took of him and +me on the porch. I sent it to a detective agency in Denver with orders +to find out the name of the man that photo fitted. My idea was for the +manager to send a man to the teachers of the high schools, beginning +with the school nearest Cherokee Street. He done it. The third +schoolmarm took one look at the picture and said the young fellow was +Royal Beaudry. She had taught him German two years. That's howcome I +to know what that 'R.B.' in the hat stands for." + +"Perhaps it is some other Beaudry." + +"Take another guess," retorted the cripple scornfully. "Right off when +I clapped eyes on him, I knew he reminded me of somebody. I know now +who it was." + +"But what's he doing up here?" asked the big man. + +The hawk eyes of Tighe glittered. "What do you reckon the son of John +Beaudry would be doing here?" He answered his own question with bitter +animosity. "He's gathering evidence to send Hal Rutherford and Jess +Tighe to the penitentiary. That's what he's doing." + +Rutherford nodded. "Sure. What else would he be doing if he is a chip +of the old block? That's where his father's son ought to put us if he +can." + +Tighe beat his fist on the table, his face a map of appalling fury and +hate. "Let him go to it, then. I've been a cripple seventeen years +because Beaudry shot me up. By God! I'll gun his son inside of +twenty-four hours. I'll stomp him off'n the map like he was a +rattlesnake." + +"No," vetoed Rutherford curtly. + +"What! What's that you say?" snarled the other. + +"I say he'll get a run for his money. If there's any killing to be +done, it will be in fair fight." + +"What's ailing you?" sneered Tighe. "Getting soft in your upper story? +Mean to lie down and let that kid run you through to the pen like his +father did Dan Meldrum?" + +"Not in a thousand years," came back Rutherford. "If he wants war, he +gets it. But I'll not stand for any killing from ambush, and no +killing of any kind unless it has to be. Understand?" + +"That sounds to me," purred the smaller man in the Western slang that +phrased incredulity. Then, suddenly, he foamed at the mouth. "Keep +out of this if you're squeamish. Let me play out the hand. I'll bump +him off _pronto_." + +"No, Jess." + +"What do you think I am?" screamed Tighe. "Seventeen years I've been +hog-tied to this house because of Beaudry. Think I'm going to miss my +chance now? If he was Moody and Sankey rolled into one, I'd go through +with it. And what is he--a spy come up here to gather evidence against +you and me! Didn't he creep into your house so as to sell you out when +he got the goods? Hasn't he lied from start to finish?" + +"Maybe so. But he has no proof against us yet. We'll kick him out of +the park. I'm not going to have his blood on my conscience. That's +flat, Jess." + +The eyes in the bloodless face of the other man glittered, but he put a +curb on his passion. "What about me, Hal? I've waited half a lifetime +and now my chance has come. Have you forgot who made me the misshaped +thing I am? I haven't. I'll go through hell to fix Beaudry's cub the +way he did me." His voice shook from the bitter intensity of his +feeling. + +Rutherford paced up and down the room in a stress of sentiency. "No, +Jess. I know just how you feel, but I'm going to give this kid his +chance. We gunned Beaudry because he wouldn't let us alone. Either he +or a lot of us had to go. But I'll say this. I never was satisfied +with the way we did it. When Jack Beaudry shot you up, he was fighting +for his life. We attacked him. You got no right to hold it against +his son." + +"I don't ask you to come in. I'll fix his clock all right." + +"Nothing doing. I won't have it." Rutherford, by a stroke of +strategy, carried the war into the country of the other. "I gave way +to you about Dingwell, though I hated to try that Indian stuff on him. +He's a white man. I've always liked him. It's a rotten business." + +"What else can you do? We daren't turn him loose. You don't want to +gun him. There is nothing left but to tighten the thumbscrews." + +"It won't do any good," protested the big man with a frown. "He's +game. He'll go through. . . . And if it comes to a showdown, I won't +have him starved to death." + +Tighe looked at him through half-hooded, cruel eyes. "He'll weaken. +Another day or two will do it. Don't worry about Dingwell." + +"There's not a yellow streak in him. You haven't a chance to make him +quit." Rutherford took another turn up and down the room diagonally. +"I don't like this way of fighting. It's--damnable, man! I won't have +any harm come to Dave or to the kid either. I stand pat on that, Jess." + +The man with the crutches swallowed hard. His Adam's apple moved up +and down like an agitated thermometer. When he spoke it was in a +smooth, oily voice of submission, but Rutherford noticed that the +rapacious eyes were hooded. + +"What you say goes, Hal. You're boss of this round-up. I was jest +telling you how it looked to me." + +"Sure. That's all right, Jess. But you want to remember that public +sentiment is against us. We've pretty near gone our limit up here. If +there was no other reason but that, it would be enough to make us let +this young fellow alone. We can't afford a killing in the park now." + +Tighe assented, almost with servility. But the cattleman carried away +with him a conviction that the man had yielded too easily, that his +restless brain would go on planning destruction for young Beaudry just +the same. + +He was on his way up Chicito Cañon and he stopped at Rothgerber's ranch +to see Beaudry. The young man was not at home. + +"He start early this morning to canfass for his vindmill," the old +German explained. + +After a moment's thought Rutherford left a message. "Tell him it isn't +safe for him to stay in the park; that certain parties know who 'R.B.' +is and will sure act on that information. Say I said for him to come +and see me as soon as he gets back. Understand? Right away when he +reaches here." + +The owner of the horse ranch left his mount in the Rothgerber corral +and passed through the pasture on foot to Chicito. Half an hour later +he dropped into the _jacal_ of Meldrum. + +He found the indomitable Dingwell again quizzing Meldrum about his +residence at Santa Fe during the days he wore a striped uniform. The +former convict was grinding his teeth with fury. + +"I reckon you won't meet many old friends when you go back this time, +Dan. Maybe there will be one or two old-timers that will know you, but +it won't be long before you make acquaintances," Dave consoled him. + +"Shut up, or I'll pump lead into you," he warned hoarsely. + +The cattleman on the bed shook his head. "You'd like to fill me full +of buckshot, but it wouldn't do at all, Dan. I'm the goose that lays +the golden eggs, in a way of speaking. Gun me, and it's good-bye to +that twenty thousand in the gunnysack." He turned cheerfully to +Rutherford, who was standing in the doorway. "Come right in, Hal. +Glad to see you. Make yourself at home." + +"He's deviling me all the time," Meldrum complained to the owner of the +horse ranch. "I ain't a-going to stand it." + +Rutherford looked at the prisoner, a lean, hard-bitten Westerner with +muscles like steel ropes and eyes unblinking as a New Mexico sun. His +engaging recklessness had long since won the liking of the leader of +the Huerfano Park outlaws. + +"Don't bank on that golden egg business, Dave," advised Rutherford. +"If you tempt the boys enough, they're liable to forget it. You've +been behaving mighty aggravating to Dan." + +"Me!" Dave opened his eyes in surprise. "I was just asking him how +he'd like to go back to Santa Fe after you-all turn me loose." + +"We're not going to turn you loose till we reach an agreement. What's +the use of being pigheaded? We're looking for that gold and we're +going to find it mighty soon. Now be reasonable." + +"How do you know you're going to find it?" + +"Because we know you couldn't have taken it far. Here's the point. +You had it when Fox made his getaway. Beulah was right behind you, so +we know you didn't get a chance to bury it between there and town. We +covered your tracks and you didn't leave the road in that half-mile. +That brings you as far as Battle Butte. You had the gunnysack when you +crossed the bridge. You didn't have it when Slim Sanders met you. So +you must have got rid of it in that distance of less than a quarter of +a mile. First off, I figured you dropped the sack in Hague's alfalfa +field. But we've tramped that all over. It's not there. Did you meet +some one and give it to him? Or how did you get rid of it?" + +"I ate it," grinned Dingwell confidentially. + +"The boys are getting impatient, Dave. They don't like the way you +butted in." + +"That's all right. You're responsible for my safety, Hal. I'll let +you do the worrying." + +"Don't fool yourself. We can't keep you here forever. We can't let +you go without an agreement. Figure out for yourself what's likely to +happen?" + +"Either my friends will rescue me, or else I'll escape." + +"Forget it. Not a chance of either." Rutherford stopped, struck by an +idea. "Ever hear of a young fellow called Cherokee Street?" + +"No. Think not. Is he a breed?" + +"White man." Rutherford took a chair close to Dingwell. He leaned +forward and asked another question in a low voice. "Never happened to +meet the son of John Beaudry, did you?" + +Dingwell looked at him steadily out of narrowed eyes. "I don't get +you, Hal. What has he got to do with it?" + +"Thought maybe you could tell me that. He's in the park now." + +"In the park?" + +"Yes--and Jess Tighe knows it." + +"What's he doing here?" + +But even as he asked the other man, Dingwell guessed the answer. Not +an hour before he had caught a glimpse of a white, strained face at the +window. He knew now whose face it was. + +"He's spying on us and sleuthing for evidence to send us to the pen. +Think he'd be a good risk for an insurance company?" + +Dave thought fast. "I don't reckon you're right. I put the kid +through law school. My friends have likely sent him up here to look +for me." + +Rutherford scoffed. "Nothing to that. How could they know you are +here? We didn't advertise it." + +"No-o, but--" Dingwell surrendered the point reluctantly. He flashed +a question at Rutherford. "Tighe will murder him. That's sure. You +going to let him?" + +"Not if I can help it. I'm going to send young Beaudry out of the +park." + +"Fine. Don't lose any time about it, Hal." + +The Huerfano Park rancher made one more attempt to shake his prisoner. +His dark eyes looked straight into those of Dingwell. + +"Old-timer, what about you? I ain't enjoying this any more than you +are. But it's clear out of my hands." + +"Then why worry?" asked Dingwell, a little grin on his drawn face. + +"Hell! What's the use of asking that? I'm no Injun devil," barked +Rutherford irritably. + +"Turn me loose and I'll forget all I've seen. I won't give you the +loot, but I'll not be a witness against you." + +The Huerfano Park ranchman shook his head. "No, we want that gold, +Dave. You butted into our game and we won't stand for that." + +"I reckon we can't make a deal, Hal." + +The haggard eyes of the starving man were hard as tungsten-washed +steel. They did not yield a jot. + +A troubled frown dragged together the shaggy eyebrows of Rutherford as +he snapped out his ultimatum. + +"I like you, Dave. Always have. But you're in one hell of a hole. +Don't feed yourself any fairy tales. Your number is chalked up, my +friend. Unless you come through with what we want, you'll never leave +here alive. I can't save you. There's only one man can--and that is +your friend David Dingwell." + +The other man did not bat an eyelid. "Trying to pass the buck, Hal? +You can't get away with it--not for a minute." A gay little smile of +derision touched his face. "I'm in your hands completely. I'll not +tell you a damn thing. What are you going to do about it? No, don't +tell me that Meldrum and Tighe will do what has to be done. You're the +high mogul here. If they kill me, Hal Rutherford will be my murderer. +Don't forget that for a second." + +Rutherford carried home with him a heavy heart. He could see no way +out of the difficulty. He knew that neither Meldrum nor Tighe would +consent to let Dingwell go unless an agreement was first reached. +There was, too, the other tangle involving young Beaudry. Perhaps he +also would be obstinate and refuse to follow the reasonable course. + +Beulah met him on the road. Before they had ridden a hundred yards, +her instinct told her that he was troubled. + +"What is it, dad?" she asked. + +He compromised with himself and told her part of what was worrying him. +"It's about your friend Street. Jess had him looked up in Denver. The +fellow turns out to be a Royal Beaudry. You've heard of a sheriff of +that name who used to live in this country? . . . Well, this is his +son." + +"What's he doing here?" + +"Trying to get us into trouble, I reckon. But that ain't the point. +I'm not worrying about what he can find out. Fact is that Tighe is +revengeful. This boy's father crippled him. He wants to get even on +the young fellow. Unless Beaudry leaves the park at once, he'll never +go. I left word at Rothgerber's for him to come down and see me soon +as he gets home." + +"Will he come?" she asked anxiously. + +"I don't know. If not I'll go up and fetch him. I don't trust Jess a +bit. He'll strike soon and hard." + +"Don't let him, dad," the girl implored. + +The distressed eyes of the father rested on her. "You like this young +fellow, honey?" he asked. + +She flamed. "I hate him. He abused our hospitality. He lied to us +and spied on us. I wouldn't breathe the same air he does if I could +help it. But we can't let him be killed in cold blood." + +"That's right, Boots. Well, he'll come down to-day and I'll pack him +back to Battle Butte. Then we'll be shet of him." + +Beulah passed the hours in a fever of impatience. She could not keep +her mind on the children she was teaching. She knew Tighe. The +decision of her father to send Beaudry away would spur the cripple to +swift activity. Up at Rothgerber's Jess could corner the man and work +his vengeance unhampered. Why did not the spy come down to the horse +ranch? Was it possible that his pride would make him neglect the +warning her father had left? Perhaps he would think it only a trap to +catch him. + +Supper followed dinner, and still Beaudry had not arrived. From the +porch Beulah peered up the road into the gathering darkness. Her +father had been called away. Her brothers were not at home. The girl +could stand it no longer. She went to the stable and saddled Blacky. + +Five minutes later she was flying up the road that led to the +Rothgerber place. + + + + +Chapter XII + +Stark Fear + +When Beaudry climbed the cañon wall to the Rothgerber pasture he +breathed a deep sigh of relief. For many hours he had been under a +heavy strain, nerves taut as fiddle-strings. Fifty times his heart had +jumped with terror. But he had done the thing he had set out to do. + +He had stiffened his flaccid will and spurred his trembling body +forward. If he had been unable to control his fear, at least he had +not let it master him. He had found out for Ryan where Dingwell was +held prisoner. It had been his intention to leave the park as soon as +he knew this, report the facts to the friends of Dave, and let them +devise a way of escape. He had done his full share. But he could not +follow this course now. + +The need of the cattleman was urgent. Somehow it must be met at once. +Yet what could he do against two armed men who would not hesitate to +shoot him down if necessary? There must be some way of saving Dingwell +if he could only find it. + +In spite of his anxiety, a fine spiritual exaltation flooded him. So +far he had stood the acid test, had come through without dishonor. He +might be a coward; at least, he was not a quitter. Plenty of men would +have done his day's work without a tremor. What brought comfort to +Roy's soul was that he had been able to do it at all. + +Mrs. Rothgerber greeted him with exclamations of delight. The message +of Rutherford had frightened her even though she did not entirely +understand it. + +"Hermann iss out looking for you. Mr. Rutherford--the one that owns +the horse ranch--he wass here and left a message for you." + +"A message for me! What was it?" + +With many an "Ach!" she managed to tell him. + +The face of her boarder went white. Since Rutherford was warning him +against Tighe, the danger must be imminent. Should he go down to the +horse ranch now? Or had he better wait until it was quite dark? While +he was still debating this with himself, the old German came into the +house. + +"Home, eh? Gut, gut! They are already yet watching the road." + +Roy's throat choked. "Who?" + +This question Rothgerber could not answer. In the dusk he had not +recognized the men he had seen. Moreover, they had ridden into the +brush to escape observation. Both of them had been armed with rifles. + +The old woman started to light a lamp, but Roy stopped her. "Let's eat +in the dark," he proposed. "Then I'll slip out to the bunkhouse and +you can have your light." + +His voice shook. When he tried to eat, his fingers could scarcely hold +a knife and fork. Supper was for him a sham. A steel band seemed to +grip his throat and make the swallowing of food impossible. He was as +unnerved as a condemned criminal waiting for the noose. + +After drinking a cup of coffee, he pushed back his chair and rose. + +"Petter stay with us," urged the old German. He did not know why this +young man was in danger, but he read in the face the stark fear of a +soul in travail. + +"No. I'll saddle and go down to see Rutherford. Good-night." + +Roy went out of the back door and crept along the shadows of the hill. +Beneath his foot a dry twig snapped. It was enough. He fled +panic-stricken, pursued by all the demons of hell his fears could +evoke. A deadly, unnerving terror clutched at his throat. The +pounding blood seemed ready to burst the veins at his temples. + +The bunkhouse loomed before him in the darkness. As he plunged at the +door a shot rang out. A bolt of fire burned into his shoulder. He +flung the door open, slammed it shut behind him, locked and bolted it +almost with one motion. For a moment he leaned half swooning against +the jamb, sick through and through at the peril he had just escaped. + +But had he escaped it? Would they not break in on him and drag him out +to death? The acuteness of his fright drove away the faintness. He +dragged the bed from its place and pushed it against the door. Upon it +he piled the table, the washstand, the chairs. Feverishly he worked to +barricade the entrance against his enemies. + +When he had finished, his heart was beating against his ribs like that +of a wild rabbit in the hands of a boy. He looked around for the +safest place to hide. From the floor he stripped a Navajo rug and +pulled up the trapdoor that led to a small cellar stairway. Down into +this cave he went, letting the door fall shut after him. + +In that dark blackness he waited, a crumpled, trembling wretch, for +whatever fate might have in store for him. + +How long he crouched there Beaudry never knew. At last reason asserted +itself and fought back the panic. To stay where he was would be to +invite destruction. His attackers would come to the window. The +barricaded door, the displaced rug, the trapdoor, would advertise his +terror. The outlaws would break in and make an end of him. + +Roy could hardly drag his feet up the stairs, so near was he to +physical collapse. He listened. No sound reached him. Slowly he +pushed up the trapdoor. Nobody was in the room. He crept up, lowered +the door, and replaced the carpet. With his eyes on the window he put +back the furniture where it belonged. Then, revolver in hand, he sat +in one corner of the room and tried to decide what he must do. + +Down in the cellar he had been vaguely aware of a dull pain in his +shoulder and a wet, soggy shirt above the place. But the tenseness of +his anxiety had pushed this into the background of his thoughts. Now +again the throbbing ache intruded itself. The fingers of his left hand +searched under his waistcoat, explored a spot that was tender and +soppy, and came forth moist. + +He knew he had been shot, but this gave him very little concern. He +had no time to worry about his actual ills, since his whole mind was +given to the fear of those that were impending. + +Upon the window there came a faint tapping. The hand with the revolver +jerked up automatically. Every muscle of Beaudry's body grew rigid. +His senses were keyed to a tense alertness. He moistened his lips with +his tongue as he crouched in readiness for the attack about to break. + +Again the tapping, and this time with it a quick, low, imperious call. + +"Mr. Street. Are you there? Let me in!" + +He knew that voice--would have known it among a thousand. In another +moment he had raised the window softly and Beulah Rutherford was +climbing in. + +She panted as if she had been running. "They're watching the entrance +to the arroyo. I came up through the cañon and across the pasture," +she explained. + +"Did they see you?" + +"No. Think not. We must get out of here." + +"How?" + +"The same way I came." + +"But--if they see us and shoot?" + +The girl brushed his objection aside. "We can't help that. They know +you're here, don't they?" + +"Yes." + +"Then they'll rush the house. Come." + +Still he hesitated. At least they had the shelter of the house. +Outside, if they should be discovered, they would be at the mercy of +his foes. + +"What are you waiting for?" she asked sharply, and she moved toward the +window. + +But though he recoiled from going to meet the danger, he could not let +a girl lead the way. Beaudry dropped to the ground outside and stood +ready to lend her a hand. She did not need one. With a twist of her +supple body Beulah came through the opening and landed lightly beside +him. + +They crept back to the shadows of the hill and skirted its edge. +Slowly they worked their way from the bunkhouse, making the most of +such cover as the chaparral afforded. Farther up they crossed the road +into the pasture and by way of it reached the orchard. Every inch of +the distance Roy sweated fear. + +She was leading, ostensibly because she knew the lay of the land +better. Through the banked clouds the moon was struggling. Its light +fell upon her lithe, slender figure, the beautifully poised head, the +crown of soft black hair. She moved with the grace and the rhythm of a +racing filly stepping from the paddock to the track. + +Beaudry had noticed, even in his anxiety, that not once since the +tapping on the window had her hand touched his or the sweep of her +skirt brushed against his clothes. She would save him if she could, +but with an open disdain that dared him to misunderstand. + +They picked their course diagonally through the orchard toward the +cañon. Suddenly Beulah stopped. Without turning, she swept her hand +back and caught his. Slowly she drew him to the shadow of an apple +tree. There, palm to palm, they crouched together. + +Voices drifted to them. + +"I'd swear I hit him," one said. + +"Maybe you put him out of business. We got to find out," another +answered. + +"I'll crawl up to the window and take a look," responded the first. + +The voices and the sound of the man's movements died. Beulah's hand +dropped to her side. + +"We're all right now," she said coldly. + +They reached the gulch and slowly worked their way down its precipitous +sides to the bottom. + +The girl turned angrily on Roy. "Why didn't you come after father +warned you?" + +"I didn't get his warning till night. I was away." + +"Then how did you get back up the arroyo when it was watched?" + +"I--I wasn't out into the park," he told her. + +"Oh!" Her scornful gypsy eyes passed over him and wiped him from the +map. She would not even comment on the obvious alternative. + +"You think I've been up at Dan Meldrum's spying," he protested hotly. + +"Haven't you?" she flung at him. + +"Yes, if that's what you want to call it," came quickly his bitter +answer. "The man who has been my best friend is lying up there a +prisoner because he knows too much about the criminals of Huerfano +Park. I heard Meldrum threaten to kill him unless he promised what was +wanted of him. Why shouldn't I do my best to help the man who--" + +Her voice, sharpened by apprehension, cut into his. "What man? Who +are you talking about?" + +"I'm talking about David Dingwell." + +"What do you mean that he knows too much? Too much about what?" she +demanded. + +"About the express robbery." + +"Do you mean to say that--that my people--?" She choked with anger, +but back of her indignation was fear. + +"I mean to say that one of your brothers was guarding Dingwell and that +later your father went up to Meldrum's place. They are starving him to +get something out of him. I serve warning on you that if they hurt my +friend--" + +"Starving him!" she broke out fiercely. "Do you dare say that my +people--my father--would torture anybody? Is that what you mean, you +lying spy?" + +Her fury was a spur to him. "I don't care what words you use," he +flung back wildly. "They have given him no food for three days. I +didn't know such things were done nowadays. It's as bad as what the +old Apaches did. It's devilish--" + +He pulled himself up. What right had he to talk that way to the girl +who had just saved his life? Her people might be law-breakers, but he +felt that she was clean of any wrongdoing. + +Her pride was shaken. A more immediate issue had driven it into the +background. + +"Why should they hurt him?" she asked. "If they had meant to do that--" + +"Because he won't tell what he knows--where the gold is--won't promise +to keep quiet about it afterward. What else can they do? They can't +turn him loose as a witness against them." + +"I don't believe it. I don't believe a word of it." Her voice broke. +"I'm going up to see right away." + +"You mean--to-night?" + +"I mean now." + +She turned up the gulch instead of down. Reluctantly he followed her. + + + + +Chapter XIII + +Beulah Interferes + +They felt their way up in the darkness. The path was rough and at +first pitch-black. After a time they emerged from the aspens into more +open travel. Here were occasional gleams of light, as if the moon +stood tip-toe and peered down between the sheer walls of Chicito to the +obscure depths below. + +Beulah led. Mountain-born and bred, she was active as a bighorn. Her +slenderness was deceptive. It concealed the pack of her long rippling +muscles, the deep-breasted strength of her torso. One might have +marched a long day's journey without finding a young woman more +perfectly modeled for grace and for endurance. + +"What are you going to try to do?" Beaudry asked of her timidly. + +She turned on him with a burst of feminine ferocity. "Is that any of +your business? I didn't ask you to come with me, did I? Go down to +the horse ranch and ask dad to help you out of the park. Then, when +you're safe with your friends, you can set the officers on him. Tell +them he is a criminal--just as you told me." + +Her biting tongue made him wince. "If I told you that I'm sorry. I +had no right. You've saved my life. Do you think it likely I would +betray your people after that?" + +"How do I know what a spy would do? Thank God, I can't put myself in +the place of such people," she answered disdainfully. + +He smiled ruefully. She was unjust, of course. But that did not +matter. Roy knew that she was wrought up by what he had told her. +Pride and shame and hatred and distrust spoke in her sharp words. Was +it not natural that a high-spirited girl should resent such a charge +against her people and should flame out against the man who had wounded +her? Even though she disapproved of what they had done, she would fly +to their defense when attacked. + +From the dark gash of the ravine they came at last to the opening where +Meldrum lived. + +The young woman turned to Beaudry. "Give me your revolver belt." + +He hesitated. "What are you going to do?" + +Plainly she would have liked to rebuff him, but just now he had the +whip hand. Her sullen answer came slowly. + +"I'm going to tell my brother that father needs him. When he has gone, +I'll see what I can do." + +"And what am I to do while you are inside?" + +"Whatever you like." She held out her hand for his belt. + +Not at all willingly he unbuckled it. "You'll be careful," he urged. +"Meldrum is a bad man. Don't try any tricks with him." + +"He knows better than to touch a hair of my head," she assured him with +proud carelessness. Then, "Hide in those trees," she ordered. + +Ned Rutherford answered her knock on the door of the _jacal_. At sight +of her he exclaimed:-- + +"What are you doing here, Boots? At this time of night? Anything +wrong?" + +"Dad needs you, Ned. It seems there is trouble about that young man +Street. Jess Tighe has sworn to kill him and dad won't have it. +There's trouble in the air. You're to come straight home." + +"Why didn't he send Jeff?" + +"He needed him. You're to keep on down through the cañon to the mouth. +Jess has the mouth of the arroyo guarded to head off Street." + +"But--what's broke? Why should Tighe be so keen on bumping off this +pink-ear when dad says no?" + +"They've found out who he is. It seems Street is an _alias_. He is +really Royal Beaudry, the son of the man who used to be sheriff of the +county, the one who crippled Jess the day he was killed." + +The slim youth in the high-heeled boots whistled. He understood now +why Tighe dared to defy his father. + +"All right, Boots. With you in a minute, soon as I get my hat and let +Dan know." + +"No. I'm to stay here till dad sends for me. He doesn't want me near +the trouble." + +"You mean you're to stay at Rothgerber's." + +"No, here. Tighe may attack Rothgerber's any time to get this young +Beaudry. I heard shooting as I came up." + +"But--you can't stay here. What's dad thinking about?" he frowned. + +"If you mean because of Mr. Dingwell, I know all about that." + +"Who told you?" he demanded. + +"Dad can't keep secrets from me. There's no use his trying." + +"Hm! I notice he loaded us with a heap of instructions not to let you +know anything. He'd better learn to padlock his own tongue." + +"Isn't there a room where I can sleep here?" Beulah asked. + +"There's a cot in the back room," he admitted sulkily. "But you +can't--" + +"That's another thing," she broke in. "Dad doesn't want Dan left alone +with Mr. Dingwell." + +"Who's that out there, Ned?" growled a heavy voice from inside. + +Beulah followed her brother into the hut. Two men stared at her in +amazement. One sat on the bed with a leg tied to the post. The other +was at the table playing solitaire, a revolver lying beside the cards. +The card-player was Meldrum. He jumped up with an oath. + +"Goddlemighty! What's she doing here?" he demanded in his hoarse +raucous bass. + +"That's her business and mine," Rutherford answered haughtily. + +"It's mine too, by God! My neck's in the noose, ain't it?" screamed +the former convict. "Has everybody in the park got to know we're +hiding Dingwell here? Better put it in the paper. Better--" + +"Enough of that, Dan. Dad is running this show. Obey orders, and that +lets you out," retorted the young man curtly. "You've met my sister, +haven't you, Dave?" + +The cattleman smiled at the girl. "Sure. We had a little ride +together not long since. I owe you a new raincoat. Don't I, Miss +Beulah?" + +She blushed a little. "No, you don't, Mr. Dingwell. The mud came off +after it dried." + +"That's good." Dave turned to Rutherford. The little devils of +mischief were in his eyes. "Chet Fox was with us, but he didn't +stay--had an engagement, he said. He was in some hurry to keep it, +too." + +But though he chatted with them gayly, the ranchman's mind was +subconsciously busy with the new factor that had entered into the +problem of his captivity. Why had Rutherford allowed her to come? He +could not understand that. Every added one who knew that he was here +increased the danger to his abductors. He knew how fond the owner of +the horse ranch was of this girl. It was odd that he had let her +become incriminated in his lawless plans. Somehow that did not seem +like Hal Rutherford. One point that stood out like the Map of Texas +brand was the effect of her coming upon his chances. To secure their +safety neither Tighe nor Meldrum would stick at murder. Ten minutes +ago the prudent way out of the difficulty would have been for them to +arrange his death by accident. Now this was no longer feasible. When +the Rutherford girl had stepped into the conspiracy, it became one of +finesse and not bloodshed. Was this the reason that her father had +sent her--to stay the hands of his associates already reaching toward +the prisoner? There was no question that Meldrum's finger had been +itching on the trigger of his revolver for a week. One of the young +Rutherfords had been beside him day and night to restrain the man. + +Dave was due for another surprise when Ned presently departed after a +whispered conference with Meldrum and left his sister in the hut. +Evidently something important was taking place in another part of the +park. Had it to do with young Beaudry? + +From his reflections the cattleman came to an alert attention. Miss +Rutherford was giving Meldrum instructions to arrange her bed in the +back room. + +The convict hesitated. "I can't leave him here alone with you," he +remonstrated surlily. + +"Why can't you?" demanded Beulah incisively. "He's tied to the bedpost +and I have my gun. I can shoot as straight as you can. What harm can +he do me in five minutes? Don't be an idiot, Dan." + +Meldrum, grumbling, passed into the back room. + +In an instant Beulah was at the table, had drawn out a drawer, and had +seized a carving knife. She turned on Dingwell, eyes flashing. + +"If I help you to escape, will you swear to say nothing that will hurt +my father or anybody else in the park?" she demanded in a low voice. + +"Yes--if young Beaudry has not been hurt." + +"You swear it." + +"Yes." + +She tossed him the knife, and moved swiftly back to the place where she +had been standing. "Whatever my father wants you to do you'd better +do," she said out loud for the benefit of Meldrum. + +Dingwell cut the ropes that bound his leg. "I'm liable to be Dan's +guest quite awhile yet. Rutherford and I don't quite agree on the +terms," he drawled aloud. + +Beulah tossed him her revolver. "I'll call Dan, but you're not to hurt +him," she whispered. + +When Meldrum came in answer to her summons, he met the shock of his +life. In Dingwell's competent hand was a revolver aimed at his heart. + +The man turned savagely to Beulah. "So I'm the goat," he said with a +curse. "Rutherford is going to frame me, is he? I'm to go to the pen +in place of the whole bunch. Is that it?" + +"No, you've guessed wrong. Yore hide is safe this time, Meldrum," the +cattleman explained. "Reach for the roof. No, don't do that. . . . +Now, turn yore face to the wall." + +Dave stepped forward and gathered in the forty-four of the enemy. He +also relieved him of his "skinning" knife. With the deft hands of an +old roper he tied the man up and flung him on the bed. + +This done, Dingwell made straight for the larder. Though he was +ravenous, the cattleman ate with discretion. Into his pockets he +packed all the sandwiches they would hold. + +"Is it true that you--that they didn't give you anything to eat?" asked +Beulah. + +He looked at her--and lied cheerfully. + +"Sho, I got cranky and wouldn't eat. Yore folks treated me fine. I +got my neck bowed. Can't blame them for that, can I?" + +"We must be going," she told him. "If you don't get over the pass +before morning, Tighe might catch you." + +He nodded agreement. "You're right, but I've got to look out for young +Beaudry. Do you know where he is?" + +"He is waiting outside," the girl said stiffly. "Take him away with +you. I'll not be responsible for him if he comes back. We don't like +spies here." + +They found Roy lying against the wall of the hut, his white face +shining in the moonlight. + +"What's the matter with you?" demanded Miss Rutherford sharply. + +"I'm all right." Roy managed to rise and lean against the _jacal_. "I +see you made it. Mr. Dingwell, my name is Beaudry." + +"Glad to know you." The cattleman's strong hand gripped his limp one. +"Yore father was the gamest man I ever knew and one of my best friends." + +The keen eyes of Beulah had been fastened on Roy. She recalled what +she had heard the man say in the orchard. In her direct fashion she +flung a question at the young man. + +"Are you wounded? Did that man hit you when he fired?" + +"It's in my shoulder--just a flesh wound. The bleeding has stopped +except when I move." + +"Why didn't you say something about it?" she asked impatiently. "Do +you think we're clairvoyants? We'd better get him into the house and +look at it, Mr. Dingwell." + +They did as she suggested. A bullet had ploughed a furrow across the +shoulder. Except for the loss of blood, the wound was not serious. +With the help of Miss Rutherford, which was given as a matter of course +and quite without embarrassment, Dave dressed and bandaged the hurt +like an expert. In his adventurous life he had looked after many men +who had been shot, and had given first aid to a dozen with broken bones. + +Roy winced a little at the pain, but he made no outcry. He was not a +baby about suffering. That he could stand as well as another. What +shook his nerve was the fear of anticipation, the dread of an impending +disaster which his imagination magnified. + +"You'd better hurry," he urged two or three times. "Some one might +come any minute." + +Dave looked at him, a little surprised. "What's the urge, son? We've +got two six-guns with us if anybody gets too neighborly." + +But Beulah was as keen for the start as Beaudry. She did not want the +men escaping from the park to meet with her people. To avoid this, +rapid travel was necessary. + +As soon as Roy was patched up they started. + + + + +Chapter XIV + +Personally Escorted + +Before they reached the mouth of the cañon, Dave was supporting the +slack body of his friend. When the party came to the aspens, Beulah +hurried forward, and by the time the two men emerged she was waiting +for them with Blacky. + +Roy protested at taking the horse, but the girl cut short his +objections imperiously. + +"Do you think we've only your silly pride to consider? I want you out +of the park--where my people can't reach you. I'm going to see you get +out. After that I don't care what you do." + +Moonlight fell upon the sardonic smile on the pitifully white face of +the young man. "I'm to be personally conducted by the Queen of +Huerfano. That's great. I certainly appreciate the honor." + +With the help of Dingwell he pulled himself to the saddle. The +exertion started a spurt of warm blood at the shoulder, but Roy +clenched his teeth and clung to the pommel to steady himself. The +cattleman led the horse and Beulah walked beside him. + +"I can get another pony for you at Cameron's," she explained. "Just +above there is a short cut by way of Dolores Sinks. You ought to be +across the divide before morning. I'll show you the trail." + +What story she told to get the horse from Cameron her companions did +not know, but from where they waited in the pines they saw the +flickering light of a lantern cross to the stable. Presently Beulah +rode up to them on the hillside above the ranch. + +By devious paths she led them through chaparral and woodland. +Sometimes they followed her over hills and again into gulches. The +girl "spelled" Dingwell at riding the second horse, but whether in the +saddle or on foot her movements showed such swift certainty that Dave +was satisfied she knew where she was going. + +Twice she stopped to rest the wounded man, who was now clinging with +both hands to the saddle-horn. But the hard gleam of her dark eyes +served notice that she was moved by expediency and not sympathy. + +It was midnight when at last she stopped near the entrance to the pass. + +"The road lies straight before you over the divide. You can't miss it. +Once on the other side keep going till you get into the foothills. All +trails will take you down," she told Dingwell. + +"We're a heap obliged to you, Miss Rutherford," answered Dingwell. "I +reckon neither one of us is liable to forget what you've done for us." + +She flamed. "I've nothing against you, Mr. Dingwell, but you might as +well know that what I've done was for my people. I don't want them to +get into trouble. If it hadn't been for that--" + +"You'd 'a' done it just the same," the cattleman finished for her with +a smile. "You can't make me mad to-night after going the limit for us +the way you have." + +Beaudry, sagging over the horn of the saddle, added his word timidly, +but the Rutherford girl would have none of his thanks. + +"You don't owe me anything, I tell you. How many times have I got to +say that it is nothing to me what becomes of you?" she replied, +flushing angrily. "All I ask is that you don't cross my path again. +Next time I'll let Jess Tighe have his way." + +"I didn't go into the park to spy on your people, Miss Rutherford. I +went to--" + +"I care nothing about why you came." The girl turned to Dingwell, her +chin in the air. "Better let him rest every mile or two. I don't want +him breaking down in our country after all the trouble I've taken." + +"You may leave him to me. I'll look out for him," Dave promised. + +"Just so that you don't let him get caught again," she added. + +Her manner was cavalier, her tone almost savage. Without another word +she turned and left them. + +Dingwell watched her slim form disappear into the night. + +"Did you ever see such a little thoroughbred?" he asked admiringly. "I +take off my hat to her. She's the gamest kid I ever met--and pretty as +they grow. Just think of her pulling off this getaway to-night. It +was a man-size job, and that little girl never turned a hair from start +to finish. And loyal! By Gad! Hal Rutherford hasn't earned fidelity +like that, even if he has been father and mother to her since she was a +year old. He'd ought to send her away from that hell-hole and give her +a chance." + +"What will they do to her when she gets back?" + +Dave chuckled. "They can't do a thing. That's the beauty of it. +There'll be a lot of tall cussing in Huerfano for a while, but after +Hal has onloaded what's on his chest he'll stand between her and the +rest." + +"Sure of that?" + +"It's a cinch." The cattleman laughed softly. "But ain't she the +little spitfire? I reckon she sure hates you thorough." + +Roy did not answer. He was sliding from the back of his horse in a +faint. + +When Beaudry opened his eyes again, Dingwell was pouring water into his +mouth from a canteen that had been hanging to the pommel of Miss +Rutherford's saddle. + +"Was I unconscious?" asked the young man in disgust. + +"That's whatever. Just you lie there, son, whilst I fix these bandages +up for you again." + +The cattleman moistened the hot cloths with cold water and rearranged +them. + +"We ought to be hurrying on," Roy suggested, glancing anxiously down +the steep ascent up which they had ridden. + +"No rush a-tall," Dave assured him cheerfully. "We got all the time +there is. Best thing to do is to loaf along and take it easy." + +"But they'll be on our trail as soon as they know we've gone. They'll +force Miss Rutherford to tell which way we came." + +Dingwell grinned. "Son, did you ever look into that girl's eyes? They +look right at you, straight and unafraid. The Huerfano Park outfit +will have a real merry time getting her to tell anything she doesn't +want to. When she gets her neck bowed, I'll bet she's some sot. Might +as well argue with a government mule. She'd make a right interesting +wife for some man, but he'd have to be a humdinger to hold his end +up--six foot of man, lots of patience, and sense enough to know he'd +married a woman out of 'steen thousand." + +Young Beaudry was not contemplating matrimony. His interest just now +was centered in getting as far from the young woman and her relatives +as possible. + +"When young Rutherford finds he has been sold, there will be the deuce +to pay," urged Roy. + +"Will there? I dunno. Old man Rutherford ain't going to be so awfully +keen to get us back on his hands. We worried him a heap. Miss Beulah +lifted two heavy weights off'n his mind. I'm one and you're the other. +O' course, he'll start the boys out after us to square himself with +Tighe and Meldrum. He's got to do that. They're sure going to be busy +bees down in the Huerfano hive. The Rutherford boys are going to do a +lot of night-riding for quite some time. But I expect Hal won't give +them orders to bring us in dead or alive. There is no premium on our +pelts." + +Roy spent a nervous half-hour before his friend would let him mount +again--and he showed it. The shrewd eyes of the old cattleman +appraised him. Already he guessed some of the secrets of this young +man's heart. + +Dave swung to the left into the hills so as to get away from the beaten +trails after they had crossed the pass. He rode slowly, with a careful +eye upon his companion. Frequently he stopped to rest in spite of +Roy's protests. + +Late in the afternoon they came to a little mountain ranch owned by a +nester who had punched cattle for Dave in the old days. Now he was +doing a profitable business himself in other men's calves. He had +started with a branding-iron and a flexible conscience. He still had +both of them, together with a nice little bunch of cows that beat the +world's records for fecundity. + +It was not exactly the place Dingwell would have chosen to go into +hiding, but he had to take what he could get. Roy, completely +exhausted, was already showing a fever. He could not possibly travel +farther. + +With the casual confidence that was one of his assets Dave swung from +his horse and greeted the ranchman. + +"'Lo, Hart! Can we roost here to-night? My friend got thrown and hurt +his shoulder. He's all in." + +The suspicious eyes of the nester passed over Beaudry and came back to +Dingwell. + +"I reckon so," he said, not very graciously. "We're not fixed for +company, but if you'll put up with what we've got--" + +"Suits us fine. My friend's name is Beaudry. I'll get him right to +bed." + +Roy stayed in bed for forty-eight hours. His wound was only a slight +one and the fever soon subsided. The third day he was sunning himself +on the porch. Dave had gone on a little jaunt to a water-hole to shoot +hooters for supper. Mrs. Hart was baking bread inside. Her husband +had left before daybreak and was not yet back. He was looking for +strays, his wife said. + +In the family rocking-chair Roy was reading a torn copy of "Martin +Chuzzlewit." How it had reached this haven was a question, since it +was the only book in the house except a Big Creek bible, as the +catalogue of a mail-order house is called in that country. Beaudry +resented the frank, insolent observations of Dickens on the manners of +Americans. In the first place, the types were not true to life. In +the second place-- + +The young man heard footsteps coming around the corner of the house. +He glanced up carelessly--and his heart seemed to stop beating. + +He was looking into the barrel of a revolver pointed straight at him. +Back of the weapon was the brutal, triumphant face of Meldrum. It was +set in a cruel grin that showed two rows of broken, tobacco-stained +teeth. + +"By God! I've got you. Git down on yore knees and beg, Mr. Spy. I'm +going to blow yore head off in just thirty seconds." + +Not in his most unbridled moments had Dickens painted a bully so +appalling as this one. This man was a notorious "killer" and the lust +of murder was just now on him. Young Beaudry's brain reeled. It was +only by an effort that he pulled himself back from the unconsciousness +into which he was swimming. + + + + +Chapter XV + +The Bad Man + +The eyes of Beaudry, held in dreadful fascination, clung to the lupine +face behind the revolver. To save his life he could have looked +nowhere else except into those cold, narrow pupils where he read death. +Little beads of sweat stood on his forehead. The tongue in his mouth +was dry. His brain seemed paralyzed. Again he seemed to be lifted +from his feet by a wave of deadly terror. + +Meldrum had been drinking heavily, but he was not drunk. He drew from +his pocket a watch and laid it on the arm of the chair. Roy noticed +that the rim of the revolver did not waver. It was pointed directly +between his eyes. + +"Git down on yore knees and beg, damn you. In less 'n a minute hell +pops for you." + +The savage, exultant voice of the former convict beat upon Roy like the +blows of a hammer. He would have begged for his life,--begged +abjectly, cravenly,--but his teeth chattered and his parched tongue was +palsied. He would have sunk to his knees, but terror had robbed his +muscles of the strength to move. He was tied to his chair by ropes +stronger than chains of steel. + +The watch ticked away the seconds. From the face of Meldrum the grin +was snuffed out by a swift surge of wolfish anger. + +"Are you deef and dumb?" he snarled. "It's Dan Meldrum talking--the +man yore dad sent to the penitentiary. I'm going to kill you. Then +I'll cut another notch on my gun. Understand?" + +The brain of the young lawyer would not function. His will was +paralyzed. Yet every sense was amazingly alert. He did not miss a +tick of the watch. Every beat of his heart registered. + +"You butted in and tried to spy like yore dad, did you?" the raucous +voice continued. "Thought you could sell us out and git away with it. +Here's where you learn different. Jack Beaudry was a man, anyhow, and +we got him. You're nothing but a pink-ear, a whey-faced baby without +guts to stand the gaff. Well, you've come to the end of yore trail. +Beg, you skunk!" + +From the mind of Beaudry the fog lifted. In the savage, malignant eyes +glaring at him he read that he was lost. The clutch of fear so +overwhelmed him that suspense was unbearable. He wanted to shriek +aloud, to call on this man-killer to end the agony. It was the same +impulse, magnified a hundred times, that leads a man to bite on an +ulcerated tooth in a weak impotence of pain. + +The tick-tick-tick of the watch mocked him to frenzied action. He +gripped the arms of the chair with both hands and thrust forward his +face against the cold rim of the revolver barrel. + +"Shoot!" he cried hoarsely, drunk with terror. "Shoot, and be damned!" + +Before the words were out of his mouth a shot echoed. For the second +time in his life Roy lost consciousness. Not many seconds could have +passed before he opened his eyes again. But what he saw puzzled him. + +Meldrum was writhing on the ground and cursing. His left hand nursed +the right, which moved up and down frantically as if to escape from +pain. Toward the house walked Dingwell and by his side Beulah +Rutherford. Dave was ejecting a shell from the rifle he carried. +Slowly it came to the young man that he had not been shot. The convict +must have been hit instead by a bullet from the gun of the cattleman. +He was presently to learn that the forty-four had been struck and +knocked from the hand of its owner. + +"Every little thing all right, son?" asked the cowman cheerily. "We +sure did run this rescue business fine. Another minute and--But what's +the use of worrying? Miss Beulah and I were Johnny-on-the-spot all +right." + +Roy said nothing. He could not speak. His lips and cheeks were still +bloodless. By the narrowest margin in the world he had escaped. + +Disgustedly the cattleman looked down at Meldrum, who was trying to +curse and weep from pain at the same time. + +"Stung you up some, did I? Hm! You ought to be singing hymns because +I didn't let you have it in the haid, which I'd most certainly have +done if you had harmed my friend. Get up, you bully, and stop cursing. +There's a lady here, and you ain't damaged, anyhow." + +The eyes of Beaudry met those of Beulah. It seemed to him that her lip +curled contemptuously. She had been witness of his degradation, had +seen him show the white feather. A pulse of shame beat in his throat. + +"W-w-what are you doing here?" he asked wretchedly. + +Dave answered for her. "Isn't she always on the job when she's needed? +Yore fairy godmother--that's what Miss Beulah Rutherford is. Rode +hell-for-leather down here to haid off that coyote there--and done it, +too. Bumped into me at the water-hole and I hopped on that Blacky +hawss behind her. He brought us in on the jump and Sharp's old +reliable upset Meldrum's apple cart." + +Still nursing the tips of his tingling fingers, the ex-convict scowled +venomously at Beulah. "I'll remember that, missie. That's twice +you've interfered with me. I sure will learn you to mind yore own +business." + +Dingwell looked steadily at him. "We've heard about enough from you. +Beat it! Hit the trail! Pull yore freight! Light out! _Vamos_! +Git!" + +The man-killer glared at him. For a moment he hesitated. He would +have liked to try conclusions with the cattleman to a fighting finish, +but though he had held his own in many a rough-and-tumble fray, he +lacked the unflawed nerve to face this man with the cold gray eye and +the chilled-steel jaw. His fury broke in an impotent curse as he +slouched away. + +"I don't understand yet," pursued Roy. "How did Miss Rutherford know +that Meldrum was coming here?" + +"Friend Hart rode up to tell Tighe we were here. He met Meldrum close +to the school-house. The kids were playing hide-and-go-seek. One of +them was lying right back of a big rock beside the road. He heard Dan +swear he was coming down to stop yore clock, son. The kid went +straight to teacher soon as the men had ridden off. He told what +Meldrum had said. So, of course, Miss Beulah she sent the children +home and rode down to the hawss ranch to get her father or one of her +brothers. None of them were at home and she hit the trail alone to +warn us." + +"I knew my people would be blamed for what this man did, so I blocked +him," explained the girl with her habitual effect of hostile pride. + +"You said you would let Tighe have his way next time, but you don't +need to apologize for breaking yore word, Miss Beulah," responded +Dingwell with his friendly smile. "All we've got to say is that you've +got chalked up against us an account we'll never be able to pay." + +The color beat into her cheeks. She was both embarrassed and annoyed. +With a gesture of impatience she turned away and walked to Blacky. +Lithely she swung to the saddle. + +Mrs. Hart had come to the porch. In her harassed countenance still +lingered the remains of good looks. The droop at the corners of her +mouth suggested a faint resentment against a fate which had stolen her +youth without leaving the compensations of middle life. + +"Won't you light off'n yore bronc and stay to supper, Miss Rutherford?" +she invited. + +"Thank you, Mrs. Hart. I can't. Must get home." + +With a little nod to the woman she swung her horse around and was gone. + +Hart did not show up for supper nor for breakfast. It was an easy +guess that he lacked the hardihood to face them after his attempted +betrayal. At all events, they saw nothing of him before they left in +the morning. If they had penetrated his wife's tight-lipped reserve, +they might have shared her opinion, that he had gone off on a long +drinking-bout with Dan Meldrum. + +Leisurely Beaudry and his friend rode down through the chaparral to +Battle Butte. + +On the outskirts of the town they met Ned Rutherford. After they had +passed him, he turned and followed in their tracks. + +Dingwell grinned across at Roy. "Some thorough our friends are. A +bulldog has got nothing on them. They're hanging around to help me dig +up that gunnysack when I get ready." + +The two men rode straight to the office of the sheriff and had a talk +with him. From there they went to the hotel where Dave usually put up +when he was in town. Over their dinner the cattleman renewed an offer +he had been urging upon Roy all the way down from Hart's place. He +needed a reliable man to help him manage the different holdings he had +been accumulating. His proposition was to take Beaudry in as a junior +partner, the purchase price to be paid in installments to be earned out +of the profits of the business. + +"Course I don't want to take you away from the law if you're set on +that profession, but if you don't really care--" Dave lifted an +eyebrow in a question. + +"I think I'd like the law, but I know I would like better an active +outdoor life. That's not the point, Mr. Dingwell. I can't take +something for nothing. You can get a hundred men who know far more +about cattle than I do. Why do you pick me?" + +"I've got reasons a-plenty. Right off the bat here are some of them. +I'm under obligations to Jack Beaudry and I'd like to pay my debt to +his son. I've got no near kin of my own. I need a partner, but it +isn't one man out of a dozen I can get along with. Most old cowmen are +rutted in their ways. You don't know a thing about the business. But +you can learn. You're teachable. You are not one of these wise guys. +Then, too, I like you, son. I don't want a partner that rubs me the +wrong way. Hell, my why-fors all simmer down to one. You're the +partner I want, Roy." + +"If you find I don't suit you, will you let me know?" + +"Sure. But there is no chance of that." Dave shook hands with him +joyously. "It's a deal, boy." + +"It's a deal," agreed Beaudry. + + + + +Chapter XVI + +Roy is Invited to Take a Drink + +Dingwell gave a fishing-party next day. His invited guests were +Sheriff Sweeney, Royal Beaudry, Pat Ryan, and Superintendent Elder, of +the Western Express Company. Among those present, though at a +respectable distance, were Ned Rutherford and Brad Charlton. + +The fishermen took with them neither rods nor bait. Their flybooks +were left at home. Beaudry brought to the meeting-place a quarter-inch +rope and a grappling-iron with three hooks. Sweeney and Ryan carried +rifles and the rest of the party revolvers. + +Dave himself did the actual fishing. After the grappling-hook had been +attached to the rope, he dropped it into Big Creek from a large rock +under the bridge that leads to town from Lonesome Park. He hooked his +big fish at the fourth cast and worked it carefully into the shallow +water. Roy waded into the stream and dragged the catch ashore. It +proved to be a gunnysack worth twenty thousand dollars. + +Elder counted the sacks inside. "Everything is all right. How did you +come to drop the money here?" + +"I'm mentioning no names, Mr. Elder. But I was so fixed that I +couldn't turn back. If I left the road, my tracks would show. There +were reasons why I didn't want to continue on into town with the loot. +So, as I was crossing the bridge, without leaving the saddle or even +stopping, I deposited the gold in the Big Creek safety deposit vault," +Dingwell answered with a grin. + +"But supposing the Rutherfords had found it?" The superintendent put +his question blandly. + +The face of the cattleman was as expressive as a stone wall. "Did I +mention the Rutherfords?" he asked, looking straight into the eye of +the Western Express man. "I reckon you didn't hear me quite right." + +Elder laughed a little. He was a Westerner himself. "Oh, I heard you, +Mr. Dingwell. But I haven't heard a lot of things I'd like to know." + +The cattleman pushed the sack with his toe. "Money talks, folks say." + +"Maybe so. But it hasn't told me why you couldn't go back along the +road you came, why you couldn't leave the road, and why you didn't want +to go right up to Sweeney's office with the sack. It hasn't given me +any information about where you have been the past two weeks, or how--" + +"My gracious! He bubbles whyfors and howfors like he had just come +uncorked," murmured Dave, in his slow drawl. "Just kinder effervesces +them out of the mouth." + +"I know you're not going to tell me anything you don't want me to know, +still--" + +"You done guessed it first, crack. Move on up to the haid of the +class." + +"Still, you can't keep me from thinking. You can call the turn on the +fellows that robbed the Western Express Company whenever you feel like +it. Right now you could name the men that did it." + +Dave's most friendly, impudent smile beamed upon the superintendent. +"I thank you for the compliment, Mr. Elder. Honest, I didn't know how +smart a haid I had in my hat till you told me." + +"It's good ye've got an air-tight _alibi_ yoursilf, Dave," grinned Pat +Ryan. + +"I've looked up his _alibi_. It will hold water," admitted Elder +genially. "Well, Dingwell, if you won't talk, you won't. We'll move +on up to the bank and deposit our find. Then the drinks will be on me." + +The little procession moved uptown. A hundred yards behind it came +young Rutherford and Charlton as a rear guard. When the contents of +the sack had been put in a vault for safe-keeping, Elder invited the +party into the Last Chance. Dave and Roy ordered buttermilk. + +Dingwell gave his partner a nudge. "See who is here." + +The young man nodded gloomily. He had recognized already the two men +drinking at a table in the rear. + +"Meldrum and Hart make a sweet pair to draw to when they're tanking up. +They're about the two worst bad men in this part of the country. My +advice is to take the other side of the street when you see them +coming," Ryan contributed. + +The rustlers glowered at Elder's party, but offered no comment other +than some sneering laughter and ribald whispering. Yet Beaudry +breathed freer when he was out in the open again lengthening the +distance between him and them at every stride. + +Ryan walked as far as the hotel with Dave and his partner. + +"Come in and have dinner with us, Pat," invited the cattleman. + +The Irishman shook his head. "Can't, Dave. Got to go round to the +Elephant Corral and look at my horse. A nail wint into its foot last +night." + +After they had dined, Dingwell looked at his watch. "I want you to +look over the ranch today, son. We'll ride out and I'll show you the +place. But first I've got to register a kick with the station agent +about the charges for freight on a wagon I had shipped in from Denver. +Will you stop at Salmon's and order this bill of groceries sent up to +the corral? I'll meet you here at 2.30." + +Roy walked up Mission Street as far as Salmon's New York Grocery and +turned in the order his friend had given him. After he had seen it +filled, he strolled along the sunny street toward the plaza. It was +one of those warm, somnolent New Mexico days as peaceful as old age. +Burros blinked sleepily on three legs and a hoof-tip. Cowponies +switched their tails indolently to brush away flies. An occasional +half-garbed Mexican lounged against a door jamb or squatted in the +shade of a wall. A squaw from the reservation crouched on the curb +beside her display of pottery. Not a sound disturbed the siesta of +Battle Butte. + +Into this peace broke an irruption of riot. A group of men poured +through the swinging doors of a saloon into the open arcade in front. +Their noisy disputation shattered the sunny stillness like a fusillade +in the desert. Plainly they were much the worse for liquor. + +Roy felt again the familiar clutch at his throat, the ice drench at his +heart, and the faint slackness of his leg muscles. For in the crowd +just vomited from the Silver Dollar were Meldrum, Fox, Hart, Charlton, +and Ned Rutherford. + +Charlton it was that caught sight of the passing man. With an exultant +whoop he leaped out, seized Beaudry, and swung him into the circle of +hillmen. + +"Tickled to death to meet up with you, Mr. +Royal-Cherokee-Beaudry-Street. How is every little thing a-coming? +Fine as silk, eh? You'd ought to be laying by quite a bit of the +mazuma, what with rewards and spy money together," taunted Charlton. + +To the center of the circle Meldrum elbowed his drunken way. "Lemme +get at the pink-ear. Lemme bust him one," he demanded. + +Ned Rutherford held him back. "Don't break yore breeching, Dan. Brad +has done spoke for him," the young man drawled. + +Into the white face of his victim Charlton puffed the smoke of his +cigar. "If you ain't too busy going fishing maybe you could sell me a +windmill to-day. How about that, Mr. Cornell-I-Yell?" + +"Where's yore dry nurse Dingwell?" broke in the ex-convict bitterly. +"Thought he tagged you everywhere. Tell the son-of-a-gun for me that +next time we meet I'll curl his hair right." + +Roy said nothing. He looked wildly around for a way of escape and +found none. A half ring of jeering faces walled him from the street. + +"Lemme get at him. Lemme crack him one on the bean," insisted Meldrum +as he made a wild pass at Beaudry. + +"No hurry a-tall," soothed Ned. "We got all evening before us. Take +yore time, Dan." + +"Looks to me like it's certainly up to Mr. +Cherokee-What's-his-name-Beaudry to treat the crowd," suggested Chet +Fox. + +The young man clutched at the straw. "Sure. Of course, I will. Glad +to treat, even though I don't drink myself," he said with a weak, +forced heartiness. + +"You _don't_ drink. The hell you don't!" cut in Meldrum above the +Babel of voices. + +"He drinks--hic--buttermilk," contributed Hart. + +"He'll drink whiskey when I give the word, by Gad!" Meldrum shook +himself free of Rutherford and pressed forward. He dragged a bottle +from his pocket, drew out the cork, and thrust the liquor at Roy. +"Drink, you yellow-streaked coyote--and drink a-plenty." + +Roy shook his head. "No!--no," he protested. "I--I--never touch it." +His lips were ashen. The color had fled from his cheeks. + +The desperado pushed his cruel, vice-scarred face close to that of the +man he hated. + +"Sa-ay. Listen to me, young fellow. I'm going to bump you off one o' +these days sure. Me, I don't like yore name nor the color of yore hair +nor the map you wear for a face. I'm a killer. Me, Dan Meldrum. And +I serve notice on you right now." With an effort he brought his mind +back to the issue on hand. "But that ain't the point. When I ask a +man to drink he drinks. See? You ain't deef, are you? Then drink, +you rabbit!" + +Beaudry, his heart beating like a triphammer, told himself that he was +not going to drink that they could not make him--that he would die +first. But before he knew it the flask was in his trembling fingers. +Apparently, without the consent of his flaccid will, the muscles had +responded to the impulse of obedience to the spur of fear. Even while +his brain drummed the refrain, "I won't drink--I won't--I won't," the +bottle was rising to his lips. + +He turned a ghastly grin on his tormentors. It was meant to propitiate +them, to save the last scrap of his self-respect by the assumption that +they were all good fellows together. Feebly it suggested that after +all a joke is a joke. + +From the uptilted flask the whiskey poured into his mouth. He +swallowed, and the fiery liquid scorched his throat. Before he could +hand the liquor back to its owner, the ex-convict broke into a curse. + +"Drink, you pink-ear. Don't play 'possum with me," he roared. Roy +drank. Swallow after swallow of the stuff burned its way into his +stomach. He stopped at last, sputtering and coughing. + +"M--much obliged. I'll be going now," he stammered. + +"Not quite yet, Mr. R. C. Street-Beaudry," demurred Charlton suavely. +"Stay and play with us awhile, now you're here. No telling when we'll +meet again." He climbed on the shoe-shining chair that stood in the +entry. "I reckon I'll have my boots shined up. Go to it, Mr. +Beaudry-Street." + +With a whoop of malice the rest of them fell in with the suggestion. +To make this young fellow black their boots in turn was the most +humiliating thing they could think of at the moment. They pushed Roy +toward the stand and put a brush into his hand. He stood still, +hesitating. + +"Git down on yore knees and hop to it," ordered Charlton. "Give him +room, boys." + +Again Beaudry swore to himself that he would not do it. He had an +impulse to smash that sneering, cruel face, but it was physically +impossible for him to lift a hand to strike. Though he was trembling +violently, he had no intention of yielding. Yet the hinges of his +knees bent automatically. He found himself reaching for the blacking +just as if his will were paralyzed. + +Perhaps it was the liquor rushing to his head when he stooped. Perhaps +it was the madness of a terror-stricken rat driven into a corner. His +fear broke bounds, leaped into action. Beaudry saw red. With both +hands he caught Charlton's foot, twisted it savagely, and flung the man +head over heels out of the chair. He snatched up the bootblack's stool +by one leg and brought it crashing down on the head of Meldrum. The +ex-convict went down as if he had been pole-axed. + +There was no time to draw guns, no time to prepare a defense. His +brain on fire from the liquor he had drunk and his overpowering terror, +Beaudry was a berserk gone mad with the lust of battle. He ran amuck +like a maniac, using the stool as a weapon to hammer down the heads of +his foes. It crashed first upon one, now on another. + +Charlton rushed him and was struck down beside Meldrum. Hart, flung +back into the cigar-case, smashed the glass into a thousand splinters. +Young Rutherford was sent spinning into the street. + +His assailants gave way before Beaudry, at first slowly, then in a +panic of haste to escape. He drove them to the sidewalk, flailing away +at those within reach. Chet Fox hurdled in his flight a burro loaded +with wood. + +Then, suddenly as it had swept over Roy, the brain-storm passed. The +mists cleared from his eyes. He looked down at the leg of the stool in +his hand, which was all that remained of it. He looked up--and saw +Beulah Rutherford in the street astride a horse. + +She spoke to her brother, who had drawn a revolver from his pocket. +"You don't need that now, Ned. He's through." + +Her contemptuous voice stung Roy. "Why didn't they leave me alone, +then?" he said sullenly in justification. + +The girl did not answer him. She slipped from the horse and ran into +the arcade with the light grace that came of perfect health and the +freedom of the hills. The eyes of the young man followed this slim, +long-limbed Diana as she knelt beside Charlton and lifted his bloody +head into her arms. He noticed that her eyes burned and that her +virginal bosom rose and fell in agitation. + +None the less she gave first aid with a business-like economy of +motion. "Bring water, Ned,--and a doctor," she snapped crisply, her +handkerchief pressed against the wound. + +To see what havoc he had wrought amazed Roy. The arcade looked as if a +cyclone had swept through it. The cigar-stand was shattered beyond +repair, its broken glass strewn everywhere. The chair of the bootblack +had been splintered into kindling wood. Among the debris sat Meldrum +groaning, both hands pressing a head that furiously ached. Brad +Charlton was just beginning to wake up to his surroundings. + +A crowd had miraculously gathered from nowhere. The fat marshal of +Battle Butte was puffing up the street a block away. Beaudry judged it +time to be gone. He dropped the leg of the stool and strode toward the +hotel. + +Already his fears were active again. What would the hillmen do to him +when they had recovered from the panic into which his madness had +thrown them? Would they start for him at once? Or would they mark one +more score against him and wait? He could scarcely keep his feet from +breaking into a run to get more quickly from the vicinity of the Silver +Dollar. He longed mightily to reach the protection of Dave Dingwell's +experience and debonair _sang froid_. + +The cattleman had not yet reached the hotel. Roy went up to their room +at once and locked himself in. He sat on the bed with a revolver in +his hand. Now that it was all over, he was trembling like an aspen +leaf. For the hundredth time in the past week he flung at himself his +own contemptuous scorn. Why was the son of John Beaudry such an arrant +coward? He knew that his sudden madness and its consequences had been +born of panic. What was there about the quality of his nerves that +differed from those of other men? Even now he was shivering from the +dread that his enemies might come and break down the door to get at him. + +He heard the jocund whistle of Dingwell as the cattleman came along the +corridor. Swiftly he pocketed the revolver and unlocked the door. +When Dave entered, Roy was lying on the bed pretending to read a +newspaper. + +If the older man noticed that the paper shook, he ignored it. + +"What's this I hear, son, about you falling off the water-wagon and +filling the hospital?" His gay grin challenged affectionately the boy +on the bed. "Don't you know you're liable to give the new firm, +Dingwell & Beaudry, a bad name if you pull off insurrections like that? +The city dads are talking some of building a new wing to the accident +ward to accommodate your victims. Taxes will go up and--" + +Roy smiled wanly. "You've heard about it, then?" + +"Heard about it! Say, son, I've heard nothing else for the last twenty +minutes. You're the talk of the town. I didn't know you was such a +bad actor." Dave stopped to break into a chuckle. "Wow! You +certainly hit the high spots. Friend Meldrum and Charlton and our kind +host Hart--all laid out at one clatter. I never was lucky. Here I +wouldn't 'a' missed seeing you pull off this Samson _encore_ for three +cows on the hoof, and I get in too late for the show." + +"They're not hurt badly, are they?" asked Beaudry, a little timidly. + +Dave looked at him with a curious little smile. "You don't want to go +back and do the job more thorough, do you? No need, son. Meldrum and +Charlton are being patched up in the hospital and Hart was at Doc +White's having the glass picked out of his geography. I've talked with +some of the also rans, and they tell me unanimous that it was the most +thorough clean-up they have participated in recently." + +"What will they do--after they get over it?" + +Dingwell grinned. "Search me! But I'll tell you what they won't do. +They'll not invite you to take another drink right away. I'll bet a +hat on that. . . . Come on, son. We got to hit the trail for home." + + + + +Chapter XVII + +Roy Improves the Shining Hours + +The tender spring burnt into crisp summer. Lean hill cattle that had +roughed through the winter storms lost their shaggy look and began to +fill out. For there had been early rains and the bunch grass was +succulent this year. + +Roy went about learning his new business with an energy that delighted +his partner. He was eager to learn and was not too proud to ask +questions. The range conditions, the breeding of cattle, and +transportation problems were all studied by him. Within a month or two +he had become a fair horseman and could rope a steer inexpertly. + +Dingwell threw out a suggestion one day in his characteristic casual +manner. The two men were riding a line fence and Roy had just missed a +shot at a rabbit. + +"Better learn to shoot, son. Take an hour off every day and practice. +You hadn't ought to have missed that cottontail. What you want is to +fire accurately, just as soon as yore gun jumps to the shoulder. I can +teach you a wrinkle or two with a six-gun. Then every time you see a +rattler, take a crack at it. Keep in form. _You might need to bend a +gun one of these days_." + +His partner understood what that last veiled allusion meant. The weeks +had slipped away since the fracas in front of the Silver Dollar. The +enemy had made no move. But cowpunchers returning to the ranch from +town reported that both Meldrum and Charlton had sworn revenge. It was +an even bet that either one of them would shoot on sight. + +Beaudry took Dave's advice. Every day he rode out to a wash and +carried with him a rifle and a revolver. He practiced for rapidity as +well as accuracy. He learned how to fire from the hip, how to empty a +revolver in less than two seconds, how to shoot lying down, and how to +hit a mark either from above or below. + +The young man never went to town alone. He stuck close to the ranch. +The first weeks had been full of stark terror lest he might find one of +his enemies waiting for him behind a clump of prickly pear or hidden in +the mesquite of some lonely wash. He was past that stage, but his +nerves were still jumpy. It was impossible for him to forget that at +least three men were deadly enemies of his and would stamp out his life +as they would that of a wolf. Each morning he wakened with a little +shock of dread. At night he breathed relief for a few hours of safety. + +Meanwhile Dave watched him with an indolent carelessness of manner that +masked his sympathy. If it had been possible, he would have taken the +burden on his own broad, competent shoulders. But this was not in +Dingwell's code. He had been brought up in that outdoor school of the +West where a man has to game out his own feuds. As the cattleman saw +it, Roy had to go through now just as his father had done seventeen +years before. + +In town one day Dave met Pat Ryan and had a talk with him over dinner. +A remark made by the little cowpuncher surprised his friend. Dingwell +looked at him with narrowed, inquiring eyes. + +The Irishman nodded. "Ye thought you were the only one that knew it? +Well, I'm on, too, Dave." + +"That's not what I hear everywhere else, Pat," answered the cattleman, +still studying the other. "Go down the street and mention the same of +Royal Beaudry--ask any one if he is game. What will you get for a +reply?" + +Without the least hesitation Ryan spoke out. "You'll hear that he's +got more guts than any man in Washington County--that he doesn't know +what fear is. Then likely you'll be told it's natural enough, since +he's the son of Jack Beaudry, the fighting sheriff. Ever-rybody +believes that excipt you and me, Dave. We know better." + +"What do we know, Pat?" + +"We know that the bye is up against a man-size job and is scared stiff." + +"Hmp! Was he scared when he licked a dozen men at the Silver Dollar +and laid out for repairs three of the best fighters in New Mexico?" + +"You're shouting right he was, Dave. No man alive could 'a' done it if +he hadn't been crazy with fright." + +Dingwell laughed. "Hope I'm that way, then, when I get into my next +tight place." He added after a moment: "The trouble with the boy is +that he has too much imagination. He makes his own private little hell +beforehand." + +"I reckon he never learned to ride herd on his fears." + +"Jack Beaudry told me about him onc't. The kid was born after his +mother had been worrying herself sick about Jack. She never could tell +when he'd be brought home dead. Well, Roy inherited fear. I've +noticed that when a sidewinder rattles, he jumps. Same way, when any +one comes up and surprises him. It's what you might call +constitootional with him." + +"Yep. That's how I've got it figured. But--" Pat hesitated and +looked meditatively out of the window. + +"All right. Onload yore mind. Gimme the run of the pen just as yore +thoughts happen," suggested the cattleman. + +"Well, I'm thinking--that he's been lucky, Dave. But soon as Tighe's +tools guess what we know, something's going to happen to Beaudry. He's +got them buffaloed now. But Charlton and Meldrum ain't going to quit. +Can you tell me how your frind will stand the acid next time hell pops?" + +Dave shook his head. "I cannot. That's just what is worrying me. +There are men that have to be lashed on by ridicule to stand the gaff. +But Roy is not like that. I reckon he's all the time flogging himself +like the _penitentes_. He's sick with shame because he can't go out +grinning to meet his troubles. . . . There ain't a thing I can do for +him. He's got to play out his hand alone." + +"Sure he has, and if the luck breaks right, I wouldn't put it past him +to cash in a winner. He's gamer than most of us because he won't quit +even when the divvle of terror is riding his back." + +"Another point in his favor is that he learns easily. When he first +came out to the Lazy Double D, he was afraid of horses. He has got +over that. Give him another month and he'll be a pretty fair shot. Up +till the time he struck this country, Roy had lived a soft city life. +He's beginning to toughen. The things that scare a man are those that +are mysteries to him. Any kid will fight his own brother because he +knows all about him, but he's plumb shy about tackling a strange boy. +Well, that's how it is with Roy. He has got the notion that Meldrum +and Charlton are terrors, but now he has licked them onc't, he won't +figure them out as so bad." + +"He didn't exactly lick them in a stand-up fight, Dave." + +"No, he just knocked them down and tromped on them and put them out of +business," agreed Dingwell dryly. + +The eyes of the little Irishman twinkled. "Brad Charlton is giving it +out that it was an accident." + +"That's what I'd call it, too, if I was Brad," assented the cattleman +with a grin. "But if we could persuade Roy to put over about one more +accident like that, I reckon Huerfano Park would let him alone." + +"While Jess Tighe is living?" + +Dingwell fell grave. "I'd forgotten Tighe. No, I expect the kid had +better keep his weather eye peeled as long as that castor-oil smile of +Jess is working." + + + + +Chapter XVIII + +Rutherford Answers Questions + +Beulah Rutherford took back with her to Huerfano Park an almost +intolerable resentment against the conditions of her life. She had the +family capacity for sullen silence, and for weeks a kind of despairing +rage simmered in her heart. She was essentially of a very direct, +simple nature, clear as Big Creek where it tumbled down from the top of +the world toward the foothills. An elemental honesty stirred in her. +It was necessary to her happiness that she keep her own self-respect +and be able to approve those she loved. + +Just now she could do neither. The atmosphere of the ranch seemed to +stifle her. When she rode out into a brave, clean world of sunshine, +the girl carried her shame along. Ever since she could remember, +outlaws and miscreants had slipped furtively about the suburbs of her +life. The Rutherfords themselves were a hard and savage breed. To +their door had come more than one night rider flying for his life, and +Beulah had accepted the family tradition of hospitality to those at +odds with society. + +A fierce, untamed girl of primitive instincts, she was the heritor of +the family temperament. But like threads of gold there ran through the +warp of her being a fineness that was her salvation. She hated +passionately cruelty and falsehood and deceit. All her life she had +walked near pitch and had never been defiled. + +Hal Rutherford was too close to her not to feel the estrangement of her +spirit. He watched her anxiously, and at last one morning he spoke. +She was standing on the porch waiting for Jeff to bring Blacky when +Rutherford came out and put his arm around her shoulder. + +"What is it, honey?" he asked timidly. + +"It's--everything," she answered, her gaze still on the distant hills. + +"You haven't quarreled with Brad?" + +"No--and I'm not likely to if he'll let me alone." + +Her father did not press the point. If Brad and she had fallen out, +the young man would have to make his own _amende_. + +"None of the boys been deviling you?" + +"No." + +"Aren't you going to tell dad about it, Boots?" + +Presently her dark eyes swept round to his. + +"Why did you say that you didn't know anything about the Western +Express robbery?" + +He looked steadily at her. "I didn't say that, Beulah. What I said +was that I didn't know where the stolen gold was hidden--and I didn't." + +"That was just an evasion. You meant me to think that we had had +nothing to do with the--the robbery." + +"That's right. I did." + +"And all the time--" She broke off, a sob choking her throat. + +"I knew who did it. That's correct. But I wasn't a party to the +robbery. I knew nothing about it till afterward." + +"I've always believed everything you've told me, dad. And now--" + +He felt doubt in her shaken voice. She did not know what to think now. +Rutherford set himself to clear away her suspicions. He chose to do it +by telling the exact truth. + +"Now you may still believe me, honey. The robbery was planned by +Tighe. I'll not mention the names of those in it. The day after it +was pulled off, I heard of it for the first time. Dave Dingwell knew +too much. To protect my friends I had to bring him up here. Legally +I'm guilty of abduction and of the train robbery, too, because I butted +in after the hold-up and protected the guilty ones. I even tried to +save for them the gold they had taken." + +"Were--any of the boys in it, dad?" she quavered. + +"One of them. I won't tell you which." + +"And Brad?" + +"We're not giving names, Boots." + +"Oh, well! I know he was one of them." She slipped her arm within her +father's and gave his hand a little pressure. "I'm glad you told me, +just the same, dad. I'd been thinking--worse things about you." + +"That's all right, honey. Now you won't worry any more, will you?" + +"I don't know. . . . That's not all that troubles me. I feel bad when +the boys drink and brawl. That attack on Mr. Beaudry at Battle Butte +was disgraceful," she flamed. "I don't care if he did come up here +spying. Why can't they let him alone?" + +He passed a hand in a troubled fashion through his grizzled hair. "You +can bet our boys won't touch him again, Boots. I've laid the law down. +But I can't answer for Tighe. He'll do him a meanness if he can, and +he'll do it quicker since I've broken off with him because you helped +Dingwell and Beaudry to escape. I don't know about Brad." + +"I told Brad if he touched him again, I would never speak to him." + +"Maybe that will hold him hitched, then. Anyhow, I'm not going to make +the young fellow trouble. I'd rather let sleeping dogs lie." + +Beulah pressed her arm against his. "I haven't been fair to you, dad. +I might have known you would do right." + +"I aim to stay friends with my little girl no matter what happens. +Yore mother gave you into my hands when she was dying and I promised to +be mother and father to you. Yore own father was my brother Anse. He +died before you were born. I've been the only dad you ever had, and I +reckon you know you've been more to me than any of my own boys." + +"You shouldn't say that," she corrected quickly. "I'm a girl, and, of +course, you spoil me more. That's all." + +She gave him a ferocious little hug and went quickly into the house. +Happiness had swept through her veins like the exquisite flush of dawn. +Her lustrous eyes were wells of glad tears. + +The owner of the horse ranch stood on the porch and watched a rider +coming out of the gulch toward him. The man descended heavily from his +horse and moved down the path. Rutherford eyed him grimly. + +"Well, I'm back," the dismounted horseman said surlily. + +"I see you are." + +"Got out of the hospital Thursday." + +"Hope you've made up yore mind to behave, Dan." + +"It doesn't hurt a man to take a drink onc't in a while." + +"Depends on the man. It put you in the hospital." + +Meldrum ripped out a sudden oath. "Wait. Just wait till I get that +pink-ear. I'll drill him full of holes right." + +"By God, you'll not!" Rutherford's voice was like the snap of a whip. +"Try it. Try it. I'll hunt you down like a wolf and riddle yore +carcass." + +In amazement the ex-convict stared at him. "What's ailin' you, +Rutherford?" + +"I'm through with you and Tighe. You'll stop making trouble or you'll +get out of here. I'm going to clean up the park--going to make it a +place where decent folks can live. You've got yore warning now, Dan. +Walk a straight chalk-line or hit the trail." + +"You can't talk that way to me, Rutherford. I know too much," +threatened Meldrum, baring his teeth. + +"Don't think it for a minute, Dan. Who is going to take yore word +against mine? I've got the goods on you. I can put you through for +rustling any time I have a mind to move. And if you don't let young +Beaudry alone, I'll do it." + +"Am I the only man that ever rustled? Ain't there others in the park? +I reckon you've done some night-riding yore own self." + +"Some," drawled Rutherford, with a grim little smile. "By and large, +I've raised a considerable crop of hell. But I'm reforming in my old +age. New Mexico has had a change of heart. Guns are going out, +Meldrum, and little red schoolhouses are coming in. We've got to keep +up with the fashions." + +"Hmp! Schoolhouses! I know what's ailin' you. Since Anse +Rutherford's girl--" + +"You're off the reservation, Dan," warned the rancher, and again his +low voice had the sting of cactus thorns in it. + +Meldrum dropped that subject promptly. "Is Buck going to join this +Sunday-School of yours?" he jeered. "And all the boys?" + +"That's the programme. Won't you come in, too?" + +"And Jess Tighe. He'll likely be one of the teachers." + +"You'd better ask him. He hasn't notified me." + +"Hell! You and yore kin have given the name to deviltry in this +country. Mothers scare their kids by telling them the Rutherfords will +git them." + +"Fact. But that's played out. My boys are grown up and are at the +turn of the trail. It hit me plumb in the face when you fools pulled +off that express robbery. It's a piece of big luck you're not all +headed for the penitentiary. I know when I've had enough. So now I +quit." + +"All right. Quit. But we haven't all got to go to the mourner's bench +with you, have we? You can travel yore trail and we can go ours, can't +we?" + +"Not when we're on the same range, Dan. What I say goes." The eyes of +Rutherford bored into the cruel little shifty ones of the bad man. +"Take yore choice, Dan. It's quit yore deviltry or leave this part of +the country." + +"Who elected you czar of Huerfano Park?" demanded Meldrum, furious with +anger. + +He glared at the ranchman impotently, turned away with a mumbled oath, +and went back with jingling spurs to his horse. + + + + +Chapter XIX + +Beaudry Blows a Smoke Wreath + +Royal Beaudry carried about with him in his work on the Lazy Double D +persistent memories of the sloe-eyed gypsy who had recently played so +large a part in his life. Men of imagination fall in love, not with a +woman, but with the mystery they make of her. The young cattleman was +not yet a lover, but a rumor of the future began to murmur in his ears. +Beulah Rutherford was on the surface very simple and direct, but his +thoughts were occupied with the soul of her. What was the girl like +whose actions functioned in courage and independence and harsh +hostility? + +Life had imposed on her a hard finish. But it was impossible for Roy +to believe that this slender, tawny child of the wind and the sun could +at heart be bitter and suspicious. He had seen the sweet look of her +dark-lashed eyes turned in troubled appeal upon her father. There had +been one hour when he had looked into her face and found it radiant, +all light and response and ecstasy. The emotion that had pulsed +through her then had given the lie to the sullen silence upon which she +fell back as a defense. If the gods were good to her some day, the red +flower of passion would bloom on her cheeks and the mists that dulled +her spirit would melt in the warm sunshine of love. + +So the dreamer wove the web of his fancy about her, and the mystery +that was Beulah Rutherford lay near his thoughts when he walked or rode +or ate or talked. + +Nor did it lessen his interest in her that he felt she despised him. +The flash of her scornful eyes still stung him. He was beyond caring +whether she thought him a spy. He knew that the facts justified him in +his attempt to save Dingwell. But he writhed that she should believe +him a coward. It came too close home. And since the affray in the +arcade, no doubt she set him down, too, as a drunken rowdy. + +He made the usual vain valorous resolutions of youth to show her his +heroic quality. These served at least one good purpose. If he could +not control his fears, he could govern his actions. Roy forced himself +by sheer will power to ride alone into Battle Butte once a week. +Without hurry he went about his business up and down Mission Street. + +The town watched him and commented. "Got sand in his craw, young +Beaudry has," was the common verdict. Men wondered what would happen +when he met Charlton and Meldrum. Most of them would have backed John +Beaudry's son both in their hopes and in their opinion of the result. + +Into saloons and gambling-houses word was carried, and from there to +the hillmen of the park by industrious peddlers of trouble, that the +young cattleman from the Lazy Double D could be found by his enemies +heeled for business whenever they wanted him. + +Charlton kept morosely to the park. If he had had nothing to consider +except his own inclination, he would have slapped the saddle upon a +cowpony and ridden in to Battle Butte at once. But Beulah had laid an +interdict upon him. For a year he had been trying to persuade her to +marry him, and he knew that he must say good-bye to his hopes if he +fought with his enemy. + +It was fear that kept Meldrum at home. He had been a killer, but the +men he had killed had been taken at advantage. It was one thing to +shoot this Beaudry cub down from ambush. It was another to meet him in +the open. Moreover, he knew the Rutherfords. The owner of the horse +ranch had laid the law down to him. No chance shot from the chaparral +was to cut down Dingwell's partner. + +The ex-convict listened to the whispers of Tighe. He brooded over +them, but he did not act on them. His alcohol-dulled brain told him +that he had reached the limit of public sufferance. One more killing +by him, and he would pay the penalty at the hands of the law. When he +took his revenge, it must be done so secretly that no evidence could +connect him with the crime. He must, too, have an _alibi_ acceptable +to Hal Rutherford. + +Meldrum carried with him to Battle Butte, on his first trip after the +arcade affair, a fixed determination to avoid Beaudry. In case he met +him, he would pass without speaking. + +But all of Meldrum's resolutions were apt to become modified by +subsequent inhibitions. In company with one or two cronies he made a +tour of the saloons of the town. At each of them he said, "Have +another," and followed his own advice to show good faith. + +On one of these voyages from port to port the bad man from Chicito +Cañon sighted a tall, lean-flanked, long-legged brown man. He was +crossing the street so that the party came face to face with him at the +apex of a right angle. The tanned stranger in corduroys, hickory +shirt, and pinched-in hat of the range rider was Royal Beaudry. It was +with a start of surprise that Meldrum recognized him. His enemy was no +longer a "pink-ear." There was that in his stride, his garb, and the +steady look of his eye which told of a growing confidence and +competence. He looked like a horseman of the plains, fit for any +emergency that might confront him. + +Taken at advantage by the suddenness of the meeting, Meldrum gave +ground with a muttered oath. The young cattleman nodded to the trio +and kept on his way. None of the others knew that his heart was +hammering a tattoo against his ribs or that queer little chills chased +each other down his spine. + +Chet Fox ventured a sly dig at the ex-convict. "Looks a right healthy +sick man, Dan." + +"Who said he was sick?" growled Meldrum. + +"Didn't you-all say he was good as dead?" + +"A man can change his mind, Chet, can't he?" jeered Hart. + +The blotched face of the bad man grew purple. "That'll be about enough +from both of you. But I'll say this: when I get ready to settle with +Mr. Beaudry you can order his coffin." + +Nevertheless, Meldrum had the humiliating sense that he had failed to +live up to his reputation as a killer. He had promised Battle Butte to +give it something to talk about, but he had not meant to let the +whisper pass that he was a four-flusher. His natural recourse was to +further libations. These made for a sullen, ingrowing rage as the day +grew older. + +More than one well-meaning citizen carried to Roy the superfluous +warning that Meldrum was in town and drinking hard. The young man +thanked them quietly without comment. His reticence gave the +impression of strength. + +But Beaudry felt far from easy in mind. A good deal of water had +flowed under the Big Creek bridge since the time when he had looked +under the bed at nights for burglars. He had schooled himself not to +yield to the impulses of his rabbit heart, but the unexpected clatter +of hoofs still set his pulses a-flutter. Why had fate snatched so +gentle a youth from his law desk and flung him into such turbid waters +to sink or swim? All he had asked was peace--friends, books, a quiet +life. By some ironic quirk be found himself in scenes of battle and +turmoil. As the son of John Beaudry he was expected to show an +unflawed nerve, whereas his eager desire was to run away and hide. + +He resisted the first panicky incitement to fly back to the Lazy Double +D, and went doggedly about the business that had brought him to Battle +Butte. Roy had come to meet a cattle-buyer from Denver and the man had +wired that he would be in on the next train. Meanwhile Beaudry had to +see the blacksmith, the feed-store manager, the station agent, and +several others. + +This kept him so busy that he reached the Station only just in time to +meet the incoming train. He introduced himself to the buyer, captured +his suitcase, and turned to lead the way to the rig. + +Meldrum lurched forward to intercept him. "Shus' a moment." + +Roy went white. He knew the crisis was upon him. The right hand of +the hillman was hidden under the breast of his coat. Even the +cattle-buyer from Denver knew what was in that hand and edged toward +the train. For this ruffian was plainly working himself into a rage +sufficient to launch murder. + +"Yore father railroaded me to the penitentiary--cooked up testimony +against me. You bust me with a club when I wasn't looking. Here's +where I git even. See?" + +The imminence of tragedy had swept the space about them empty of +people. Roy knew with a sinking heart that it was between him and the +hillman to settle this alone. He had been caught with the suitcase in +his right hand, so that he was practically trapped unarmed. Before he +could draw his revolver, Meldrum would be pumping lead. + +Two months ago under similar circumstances terror had paralyzed Roy's +thinking power. Now his brain functioned in spite of his fear. He was +shaken to the center of his being, but he was not in panic. +Immediately he set himself to play the poor cards he found in his hand. + +"Liar!" Beaudry heard a chill voice say and knew it was his own. +"Liar on both counts! My father sent you up because you were a thief. +I beat your head off because you are a bully. Listen!" Roy shot the +last word out in crescendo to forestall the result of a convulsive +movement of the hand beneath his enemy's coat. "_Listen, if you want +to live the day out_, you yellow coyote!" + +Beaudry had scored his first point--to gain time for his argument to +get home to the sodden brain. Dave Dingwell had told him that most men +were afraid of something, though some hid it better than others; and he +had added that Dan Meldrum had the murderer's dread lest vengeance +overtake him unexpectedly. Roy knew now that his partner had spoken +the true word. At that last stinging sentence, alarm had jumped to the +blear eyes of the former convict. + +"Whadjamean?" demanded Meldrum thickly, the menace of horrible things +in his voice. + +"Mean? Why, this. You came here to kill me, but you haven't the nerve +to do it. You've reached the end of your rope, Dan Meldrum. You're a +killer, but you'll never kill again. Murder me, and the law would hang +you high as Haman--_if it ever got a chance_." + +The provisional clause came out with a little pause between each word +to stress the meaning. The drunken man caught at it to spur his rage. + +"Hmp! Mean you're man enough to beat the law to it?" + +Beaudry managed to get out a derisive laugh. "Oh, no! Not when I have +a suitcase in my right hand and you have the drop on me. I can't help +myself--_and twenty men see it_." + +"Think they'll help you?" Meldrum swept his hand toward the frightened +loungers and railroad officials. His revolver was out in the open now. +He let its barrel waver in a semi-circle of defiance. + +"No. They won't help me, but they'll hang you. There's no hole where +you can hide that they won't find you. Before night you'll be swinging +underneath the big live-oak on the plaza. That's a prophecy for you to +swallow, you four-flushing bully." + +It went home like an arrow. The furtive eyes of the killer slid +sideways to question this public which had scattered so promptly to +save itself. Would the mob turn on him later and destroy him? + +Young Beaudry's voice flowed on. "Even if you reached the hills, you +would be doomed. Tighe can't save you--and he wouldn't try. +Rutherford would wash his hands of you. They'll drag you back from +your hole." + +The prediction rang a bell in Meldrum's craven soul. Again he sought +reassurance from those about him and found none. In their place he +knew that he would revenge himself for present humiliation by cruelty +later. He was checkmated. + +It was an odd psychological effect of Beaudry's hollow defiance that +confidence flowed in upon him as that of Meldrum ebbed. The chill +drench of fear had lifted from his heart. It came to him that his +enemy lacked the courage to kill. Safety lay in acting upon this +assumption. + +He raised his left hand and brushed the barrel of the revolver aside +contemptuously, then turned and walked along the platform to the +building. At the door he stopped, to lean faintly against the jamb, +still without turning. Meldrum might shoot at any moment. It depended +on how drunk he was, how clearly he could vision the future, how +greatly his prophecy had impressed him. Cold chills ran up and down +the spinal column of the young cattleman. His senses were reeling. + +To cover his weakness Roy drew tobacco from his coat-pocket and rolled +a cigarette with trembling fingers. He flashed a match. A moment +later an insolent smoke wreath rose into the air and floated back +toward Meldrum. Roy passed through the waiting-room to the street +beyond. + +Young Beaudry knew that the cigarette episode had been the weak bluff +of one whose strength had suddenly deserted him. He had snatched at it +to cover his weakness. But to the score or more who saw that spiral of +smoke dissolving jauntily into air, no such thought was possible. The +filmy wreath represented the acme of dare-devil recklessness, the final +proof of gameness in John Beaudry's son. He had turned his back on a +drunken killer crazy for revenge and mocked the fellow at the risk of +his life. + +Presently Roy and the cattle-buyer were bowling down the street behind +Dingwell's fast young four-year-olds. The Denver man did not know that +his host was as weak from the reaction of the strain as a child +stricken with fear. + + + + +Chapter XX + +At the Lazy Double D + +Dingwell squinted over the bunch of cattle in the corral. "Twenty +dollars on the hoof, f.o.b. at the siding," he said evenly. "You to +take the run of the pen, no culls." + +"I heard you before," protested the buyer. "Learn a new song, +Dingwell. I don't like the tune of that one. Make it eighteen and let +me cull the bunch." + +Dave garnered a straw clinging to the fence and chewed it meditatively. +"Couldn't do it without hurting my conscience. Nineteen--no culls. +That's my last word." + +"I'd sure hate to injure your conscience, Dingwell," grinned the man +from Denver. "Think I'll wait till you go to town and do business with +your partner." + +"Think he's easy, do you?" + +"Easy!" The cattle-buyer turned the conversation to the subject +uppermost in his mind. He had already decided to take the cattle and +the formal agreement could wait. "Easy! Say, do you know what I saw +that young man put over to-day at the depot?" + +"I'll know when you've told me," suggested Dingwell. + +The Denver man told his story and added editorial comment. "Gamest +thing I ever saw in my life, by Jiminy--stood there with his back to +the man-killer and lit a cigarette while the ruffian had his finger on +the trigger of a six-gun ready to whang away at him. Can you beat +that?" + +The eyes of the cattleman gleamed, but his drawling voice was still +casual. "Why didn't Meldrum shoot?" + +"Triumph of mind over matter, I reckon. He _wanted_ to shoot--was +crazy to kill your friend. But--he didn't. Beaudry had talked him out +of it." + +"How?" + +"Bullied him out of it--jeered at him and threatened him and man-called +him, with that big gun shining in his eyes every minute of the time." + +Dingwell nodded slowly. He wanted to get the full flavor of this +joyous episode that had occurred. "And the kid lit his cigarette while +Meldrum, crazy as a hydrophobia skunk, had his gun trained on him?" + +"That's right. Stood there with a kind o' you-be-damned placard stuck +all over him, then got out the makings and lit up. He tilted back that +handsome head of his and blew a smoke wreath into the air. Looked like +he'd plumb wiped Mr. Meldrum off his map. He's a world-beater, that +young fellow is--doesn't know what fear is," concluded the buyer sagely. + +"You don't say!" murmured Mr. Dingwell. + +"Sure as you're a foot high. While I was trying to climb up the side +of a railroad car to get out of range, that young guy was figuring it +all out. He was explaining thorough to the bad man what would happen +if he curled his fore-finger another quarter of an inch. Just as cool +and easy, you understand." + +"You mean that he figured out his chances?" + +"You bet you! He figured it all out, played a long shot, and won. The +point is that it wouldn't help him any if this fellow Meldrum starred +in a subsequent lynching. The man had been drinking like a blue +blotter. Had he sense enough left to know his danger? Was his brain +steady enough to hold him in check? Nobody could tell that. But your +partner gambled on it and won." + +This was meat and drink to Dave. He artfully pretended to make light +of the whole affair in order to stir up the buyer to more details. + +"I reckon maybe Meldrum was just bluffing. Maybe--" + +"Bluffing!" The Coloradoan swelled. "Bluffing! I tell you there was +murder in the fellow's eye. He had come there primed for a killing. +If Beaudry had weakened by a hair's breadth, that forty-four would have +pumped lead into his brain. Ask the train crew. Ask the station +agent. Ask any one who was there." + +"Maybeso," assented Dave dubiously. "But if he was so game, why didn't +Beaudry go back and take Meldrum's gun from him?" + +The buyer was on the spot with an eager, triumphant answer. "That just +proves what I claim. He just brushed the fellow's gun aside and acted +like he'd forgot the killer had a gun. 'Course, he could 'a' gone back +and taken the gun. After what he'd already pulled off, that would have +been like stealing apples from a blind Dutchman. But Beaudry wasn't +going to give him that much consideration. Don't you see? Meldrum, or +whatever his name is, was welcome to keep the revolver to play with. +Your friend didn't care how many guns he was toting." + +"I see. It he had taken the gun, Meldrum might have thought he was +afraid of him." + +"Now you're shouting. As it is the bad man is backed clear off the +earth. It's like as if your partner said, 'Garnish yourself with +forty-fours if you like, but don't get gay around me.'" + +"So you think--" + +"I think he's some bear-cat, that young fellow. When you 're looking +for something easy to mix with, go pick a grizzly or a wild cat, but +don't you monkey with friend Beaudry. He's liable to interfere with +your interior geography. . . . Say, Dingwell. Do I get to cull this +bunch of longhorn skeletons you're misnaming cattle?" + +"You do not." + +The Denver man burlesqued a sigh. "Oh, well! I'll go broke dealing +with you unsophisticated Shylocks of the range. The sooner the +quicker. Send 'em down to the siding. I'll take the bunch." + +Roy rode up on a pinto. + +"Help! Help!" pleaded the Coloradoan of the young man. + +"He means that I've unloaded this corral full of Texas dinosaurs on him +at nineteen a throw." explained Dave. + +"You've made a good bargain," Beaudry told the buyer. + +"'Course he has, and he knows it." Dingwell opened on Roy his gay +smile. "I hear you've had a run-in with the bad man of Chicito Cañon, +son." + +Roy looked at the Denver man reproachfully. Ever since the affair on +the station platform he had been flogging himself because he had driven +away and left Meldrum in possession of the field. No doubt all Battle +Butte knew now how frightened he had been. The women were gossiping +about it over their tea, probably, and men were retailing the story in +saloons and on sidewalks. + +"I didn't want any trouble," he said apologetically. "I--I just left +him." + +"That's what I've been hearing," assented Dave dryly. "You merely +showed him up for a false alarm and kicked him into the discard. +That's good, and it's bad. We know now that Meldrum won't fight you in +the open. You've got him buffaloed. But he'll shoot you in the back +if he can do it safely. I know the cur. After this don't ride alone, +Roy, and don't ride that painted hoss at all. Get you a nice quiet +buckskin that melts into the atmosphere like a patch of bunch grass. +Them's my few well-chosen words of advice, as Mañana Bill used to say." + +Three days later Beaudry, who had been superintending the extension of +an irrigation ditch, rode up to the porch of the Lazy Double D ranch +house and found Hal Rutherford, senior, with his chair tilted back +against the wall. The smoke of his pipe mingled fraternally with that +of Dingwell's cigar. He nodded genially to Roy without offering to +shake hands. + +"Mr. Rutherford dropped in to give us the latest about Meldrum," +explained Dave. "Seems he had warned our friend the crook to lay off +you, son. When Dan showed up again at the park, he bumped into Miss +Beulah and said some pleasant things to her. He hadn't noticed that +Jeff was just round the corner of the schoolhouse fixing up some dingus +as a platform for the last day's speaking. Jeff always was hot-headed. +Before he had got through with Mr. Meldrum, he had mussed his hair up +considerable. Dan tried to gun him and got an awful walloping. He hit +the trail to Jess Tighe's place. When Mr. Rutherford heard of it, he +was annoyed. First off, because of what had happened at the depot. +Second, and a heap more important, because the jailbird had threatened +Miss Beulah. So he straddled a horse and called on Dan, who shook the +dust of Huerfano Park from his bronco's hoofs _poco tiempo_." + +"Where has he gone?" asked Roy. + +"Nobody knows, and he won't tell. But, knowing Meldrum as we do, +Rutherford and I have come to a coincidentical opinion, as you might +say. He's a bad actor, that bird. We figure that he's waiting in the +chaparral somewhere to pull off a revenge play, after which he means +_pronto_ to slide his freight across the line to the land of old Porf. +Diaz." + +"Revenge--on Jeff Rutherford--or who?" + +"Son, that's a question. But Jeff won't be easily reached. On the +whole, we think you're elected." + +Roy's heart sank. If Meldrum had been kicked out of Huerfano Park, +there was no room for him in New Mexico. Probably the fear of the +Rutherfords had been a restraint upon him up to this time. But now +that he had broken with them and was leaving the country, the man was +free to follow the advice of Tighe. He was a bully whose prestige was +tottering. It was almost sure that he would attempt some savage act of +reprisal before he left. Beaudry had no doubt that he would be the +victim of it. + +"What am I to do, then?" he wanted to know, his voice quavering. + +"Stay right here at the ranch. Don't travel from the house till we +check up on Meldrum. Soon as he shows his hand, we'll jump him and run +him out of the country. All you've got to do is to sit tight till we +locate him." + +"I'll not leave the house," Roy vowed fervently. + + + + +Chapter XXI + +Roy Rides his Paint Hoss + +But he did. + +For next day Pat Ryan rode up to the Lazy Double D with a piece of news +that took Roy straight to his pinto. Beulah Rutherford had +disappeared. She had been out riding and Blacky had come home with an +empty saddle. So far as was known, Brad Charlton had seen her last. +He had met her just above the Laguna Sinks, had talked with her, and +had left the young woman headed toward the mountains. + +The word had reached Battle Butte through Slim Sanders, who had been +sent down from Huerfano Park for help. The Rutherfords and their +friends were already combing the hills for the lost girl, but the owner +of the horse ranch wanted Sheriff Sweeney to send out posses as a +border patrol. Opinion was divided. Some thought Beulah might have +met a grizzly, been unhorsed, and fallen a victim to it. There was the +possibility that she might have stumbled while climbing and hurt +herself. According to Sanders, her father held to another view. He +was convinced that Meldrum was at the bottom of the thing. + +This was Roy's instant thought, too. He could not escape the sinister +suggestion that through the girl the ruffian had punished them all. +While he gave sharp, short orders to get together the riders of the +ranch, his mind was busy with the situation. Had he better join +Sweeney's posse and patrol the desert? Or would he help more by +pushing straight into the hills? + +Dingwell rode up and looked around in surprise. "What's the stir, son?" + +His partner told him what he had heard and what he suspected. + +Before he answered, Dave chewed a meditative cud. "Maybeso you're +right--and maybe 'way off. Say you're wrong. Say Meldrum has nothing +to do with this. In that case it is in the hills that we have got to +find Miss Beulah." + +"But he has. I feel sure he has. Mr. Ryan says Rutherford thinks so, +too." + +"Both you and Hal have got that crook Meldrum in yore minds. You've +been thinking a lot about him, so you jump to the conclusion that what +you're afraid of has happened. The chances are ten to one against it. +But we'll say you're right. Put yourself in Meldrum's place. What +would he do?" + +Beaudry turned a gray, agonized face on his friend. "I don't know. +What--what would he do?" + +"The way to get at it is to figure yourself in his boots. Remember +that you're a bad, rotten lot, cur to the bone. You meet up with this +girl and get her in yore power. You've got a grudge against her +because she spoiled yore plans, and because through her you were handed +the whaling of yore life and are being hounded out of the country. +You're sore clear through at all her people and at all her friends. +Naturally, you're as sweet-tempered as a sore-headed bear, and you've +probably been drinking like a sheepherder on a spree." + +"I know what a devil he is. The question is how far would he dare go?" + +"You've put yore finger right on the point, son. What might restrain +him wouldn't be any moral sense, but fear. He knows that once he +touched Miss Rutherford, this country would treat him like a +rattlesnake. He could not even be sure that the Rutherfords would not +hunt him down in Mexico." + +"You think he would let her alone, then?" + +The old-timer shook his head. "No, he wouldn't do that. But I reckon +he'd try to postpone a decision as long as he could. Unless he +destroyed her in the first rush of rage, he wouldn't have the nerve to +do it until he had made himself crazy drunk. It all depends on +circumstances, but my judgment is--if he had a chance and if he didn't +think it too great a risk--that he would try to hold her a prisoner as +a sort of hostage to gloat over." + +"You mean keep her--unharmed?" + +They were already in the saddle and on the road. Dave looked across at +his white-faced friend. + +"I'm only guessing, Roy, but that's the way I figure it," he said +gently. + +"You don't think he would try to take her across the desert with him to +Mexico." + +Ryan shook his head. + +"No chance. He couldn't make it. When he leaves the hills, Miss +Rutherford will stay there." + +"Alive?" asked Beaudry from a dry throat. + +"Don't know." + +"God!" + +"So that whether Miss Beulah did or did not meet Meldrum, we have to +look for her up among the mountains of the Big Creek watershed," +concluded Dingwell. "I believe we'll find her safe and sound. Chances +are Meldrum isn't within forty miles of her." + +They were riding toward Lonesome Park, from which they intended to work +up into the hills. Just before reaching the rim of the park, they +circled around a young pine lying across the trail. Roy remembered the +tree. It had stood on a little knoll, strong and graceful, reaching +straight toward heaven with a kind of gallant uprightness. Now its +trunk was snapped, its boughs crushed, its foliage turning sere. An +envious wind had brought it low. Somehow that pine reminded Beaudry +poignantly of the girl they were seeking. She, too, had always stood +aloof, a fine and vital personality, before the eyes of men sufficient +to herself. But as the evergreen had stretched its hundred arms toward +light and sunshine, so Beulah Rutherford had cried dumbly to life for +some vague good she could not formulate. + +Were her pride and courage abased, too? Roy would not let himself +believe it. The way of youth is to deny the truth of all signposts +which point to the futility of beauty and strength. It would be a kind +of apostasy to admit that her sweet, lissom grace might be forever +crushed and bruised. + +They rode hard and steadily. Before dusk they were well up toward the +divide among the wooded pockets of the hills. From one of these a man +came to meet them. + +"It's Hal Rutherford," announced Ryan, who was riding in front with +Dingwell. + +The owner of the horse ranch nodded a greeting as he drew up in front +of them. He was unshaven and gaunt. Furrows of anxiety lined his face. + +"Anything new, Hal?" asked Dave. + +"Not a thing. We're combing the hills thorough." + +"You don't reckon that maybe a cougar--?" Ryan stopped. It occurred +to him that his suggestion was not a very cheerful one. + +Rutherford looked at the little Irishman from bleak eyes. The misery +in them was for the moment submerged in a swift tide of hate. "A +two-legged cougar, Pat. If I meet up with him, I'll take his hide off +inch by inch." + +"Meaning Meldrum?" asked Roy. + +"Meaning Meldrum." A spasm of pain shot across the face of the man. +"If he's done my little girl any meanness, he'd better blow his head +off before I get to him." + +"Don't believe he'd dare hurt Miss Beulah, Rutherford. Meldrum belongs +to the coyote branch of the wolf family. I've noticed it's his night +to howl only when hunters are liable to be abed. If he's in this thing +at all, I'll bet he's trying to play both ends against the middle. +We'll sure give him a run for his white alley," Dingwell concluded. + +"Hope you're right, Dave," Rutherford added in a voice rough with the +feeling he could not suppress: "I appreciate it that you boys from the +Lazy Double D came after what has taken place." + +Dave grinned cheerfully. "Sho, Hal! Maybe Beaudry and I aren't +sending any loving-cups up to you and yours, but we don't pull any of +that sulk-in-the-tent stuff when our good friend Beulah Rutherford is +lost in the hills. She went through for us proper, and we ain't going +to quit till we bring her back to you as peart and sassy as that calf +there." + +"What part of the country do you want us to work?" asked Ryan. + +"You can take Del Oro and Lame Cow Creeks from the divide down to the +foothills," Rutherford answered. "I'll send one of the boys over to +boss the round-up. He'll know the ground better than you lads. Make +camp here to-night and he'll join you before you start. To-morrow +evening I'll have a messenger meet you on the flats. We're trying to +keep in touch with each other, you understand." + +Rutherford left them making camp. They were so far up in the mountains +that the night was cool, even though the season was midsummer. Unused +to sleeping outdoors as yet, Roy lay awake far into the night. His +nerves were jumpy. The noises of the grazing horses and of the +four-footed inhabitants of the night startled him more than once from a +cat-nap. His thoughts were full of Beulah Rutherford. Was she alive +or dead to-night, in peril or in safety? + +At last, in the fag end of the night, he fell into sound sleep that was +untroubled. From this he was wakened in the first dim dawn by the +sound of his companions stirring. A fire was already blazing and +breakfast in process of making. He rose and stretched his stiff limbs. +Every bone seemed to ache from contact with the hard ground. + +While they were eating breakfast, a man rode up and dismounted. A +long, fresh zigzag scar stretched across his forehead. It was as plain +to be seen as the scowl which drew his heavy eyebrows together. + +"'Lo, Charlton. Come to boss this round-up for us?" asked Dingwell +cheerily. + +The young man nodded sulkily. "Hal sent me. The boys weren't with +him." He looked across the fire at Beaudry, and there was smouldering +rage in his narrowed eyes. + +Roy murmured "Good-morning" in a rather stifled voice. This was the +first time he had met Charlton since they had clashed in the arcade of +the Silver Dollar. That long deep scar fascinated him. He felt an +impulse to apologize humbly for having hit him so hard. To put such a +mark on a man for life was a liberty that might well be taken as a +personal affront. No wonder Charlton hated him--and as their eyes met +now, Roy had no doubt about that. The man was his enemy. Some day he +would even the score. Again Beaudry's heart felt the familiar drench +of an icy wave. + +Charlton did not answer his greeting. He flushed to his throat, turned +abruptly on his heel, and began to talk with Ryan. The hillman wanted +it clearly understood that the feud he cherished was only temporarily +abandoned. But even Roy noticed that the young Admirable Crichton had +lost some of his debonair aplomb. + +The little Irishman explained this with a grin to Dave as they were +riding together half an hour later. "It's not so easy to get away with +that slow insolence of his while he's wearing that forgit-me-not young +Beaudry handed him in the mix-up." + +"Sort of spoils the toutensemble, as that young Melrose tenderfoot used +to say--kinder as if a bald-haided guy was playing Romeo and had lost +his wig in the shuffle," agreed Dave. + +By the middle of the forenoon they were well up in the headwaters of +the two creeks they were to work. Charlton divided the party so as to +cover both watersheds as they swept slowly down. Roy was on the +extreme right of those working Del Oro. + +It was a rough country, with wooded draws cached in unexpected pockets +of the hills. Here a man might lie safely on one of a hundred ledges +while the pursuit drove past within fifty feet of him. As Roy's pinto +clambered up and down the steep hills, he recalled the advice of Dave +to ride a buckskin "that melts into the atmosphere like a patch of +bunch grass." He wished he had taken that advice. A man looking for +revenge could crouch in the chaparral and with a crook of his finger +send winged death at his enemy. A twig crackling under the hoof of his +horse more than once sent an electric shock through his pulses. The +crash of a bear through the brush seemed to stop the beating of his +heart. + +Charlton had made a mistake in putting Beaudry on the extreme right of +the drive. The number of men combing the two creeks was not enough to +permit close contact. Sometimes a rider was within hail of his +neighbor. More often he was not. Roy, unused to following the rodeo, +was deflected by the topography of the ridge so far to the right that +he lost touch with the rest. + +By the middle of the afternoon he had to confess to himself with +chagrin that he did not even know how to reach Del Oro. While he had +been riding the rough wooded ridge above, the creek had probably made a +sharp turn to the left. Must he go back the way he had come? Or could +he cut across country to it? It was humiliating that he could not even +follow a small river without losing the stream and himself. He could +vision the cold sneer of Charlton when he failed to appear at the night +rendezvous. Even his friends would be annoyed at such helplessness. + +After an hour's vain search he was more deeply tangled in the web of +hills. He was no longer even sure how to get down from them into the +lower reaches of country toward which he was aiming. + +While he hesitated on a ridge there came to him a faint, far cry. He +gave a shout of relief, then listened for his answer. It did not come. +He called again, a third time, and a fourth. The wind brought back no +reply. Roy rode in the direction of the sound that had first +registered itself on his ears, stopping every minute or two to shout. +Once he fancied he heard again the voice. + +Then, unexpectedly, the cry came perfectly clear, over to the right +scarcely a hundred yards. A little arroyo of quaking aspens lay +between him and the one who called. He dismounted, tied his horse to a +sapling, and pushed through the growth of young trees. Emerging from +these, he climbed the brow of the hill and looked around. Nobody was +in sight. + +"Where are you?" he shouted. + +"Here--in the prospect hole." + +His pulses crashed. That voice--he would have known it out of a +million. + +A small dirt dump on the hillside caught his eye. He ran forward to +the edge of a pit and looked down. + +The haggard eyes of Beulah Rutherford were lifted to meet his. + + + + +Chapter XXII + +Miss Rutherford Speaks her Mind + +For the first time in over a year an itinerant preacher was to hold +services in the Huerfano Park schoolhouse. He would speak, Beulah +Rutherford knew, to a mere handful of people, and it was to mitigate +his disappointment that she rode out into the hills on the morning of +her disappearance to find an armful of columbines for decorating the +desk-pulpit. The man had written Miss Rutherford and asked her to +notify the community. She had seen that the news was carried to the +remotest ranch, but she expected for a congregation only a scatter of +patient women and restless children with three or four coffee-brown +youths in high-heeled boots on the back row to represent the sinners. + +It was a brave, clean world into which she rode this summer morning. +The breeze brought to her nostrils the sweet aroma of the sage. Before +her lifted the saw-toothed range into a sky of blue sprinkled here and +there with light mackerel clouds. Blacky pranced with fire and +intelligence, eager to reach out and leave behind him the sunny miles. + +Near the upper end of the park she swung up an arroyo that led to Big +Flat Top. A drawling voice stopped her. + +"Oh, you, Beulah Rutherford! Where away this glad mo'ning?" + +A loose-seated rider was lounging in the saddle on a little bluff fifty +yards away. His smile reminded her of a new copper kettle shining in +the sun. + +"To find columbines for church decorations," she said with an answering +smile. + +"Have you been building a church since I last met up with you?" + +"There will be services in the schoolhouse tomorrow at three P.M., +conducted by the Reverend Melancthon Smith. Mr. Charlton is especially +invited to attend." + +"Maybe I'll be there. You can't sometimes 'most always tell. I'm +going to prove I've got nothing against religion by going with you to +help gather the pulpit decorations." + +"That's very self-sacrificing of you." She flashed a look of gay +derision at him as he joined her. "Sure you can afford to waste so +much time?" + +"I don't call it wasted. But since you've invited me so hearty to your +picnic, I'd like to be sure you've got grub enough in the chuck wagon +for two," he said with a glance at her saddle-bags. + +"I'm not sure. Maybe you had better not come." + +"Oh, I'm coming if you starve me. Say, Beulah, have you heard about +Jess Tighe?" + +"What about him?" + +"He had a stroke last night. Doc Spindler thinks he won't live more +than a few hours." + +Beulah mused over that for a few moments without answer. She had no +liking for the man, but it is the way of youth to be shocked at the +approach of death. Yet she knew this would help to clear up the +situation. With the evil influence of Tighe removed, there would be a +chance for the park to develop along more wholesome lines. He had been +like a sinister shadow that keeps away the sunlight. + +She drew a deep breath. "I don't wish him any harm. But it will be a +good thing for all of us when he can't make us more sorrow and trouble." + +"He never made me any," Charlton answered. + +"Didn't he?" She looked steadily across at him. "You can't tell me he +didn't plan that express robbery, for instance." + +"Meaning that I was in the party that pulled it off?" he asked, +flushing. + +"I know well enough you were in it--knew it all along. It's the sort +of thing you couldn't keep out of." + +"How about Ned? Do you reckon he could keep out of it?" She detected +rising anger beneath his controlled voice. + +"Not with you leading him on." Her eyes poured scorn on him. "And I'm +sure he would appreciate your loyalty in telling me he was in it." + +"Why do you jump on me, then?" he demanded sulkily. "And I didn't say +Ned was in that hold-up--any more than I admit having been in it +myself. Are you trying to make trouble with me? Is that it?" + +"I don't care whether I make trouble with you or not. I'm not going to +pretend and make-believe, if that's what you want. I don't have to do +it." + +"I see you don't," he retorted bluntly. "I suppose you don't have to +mind your own business either." + +"It is my business when Ned follows you into robbery." + +"Maybe I followed him," he jeered. + +She bit back the tart answer on her tongue. What was the use of +quarreling? It used to be that they were good friends, but of late +they jangled whenever they met. Ever since the Western Express affair +she had held a grudge at him. Six months ago she had almost promised +to marry him. Now nothing was farther from her thoughts. + +But he was still very much of the mind that she should. + +"What's the matter with you, Boots?" he wanted to know roughly. "You +used to have some sense. You weren't always flying out at a fellow. +Now there's no way of pleasing you." + +"I suppose it is odd that I don't want my friends to be thieves," she +flung out bitterly. + +"Don't use that word if you mean me," he ordered. + +"What word shall I substitute?" + +He barely suppressed an oath. "I know what's ailing you? We're not +smooth enough up here for you. We're not educated up to your standard. +If I'd been to Cornell, say--" + +"Take care," she warned with a flash of anger in her black eyes. + +"Oh, I don't know. Why should I cull my words so careful? I notice +yours ain't hand-picked. Ever since this guy Beaudry came spying into +the park, you've had no use for me. You have been throwing yourself at +his head and couldn't see any one else." + +She gasped. "How dare you, Brad Charlton?" + +His jealousy swept away the prudence that had dammed his anger. +"Didn't you take him out driving? Didn't you spend a night alone with +him and Dave Dingwell? Didn't you hot-foot it down to Hart's because +you was afraid yore precious spy would meet up with what he deserved?" + +Beulah drew up Blacky abruptly. "Now you can leave me. Don't stop to +say good-bye. I hate you. I don't ever want to see you again." + +He had gone too far and he knew it. Sulkily he began to make his +apology. "You know how fond I am of you, Boots. You know--" + +"Yes, I ought to. I've heard it often enough," she interrupted curtly. +"That's probably why you insult me?" + +Her gypsy eyes stabbed him. She was furiously angry. He attempted to +explain. "Now, listen here, Beulah. Let's be reasonable." + +"Are you going up or down?" she demanded. "I'm going the other way. +Take one road or the other, you--you scandalmonger." + +Never a patient man, he too gave rein to his anger. "Since you want to +know, I'm going down--to Battle Butte, where I'll likely meet yore +friend Beaudry and settle an account or two with him. I reckon before +I git through with him he'll yell something besides Cornell." + +The girl laughed scornfully. "Last time I saw him he had just beaten a +dozen or so of you. How many friends are you going to take along this +trip?" + +Already her horse was taking the trail. She called the insult down to +him over her shoulder. But before she had gone a half-mile her eyes +were blind with tears. Why did she get so angry? Why did she say such +things? Other girls were ladylike and soft-spoken. Was there a streak +of commonness in her that made possible such a scene as she had just +gone through? In her heart she longed to be a lady--gentle, refined, +sweet of spirit. Instead of which she was a bad-tempered tomboy. +"Miss Spitfire" her brothers sometimes called her, and she knew the +name was justified. + +Take this quarrel now with Brad. She had had no intention of breaking +with him in that fashion. Why couldn't she dismiss a lover as girls in +books do, in such a way as to keep him for a friend? She had not +meant, anyhow, to bring the matter to issue to-day. One moment they +had been apparently the best of comrades. The next they had been +saying hateful things to each other. What he had said was +unforgivable, but she had begun by accusing him of complicity in the +train robbery. Knowing how arrogant he was, she might have guessed how +angry criticism would make him. + +Yet she was conscious of a relief that it was over with at last. +Charlton was proud. He would leave her alone unless she called him to +her side. Her tears were for the humiliating way in which they had +wrenched apart rather than for the fact of the break. + +She knew his temper. Nothing on earth could keep him from flying at +the throat of Roy Beaudry now. Well, she had no interest in either of +them, she reminded herself impatiently. It was none of her business +how they settled their differences. Yet, as Blacky followed the stiff +trail to Big Flat Top, her mind was wretchedly troubled. + +Beulah had expected to find her columbines in a gulch back of Big Flat +Top, but the flowers were just past their prime here. The petals fell +fluttering at her touch. She hesitated. Of course, she did not have +to get columbines for the preaching service. Sweet-peas would do very +well. But she was a young woman who did not like to be beaten. She +had plenty of time, and she wanted an excuse to be alone all day. Why +not ride over to Del Oro Creek, where the season was later and the +columbines would be just coming on? + +The ayes had it, and presently Miss Rutherford was winding deeper into +the great hills that skirted Flat Top. Far in the gulches, dammed by +the small thick timber, she came on patches of snow upon which the sun +never shone. Once a ptarmigan started from the brush at her feet. An +elk sprang up from behind a log, stared at her, and crashed away +through the fallen timber. + +Her devious road took Beulah past a hill flaming with goldenrod and +Indian paint-brushes. A wealth of color decorated every draw, for up +here at the roots of the peaks blossoms rioted in great splashes that +ran to the snowbanks. + +After all, she had to go lower for her favorite blooms. On Del Oro she +found columbines, but in no great profusion. She wandered from the +stream, leading Blacky by the bridle. On a hillside just above an +aspen grove the girl came upon scattered clumps of them. Tying the +pony loosely to a clump of bushes, she began to gather the delicate +blue wild flowers. + +The blossoms enticed her feet to the edge of a prospect hole long since +abandoned. A clump of them grew from the side of the pit about a foot +below the level of the ground. Beulah reached for them, and at the +same moment the ground caved beneath her feet. She clutched at a bush +in vain as she plunged down. + +Jarred by the fall, Beulah lay for a minute in a huddle at the bottom +of the pit. She was not quite sure that no bones were broken. Before +she had time to make certain, a sound brought her rigidly to her feet. +It was a light loose sound like the shaking of dried peas in their +pods. No dweller of the outdoors Southwest could have failed to +recognize it, and none but would have been startled by it. + +The girl whipped her revolver from its scabbard and stood pressed +against the rock wall while her eyes searched swiftly the prison into +which she had fallen. Again came that light swift rattle with its +sinister menace. + +The enemy lay coiled across the pit from her, head and neck raised, +tongue vibrating. Beulah fired--once--twice--a third time. It was +enough. The rattlesnake ceased writhing. + +The first thing she did was to examine every inch of her prison to make +sure there were no more rattlers. Satisfied as to this, she leaned +faintly against the wall. The experience had been a shock even to her +sound young nerves. + + + + +Chapter XXIII + +In the Pit + +Beulah shut her eyes to steady herself. From the impact of her fall +she was still shaken. Moreover, though she had shot many a +rattlesnake, this was the first time she had ever been flung head first +into the den of one. It would have been easy to faint, but she denied +herself the luxury of it and resolutely fought back the swimming +lightness in her head. + +Presently she began to take stock of her situation. The prospect hole +was circular in form, about ten feet across and nine feet deep. The +walls were of rock and smooth clay. Whatever timbering had been left +by the prospector was rotted beyond use. It crumbled at the weight of +her foot. + +How was she to get out? Of course, she would find some way, she told +herself. But how? Blacky was tied to a bush not fifty yards away, and +fastened to the saddle horn was the rope that would have solved her +problem quickly enough. If she had it here--But it might as well be at +Cheyenne for all the good it would do her now. + +Perhaps she could dig footholds in the wall by means of which she could +climb out. Unbuckling the spur from her heel, she used the rowel as a +knife to jab a hole in the clay. After half an hour of persistent work +she looked at the result in dismay. She had gouged a hollow, but it +was not one where her foot could rest while she made steps above. + +Every few minutes Beulah stopped work to shout for help. It was not +likely that anybody would be passing. Probably she had been the only +person on this hill for months. But she dared not miss any chance. + +For it was coming home to her that she might die of starvation in this +prison long before her people found the place. By morning search +parties would be out over the hills looking for her. But who would +think to find her away over on Del Oro? If Brad had carried out his +threat immediately and gone down to Battle Butte, nobody would know +even the general direction in which to seek. + +With every hour Beulah grew more troubled. Late in the afternoon she +fired a fourth shot from her revolver in the hope that some one might +hear the sound and investigate. The sun set early for her. She +watched its rays climb the wall of her prison while she worked +half-heartedly with the spur. After a time the light began to fade, +darkness swept over the land, and she had to keep moving in order not +to chill. + +Never had she known such a night. It seemed to the tortured girl that +morning would never come. She counted the stars above her. Sometimes +there were more. Sometimes fewer. After an eternity they began to +fade out in the sky. Day was at hand. + +She fired the fifth shot from her revolver. Her voice was hoarse from +shouting, but she called every few minutes. Then, when she was at the +low ebb of hope, there came an answer to her call. She fired her last +shot. She called and shouted again and again. The voice that came +back to her was close at hand. + +"I'm down in the prospect hole," she cried. Another moment, and she +was looking up into the face of a man, Dan Meldrum. In vacant +astonishment he gazed down at her. + +"Whad you doing here?" he asked roughly. + +"I fell in. I've been here all night." Her voice broke a little. +"Oh, I'm so glad you've come." + +It was of no importance that he was a man she detested, one who had +quarreled with her father and been thrashed by her brother for +insulting her. All she thought of was that help had come to her at +last and she was now safe. + +He stared down at her with a kind of drunken malevolence. + +"So you fell in, eh?" + +"Yes. Please help me out right away. My riata is tied to Blacky's +saddle." + +He looked around. "Where?" + +"Isn't Blacky there? He must have broken loose, then. Never mind. +Pass me down the end of a young sapling and you can pull me up." + +"Can I?" + +For the first time she felt a shock of alarm. There was in his voice +something that chilled her, something inexpressibly cruel. + +"I'll see my father rewards you. I'll see you get well paid," she +promised, and the inflection of the words was an entreaty. + +"You will, eh?" + +"Anything you want," she hurried on. "Name it. If we can give it to +you, I promise it." + +His drunken brain was functioning slowly. This was the girl who had +betrayed him up in Chicito Cañon, the one who had frustrated his +revenge at Hart's. On account of her young Rutherford had given him +the beating of his life and Hal had driven him from Huerfano Park. +First and last she was the rock upon which his fortunes had split. Now +chance had delivered her into his hands. What should he do with her? +How could he safely make the most of the opportunity? + +It did not for an instant occur to him to haul her from the pit and +send her rejoicing on the homeward way. He intended to make her pay in +full. But how? How get his revenge and not jeopardize his own safety? + +"Won't you hurry, please?" she pleaded. "I'm hungry--and thirsty. +I've been here all night and most of yesterday. It's been . . . rather +awful." + +He rubbed his rough, unshaven cheek while his little pig eyes looked +down into hers. "That so? Well, I dunno as it's any business of mine +where you spend the night or how long you stay there. I had it put up +to me to lay off 'n interfering with you. Seems like yore family got +notions I was insulting you. That young bully Jeff jumped me whilst I +wasn't looking and beat me up. Hal Rutherford ordered me to pull my +freight. That's all right. I won't interfere in what don't concern +me. Yore family says 'Hands off!' Fine. Suits me. Stay there or get +out. It's none of my business. See?" + +"You don't mean you'll . . . leave me here?" she cried in horror. + +"Sure," he exulted. "If I pulled you out of there, like as not you'd +have me beat up again. None o' my business! That's what yore folks +have been drilling into me. I reckon they're right. Anyhow, I'll play +it safe." + +"But--Oh, you can't do that. Even you can't do such a thing," she +cried desperately. "Why, men don't do things like that." + +"Don't they? Watch me, missie." He leaned over the pit, his broken, +tobacco-stained teeth showing in an evil grin. "Just keep an eye on +yore Uncle Dan. Nobody ever yet done me a meanness and got away with +it. I reckon the Rutherfords won't be the first. It ain't on the +cyards," he boasted. + +"You're going away . . . to leave me here . . . to starve?" + +"Who said anything about going away? I'll stick around for a while. +It's none of my business whether you starve or live high. Do just as +you please about that. I'll let you alone, like I promised Jeff I +would. You Rutherfords have got no call to object to being starved, +anyhow. _Whad you do to Dave Dingwell in Chicito_?" + +After all, she was only a girl in spite of her little feminine +ferocities and her pride and her gameness. She had passed through a +terrible experience, had come out of it to apparent safety and had been +thrown back into despair. It was natural that sobs should shake her +slender body as she leaned against the quartz wall of her prison and +buried her head in her forearm. + +When presently the sobs grew fewer and less violent, Beulah became +aware without looking up that her tormentor had taken away his +malignant presence. This was at first a relief, but as the hours +passed an acute fear seized her. Had he left her alone to die? In +spite of her knowledge of the man, she had clung to the hope that he +would relent. But if he had gone-- + +She began again to call at short intervals for help. Sometimes tears +of self-pity choked her voice. More than once she beat her brown fists +against the rock in an ecstasy of terror. + +Then again he was looking down at her, a hulk of venom, eyes bleared +with the liquor he had been drinking. + +"Were you calling me, missie?" he jeered. + +"Let me out," she demanded. "When my brothers find me--" + +"If they find you," he corrected with a hiccough. + +"They'll find me. By this time everybody in Huerfano Park is searching +for me. Before night half of Battle Butte will be in the saddle. +Well, when they find me, do you think you won't be punished for this?" + +"For what?" demanded the man. "You fell in. I haven't touched you." + +"Will that help you, do you think?" + +His rage broke into speech. "You're aimin' to stop my clock, are you? +Take another guess, you mischief-making vixen. What's to prevent me +from emptying my forty-four into you when I get good and ready, then +hitting the trail for Mexico?" + +She knew he was speaking the thoughts that had been drifting through +his mind in whiskey-lit ruminations. That he was a wanton killer she +had always heard. If he could persuade himself it could be done with +safety, he would not hesitate to make an end of her. + +This was the sort of danger she could fight against--and she did. + +"I'll tell you what's to prevent you," she flung back, as it were in a +kind of careless scorn. "Your fondness for your worthless hide. If +they find me shot to death, they will know who did it. You couldn't +hide deep enough in Chihuahua to escape them. My father would never +rest till he had made an end of you." + +Her argument sounded appallingly reasonable to him. He knew the +Rutherfords. They would make him pay his debt to them with usury. + +To stimulate his mind he took another drink, after which he stared down +at her a long time in sullen, sulky silence. She managed at the same +time to irritate him and tempt him and fill his coward heart with fear +of consequences. Through the back of his brain from the first there +had been filtering thoughts that were like crouching demons. They +reached toward her and drew back in alarm. He was too white-livered to +go through with his villainy boldly. + +He recorked the bottle and put it in his hip pocket. "'Nough said," he +blustered. "Me, I'll git on my hawss and be joggin' along to Mex. +I'll take chances on their finding you before you're starved. After +that it won't matter to me when they light on yore body." + +"Oh, yes, it will," she corrected him promptly, "I'm going to write a +note and tell just what has happened. It will be found beside me in +case they . . . don't reach here in time." + +The veins in his blotched face stood out as he glared down at her while +he adjusted himself to this latest threat. Here, too, she had him. He +had gone too far. Dead or alive, she was a menace to his safety. + +Since he must take a chance, why not take a bigger one, why not follow +the instigation of the little crouching devils in his brain? He leered +down at her with what was meant to be an ingratiating smile. + +"Sho! What's the use of we 'uns quarreling, Miss Beulah? I ain't got +nothing against you. Old Dan he always liked you fine. I reckon you +didn't know that, did you?" + +Her quick glance was in time to catch his face napping. The keen eyes +of the girl pounced on his and dragged from them a glimpse of the +depraved soul of the ruffian. Silently and warily she watched him. + +"I done had my little joke, my dear," he went on. "Now we'll be heap +good friends. Old Dan ain't such a bad sort. There's lots of folks +worse than Dan. That's right. Now, what was that you said a while ago +about giving me anything I wanted?" + +"I said my father would pay you anything in reason." Her throat was +parched, but her eyes were hard and bright. No lithe young panther of +the forest could have been more alert than she. + +"Leave yore dad out of it. He ain't here, and, anyway, I ain't having +any truck with him. Just say the word, Miss Beulah, and I'll git a +pole and haul you up in a jiffy." + +Beulah made a mistake. She should have waited till she was out of the +pit before she faced the new issue. But her horror of the man was +overpowering. She unscabbarded swiftly the revolver at her side and +lifted it defiantly toward him. + +"I'll stay here." + +Again he foamed into rage. The girl had stalemated him once more. +"Then stay, you little wild cat. You've had yore chance. I'm through +with you." He bared his teeth in a snarling grin and turned his back +on her. + +Beulah heard him slouching away. Presently there came the sound of a +furiously galloping horse. The drumming of the hoofbeats died in the +distance. + +During the rest of the day she saw no more of the man. It swept over +her toward evening in a wave of despair that he had left her to her +fate. + + + + +Chapter XXIV + +The Bad Man Decides not to Shoot + +Beulah woke from a sleep of exhaustion to a world into which the +morning light was just beginning to sift. The cold had penetrated to +her bones. She was stiff and cramped and sore from the pressure of the +rock bed against her tender young flesh. For nearly two days she had +been without food or drink. The urge of life in her was at low tide. + +But the traditions among which she had been brought up made pluck a +paramount virtue. She pushed from her the desire to weep in self-pity +over her lot. Though her throat was raw and swollen, she called at +regular intervals during the morning hours while the sun climbed into +view of her ten-foot beat. Even when it rode the heavens a red-hot +cannon ball directly above her, the hoarse and lonely cry of the girl +echoed back from the hillside every few minutes. There were times when +she wanted to throw herself down and give up to despair, but she knew +there would be opportunity for that when she could no longer fight for +her life. The shadow was beginning to climb the eastern wall of the +pit before Beaudry's shout reached her ears faintly. Her first thought +was that she must already be delirious. Not till she saw him at the +edge of the prospect hole was she sure that her rescuer was a reality. + +At the first sight of her Roy wanted to trumpet to high heaven the joy +that flooded his heart. He had found her--alive. After the torment of +the night and the worry of the day he had come straight to her in his +wandering, and he had reached her in time. + +But when he saw her condition pity welled up in him. Dark hollows had +etched themselves into her cheeks. Tears swam in her eyes. Her lips +trembled weakly from emotion. She leaned against the side of the pit +to support her on account of the sudden faintness that engulfed her +senses. He knelt and stretched his hands toward her, but the pit was +too deep. + +"You'll have to get a pole or a rope," she told him quietly. + +Beaudry found the dead trunk of a young sapling and drew the girl up +hand over hand. On the brink she stumbled and he caught her in his +arms to save her from falling back into the prospect hole. + +For a moment she lay close to him, heart beating against heart. Then, +with a little sobbing sigh, she relaxed and began to weep. Her tears +tugged at his sympathy, but none the less the pulses pounded in his +veins. He held her tight, with a kind of savage tenderness, while his +body throbbed with the joy of her. She had come to him with the same +sure instinct that brings a child to its mother's arms. All her pride +and disdain and suspicion had melted like summer mists in her need of +the love and comfort he could give her. + +"It's all right now. You're safe. Nothing can hurt you," he promised. + +"I know, but you don't know--what--what--" She broke off, shuddering. + +Still with his arm about her, he led Beulah to his horse. Here he made +her sit down while he gave her water and food. Bit by bit she told him +the story of her experience. He suffered poignantly with her, but he +could not be grateful enough that the finger-tip of destiny had pointed +him to her prison. He thanked his rather vague gods that it had been +his footsteps rather than those of another man that had wandered here +to save her. + +What surprised and wholly delighted him was the feminine quality of +her. He had thought of her before as a wild young creature full of +pride and scorn and anger, but with a fine barbaric loyalty that might +yet redeem her from her faults. He had never met a young woman so +hard, so self-reliant. She had asked no odds because of her sex. Now +all this harshness had melted. No strange child could have been more +shy and gentle. She had put herself into his hands and seemed to trust +him utterly. His casual opinions were accepted by her as if they had +been judgments of Solomon. + +Roy spread his blankets and put the saddle-bags down for a pillow. + +"We're not going to stay here to-night, are we?" she asked, surprised. + +He smiled. "No, you're going to lie down and sleep for an hour. When +you wake, supper will be ready. You're all in now, but with a little +rest you will be fit to travel." + +"You won't go away while I sleep," she said. + +"Do you think it likely? No, you can't get rid of me that easy. I'm a +regular adhesive plaster for sticking." + +"I don't want to get rid of you," she answered naïvely. "I'd be afraid +without you. Will you promise to stay close all the time I sleep?" + +"Yes." + +"I know I won't sleep, but if you want me to try--" + +"I do." + +She snuggled down into the blankets and was asleep in five minutes. + +Beaudry watched her with hungry eyes. What was the use of denying to +himself that he loved her? If he had not known it before, the past +half-hour had made it clear to him. With those wan shadows below her +long eye-lashes and that charming manner of shy dependence upon him, +she was infinitely more attractive to him than she had ever been before. + +Beulah Rutherford was not the kind of girl he had thought of as a +sweetheart in his daydreams. His fancies had hovered hazily about some +imaginary college girl, one skilled in the finesse of the rules that +society teaches young women in self-defense. Instead, he had fallen in +love with a girl who could not play the social game at all. She was +almost the only one he had known who never used any perfume; yet her +atmosphere was fragrant as one of the young pines in her own mountain +park. The young school-teacher was vital, passionate, and--he +suspected--fiercely tender. For her lover there would be rare gifts in +her eyes, wonderful largesse in her smile. The man who could qualify +as her husband must be clean and four-square and game from the soles of +his feet up--such a man as Dave Dingwell, except that the cattleman was +ten years too old for her. + +Her husband! What was he thinking about? Roy brought his bolting +thoughts up with a round turn. There could be no question of marriage +between her father's daughter and his father's son. Hal Rutherford had +put that out of doubt on the day when he had ridden to the Elephant +Corral to murder Sheriff Beaudry. No decent man could marry the +daughter of the man who had killed his father in cold blood. Out of +such a wedding could come only sorrow and tragedy. + +And if this were not bar enough between them, there was another. +Beulah Rutherford could never marry a man who was a physical coward. +It was a dear joy to his soul that she had broken down and wept and +clung to him. But this was the sex privilege of even a brave woman. A +man had to face danger with a nerve of tested iron, and that was a +thing he could never do. + +Roy was stretched on the moss face down, his chin resting on the two +cupped palms of his hands. Suddenly he sat up, every nerve tense and +alert. Silently he got to his feet and stole down into the aspen +grove. With great caution he worked his way into the grove and peered +through to the hillside beyond. A man was standing by the edge of the +prospect hole. He was looking down into it. Young Beaudry recognized +the heavy, slouch figure at the first glance. + +Not for an instant did he hesitate about what he meant to do. The hour +had come when he and Dan Meldrum must have an accounting. From its +holster he drew his revolver and crept forward toward the bad man. His +eyes were cold and hard as chilled steel. He moved with the long, soft +stride of a panther crouched for the kill. Not till the whole thing +was over did he remember that for once the ghost of fear had been +driven from his soul. He thought only of the wrongs of Beulah +Rutherford, the girl who had fallen asleep in the absolute trust that +he would guard her from all danger. This scoundrel had given her two +days of living hell. Roy swore to pay the fellow in full. + +Meldrum turned. He recognized Beaudry with a snarl of rage and terror. +Except one of the Rutherfords there was no man on earth he less wanted +to meet. The forty-four in his hand jerked up convulsively. The +miscreant was in two minds whether to let fly or wait. + +Roy did not even falter in his stride. He did not raise the weapon in +his loosely hanging hand. His eyes bored as steadily as gimlets into +the craven heart of the outlaw. + +Meldrum, in a panic, warned him back. His nerve was gone. For two +days he had been drinking hard, but the liquor had given out at +midnight. He needed a bracer badly. This was no time for him to go +through with a finish fight against such a man as Beaudry. + +"Keep yore distance and tell me what you want," the ex-convict repeated +hoarsely. "If you don't, I'll gun you sure." + +The young cattleman stopped about five yards from him. He knew exactly +what terms he meant to give the enemy. + +"Put your gun up," he ordered sharply. + +"Who's with you?" + +"Never mind who is with me. I can play this hand alone. Put up that +gun and then we'll talk." + +That suited Meldrum. If it was a question of explanations, perhaps he +could whine his way out of this. What he had been afraid of was +immediate battle. One cannot talk bullets aside. + +Slowly he pushed his revolver into its holster, but the hand of the man +rested still on the butt. + +"I came back to help Miss Rutherford out of this prospect hole," he +whimperingly complained. "When onc't I got sober, I done recalled that +she was here. So I hit the trail back." + +Meldrum spoke the exact truth. When the liquor was out of him, he +became frightened at what he had done. He had visions of New Mexico +hunting him down like a wild dog. At last, unable to stand it any +longer, he had come back to free her. + +"That's good. Saves me the trouble of looking for you. I'm going to +give you a choice. You and I can settle this thing with guns right +here and now. That's one way out for you. I'll kill you where you +stand." + +"W--what's the other way?" stammered the outlaw. + +"The other way is for you to jump into that prospect hole. I'll ride +away and leave you there to starve." + +"Goddlemighty! You wouldn't do that," Meldrum wheedled. "I didn't go +for to hurt Miss Rutherford any. Didn't I tell you I was drunk?" + +"Dead or alive, you're going into that prospect hole. Make up your +mind to that." + +The bad man moistened his dry lips with the tip of his tongue. He +stole one furtive glance around. Could he gun this man and make his +getaway? + +"Are any of the Rutherfords back of that clump of aspens?" he asked in +a hoarse whisper. + +"Yes." + +"Do . . . do they know I'm here?" + +"Not yet." + +Tiny beads of sweat stood out on the blotched face of the rustler. He +was trapped. Even if he fired through the leather holster and killed +Beaudry, there would be no escape for him on his tired horse. + +"Gimme a chanc't," he pleaded desperately. "Honest to God, I'll clear +out of the country for good. I'll quit belling around and live decent. +I'll--" + +"You'll go into the pit." + +Meldrum knew as he looked into that white, set face that he had come to +his day of judgment. But he mumbled a last appeal. + +"I'm an old man, Mr. Beaudry. I ain't got many years--" + +"Have you made your choice?" cut in Roy coldly. + +"I'd do anything you say--go anywhere--give my Bible oath never to come +back." + +"Perhaps I'd better call Rutherford." + +The bad man made a trembling clutch toward him. "Don't you, Mr. +Beaudry. I'll--I'll go into the pit," he sobbed. + +"Get in, then." + +"I know you wouldn't leave me there to starve. That would be an awful +thing to do," the killer begged. + +"You're finding that out late. It didn't worry you when Dave Dingwell +was being starved." + +"I hadn't a thing to do with that--not a thing, Mr. Beaudry. Hal +Rutherford, he give the order and it was up to me to go through. +Honest, that was the way of it." + +"And you could starve a girl who needed your help. That was all right, +of course." + +"Mr. Beaudry, I--I was only learning her a lesson--just kinder playing, +y' understand. Why, I've knowed Miss Beulah ever since she was a +little bit of a trick. I wouldn't do her a meanness. It ain't +reasonable, now, is it?" + +The man fawned on Roy. His hands were shaking with fear. If it would +have done any good, he would have fallen on his knees and wept. The +sight of him made Roy sick. Was this the way _he_ looked when the +yellow streak was showing? + +"Jump into that pit," he ordered in disgust. "That is, unless you'd +rather I would call Rutherford." + +Meldrum shambled to the edge, sat down, turned, and slid into the +prospect hole. + +"I know it's only yore little joke, Mr. Beaudry," he whined. "Mebbe I +ain't jest been neighborly with you-all, but what I say is let bygones +be bygones. I'm right sorry. I'll go down with you to Battle Butte +and tell the boys I done wrong." + +"No, you'll stay here." + +Beaudry turned away. The muffled scream of the bad man followed him as +far as the aspens. + + + + +Chapter XXV + +Two and a Camp-Fire + +Roy worked his way through the aspens and returned to the place where +he had left Beulah. She was still sleeping soundly and did not stir at +his approach. Quietly he built a fire and heated water for coffee. +From his saddlebags he took sandwiches wrapped in a newspaper. Beside +the girl he put his canteen, a pocket comb, a piece of soap, and the +bandanna he wore around his neck. Then, reluctantly, he awakened her. + +"Supper will be served in just five minutes," he announced with a smile. + +She glanced at the scant toilet facilities and nodded her head +decisively. "Thank you, kind sir. I'll be on hand." + +The young woman rose, glanced in the direction of the aspens, gathered +up the supplies, and fled to the grove. The eyes of Beaudry followed +her flight. The hour of sleep had been enough to restore her +resilience. She moved with the strong lightness that always reminded +him of wild woodland creatures. + +In spite of her promise Beulah was away beyond the time limit. Beaudry +became a little uneasy. It was not possible, of course, that Meldrum +could have escaped from the pit. And yet-- + +He called to her. "Is every little thing all right, neighbor?" + +"All right," she answered. + +A moment later she emerged from the aspens and came toward the camp. +She was panting a little, as if she had been running. + +"Quite a hill," he commented. + +She gave him a quick glance. There was in it shy curiosity, but her +dark eyes held, too, an emotion more profound. + +"Yes," she said. "It makes one breathe fast." + +Miss Rutherford had improved her time. The disorderly locks had been +hairpinned into place. From her face all traces of the dried tears +were washed. Pit clay no longer stained the riding-skirt. + +Sandwiches and coffee made their meal, but neither of them had ever +more enjoyed eating. Beulah was still ravenously hungry, though she +restrained her appetite decorously. + +"I forgot to tell you that I am lost," he explained. "Unless you can +guide me out of this labyrinth of hills, we'll starve to death." + +"I can take you straight to the park." + +"But we're not going to the park. Everybody is out looking for you. +We are to follow Del Oro down to the flats. The trouble is that I've +lost Del Oro," he grinned. + +"It is just over the hill." + +After refreshments he brought up his pinto horse and helped her to the +saddle. She achieved the mount very respectably. With a confidential +little laugh she took him into the secret of her success. + +"I've been practicing with dad. He has to help me up every time I go +riding." + +They crossed to Del Oro in the dusk and followed the trail by the creek +in the moonlight. In the starlight night her dusky beauty set his +pulses throbbing. The sweet look of her dark-lashed eyes stirred +strange chaos in him. They talked little, for she, too, felt a +delicious emotion singing in the currents of her blood. When their shy +eyes met, it was with a queer little thrill as if they had kissed each +other. + +It was late when they reached the flats. There was no sign of +Charlton's party. + +"The flats run for miles each way. We might wander all night and not +find them," Beulah mentioned. + +"Then we'll camp right here and look for them in the morning," decided +Roy promptly. + +Together they built a camp-fire. Roy returned from picketing the horse +to find her sitting on a blanket in the dancing light of the flickering +flames. Her happy, flushed face was like the promise of a summer day +at dawn. + +In that immensity of space, with night's million candles far above them +and the great hills at their backs, the walls that were between them +seemed to vanish. + +Their talk was intimate and natural. It had the note of comradeship, +took for granted sympathy and understanding. + +He showed her the picture of his mother. By the fire glow she studied +it intently. Her eyes brimmed with tears. + +"She's so lovely and so sweet--and she had to go away and leave her +little baby when she was so young. I don't wonder you worship her. I +would, too." + +Roy did not try to thank her in words. He choked up in his throat and +nodded. + +"You can see how fine and dainty she was," the girl went on. "I'd +rather be like that than anything else in the world--and, of course, I +never can be." + +"I don't know what you mean," he protested warmly. "You're as fine as +they grow." + +She smiled, a little wistfully. "Nice of you to say so, but I know +better. I'm not a lady. I'm just a harum-scarum, tempery girl that +grew up in the hills. If I didn't know it, that wouldn't matter. But +I do know it, and so like a little idiot I pity myself because I'm not +like nice girls." + +"Thank Heaven, you're not!" he cried. "I've never met a girl fit to +hold a candle to you. Why, you're the freest, bravest, sweetest thing +that ever lived." + +The hot blood burned slowly into her cheek under its dusky coloring. +His words were music to her, and yet they did not satisfy. + +"You're wrapping it up nicely, but we both know that I'm a vixen when I +get angry," she said quietly. "We used to have an old Indian woman +work for us. When I was just a wee bit of a thing she called me Little +Cactus Tongue." + +"That's nothing. The boys were probably always teasing you and you +defended yourself. In a way the life you have led has made you hard. +But it is just a surface hardness nature has provided as a protection +to you." + +"Since it is there, I don't see that it helps much to decide why it is +a part of me," she returned with a wan little smile. + +"But it does," he insisted. "It matters a lot. The point is that it +isn't you at all. Some day you'll slough it the way a butterfly does +its shell." + +"When?" she wanted to know incredulously. + +He did not look at her while he blurted out his answer. "When you are +happily married to a man you love who loves you." + +"Oh! I'm afraid that will be never." She tried to say it lightly, but +her face glowed from the heat of an inward fire. + +"There's a deep truth in the story of the princess who slept the years +away until the prince came along and touched her lips with his. Don't +you think lots of people are hampered by their environment? All they +need is escape." He suggested this with a shy diffidence. + +"Oh, we all make that excuse for ourselves," she answered with a touch +of impatient scorn. "I'm all the time doing it. I say if things were +different I would be a nice, sweet-tempered, gentle girl and not fly +out like that Katherine in Shakespeare's play. But I know all the time +it isn't true. We have to conquer ourselves. There is no city of +refuge from our own temperaments." + +He felt sure there was a way out from her fretted life for this +deep-breasted, supple daughter of the hills if she could only find it. +She had breathed an atmosphere that made for suspicion and harshness. +All her years she had been forced to fight to save herself from shame. +But Roy, as he looked at her, imaged another picture of Beulah +Rutherford. Little children clung to her knees and called her +"Mother." She bent over them tenderly, her face irradiated with love. +A man whose features would not come clear strode toward her and the +eyes she lifted to his were pools of light. + +Beaudry drew a deep breath and looked away from her into the fire. "I +wish time would solve my problem as surely as it will yours," he said. + +She looked at him eagerly, lips parted, but she would not in words +invite his confession. + +The young man shaded his eyes with his hand as if to screen them from +the fire, but she noticed that the back of his hand hid them from her, +too. He found a difficulty in beginning. When at last he spoke, his +voice was rough with feeling. + +"Of course, you'll despise me--you of all people. How could you help +it?" + +Her body leaned toward him ever so slightly. Love lit her face like a +soft light. + +"Shall I? How do you know?" + +"It cuts so deep--goes to the bottom of things. If a fellow is wild or +even bad, he may redeem himself. But you can't make a man out of a +yellow cur. The stuff isn't there." The words came out jerkily as if +with some physical difficulty. + +"If you mean about coming up to the park, I know about that," she said +gently. "Mr. Dingwell told father. I think it was splendid of you." + +"No, that isn't it. I knew I was right in coming and that some day you +would understand." He dropped the hand from his face and looked +straight at her. "Dave didn't tell your father that I had to be +flogged into going, did he? He didn't tell him that I tried to dodge +out of it with excuses." + +"Of course, you weren't anxious to throw up your own affairs and run +into danger for a man you had never met. Why should you be wild for +the chance. But you went." + +"Oh, I went. I had to go. Ryan put it up to me so that there was no +escape," was his dogged, almost defiant, answer. + +"I know better," the girl corrected quickly. "You put it up to +yourself. You're that way." + +"Am I?" He flashed a questioning look at her. "Then, since you know +that, perhaps you know, too, what--what I'm trying to tell you." + +"Perhaps I do," she whispered softly to the fire. + +There was panic in his eyes. "--That . . . that I--" + +"--That you are sensitive and have a good deal of imagination," the +girl concluded gently. + +"No, I'll not feed my vanity with pleasant lies to-night." He gave a +little gesture of self-scorn as he rose to throw some dry sticks on the +fire. "What I mean and what you mean is that--that I'm an arrant +coward." Roy gulped the last words out as if they burned his throat. + +"I don't mean that at all," she flamed. "How can you say such a thing +about yourself when everybody knows that you're the bravest man in +Washington County?" + +"No--no. I'm a born trembler." From where he stood beyond the fire he +looked across at her with dumb anguish in his eyes. "You say yourself +you've noticed it. Probably everybody that knows me has." + +"I didn't say that." Her dark eyes challenged his very steadily. +"What I said was that you have too much imagination to rush into danger +recklessly. You picture it all out vividly beforehand and it worries +you. Isn't that the way of it?" + +He nodded, ashamed. + +"But when the time comes, nobody could be braver than you," she went +on. "You've been tried out a dozen times in the last three months. +You have always made good." + +"Made good! If you only knew!" he answered bitterly. + +"Knew what? I saw you down at Hart's when Dan Meldrum ordered you to +kneel and beg. But you gamed it out, though you knew he meant to kill +you." + +He flushed beneath the tan. "I was too paralyzed to move. That's the +simple truth." + +"Were you too paralyzed to move down at the arcade of the Silver +Dollar?" she flashed at him. + +"It was the drink in me. I wasn't used to it and it went to my head." + +"Had you been drinking that time at the depot?" she asked with a touch +of friendly irony. + +"That wasn't courage. If it would have saved me, I would have run like +a rabbit. But there was no chance. The only hope I had was to throw a +fear into him. But all the time I was sick with terror." + +She rose and walked round the camp-fire to him. Her eyes were shining +with a warm light of admiration. Both hands went out to him +impulsively. + +"My friend, that is the only kind of courage really worth having. That +kind you earn. It is yours because it is born of the spirit. You have +fought for it against the weakness of the flesh and the timidity of +your own soul. Some men are born without sense or imagination. They +don't know enough to be afraid. But the man who tramples down a great +fear wins his courage by earning it." She laughed a little, to make +light of her own enthusiasm. "Oh, I know I'm preaching like a little +prig. But it's the truth, just the same." + +At the touch of her fingers his pulses throbbed. But once more he +tried to make her understand. + +"No, I've had luck all the way through. Do you remember that night at +the cabin--before we went up the cañon?" + +"Yes." + +"Some one shot at me as I ran into the cabin. I was so frightened that +I piled all the furniture against the door and hid in the cellar. It +was always that way with me. I used to jump if anybody rode up +unexpectedly at the ranch. Every little thing set my nerves +fluttering." + +"But it isn't so now." + +"No, not so much." + +"That's what I'm telling you," she triumphed. "You came out here from +a soft life in town. But you've grown tough because you set your teeth +to go through no matter what the cost. I wish I could show you how +much I . . . admire you. Dad feels that way, too. So does Ned." + +"But I don't deserve it. That's what humiliates me." + +"Don't you?" She poured out her passionate protest. "Do you think I +don't know what happened back there at the prospect hole? Do you think +I don't know that you put Dan Meldrum down in the pit--and him with a +gun in his hand? Was it a coward that did that?" + +"So you knew that all the time," he cried. + +"I heard him calling you--and I went close. Yes, I knew it. But you +would never have told me because it might seem like bragging." + +"It was easy enough. I wasn't thinking of myself, but of you. He saw +I meant business and he wilted." + +"You were thinking about me--and you forgot to be afraid," the girl +exulted. + +"Yes, that was it." A wave of happiness broke over his heart as the +sunlight does across a valley at dawn. "I'm always thinking of you. +Day and night you fill my thoughts, hillgirl. When I'm riding the +range--whatever I do--you're with me all the time." + +"Yes." + +Her lips were slightly parted, eyes eager and hungry. The heart of the +girl drank in his words as the thirsty roots of a rosebush do water. +She took a long deep breath and began to tremble. + +"I think of you as the daughter of the sun and the wind. Some day you +will be the mother of heroes, the wife of a man--" + +"Yes," she prompted again, and the face lifted to his was flushed with +innocent passion. + +The shy invitation of her dark-lashed eyes was not to be denied. He +flung away discretion and snatched her into his arms. An inarticulate +little sound welled up from her throat, and with a gesture wholly +savage and feminine her firm arms crept about his neck and fastened +there. + + + + +Chapter XXVI + +The Sins of the Fathers + +They spoke at first only in that lovers' Esperanto which is made up of +fond kisses and low murmurs and soft caresses. From these Beulah was +the first to emerge. + +"Would you marry a girl off the range?" she whispered. "Would you dare +take her home to your people?" + +"I haven't any people. There are none of them left but me." + +"To your friends, then?" + +"My friends will be proud as punch. They'll wonder how I ever +hypnotized you into caring for me." + +"But I'm only a hillgirl," she protested. "Are you sure you won't be +ashamed of me, dear?" + +"Certain sure. I'm a very sensible chap at bottom, and I know when I +have the best there is." + +"Ah, you think that now because--" + +"Because of my golden luck in winning the most wonderful girl I ever +met." In the fling of the fire glow he made a discovery and kissed it. +"I didn't know before that you had dimples." + +"There are lots of things you don't know about me. Some of them you +won't like. But if you love me, perhaps you'll forgive them, and +then--because I love you--maybe I'll grow out of them. I feel to-night +as if anything were possible. The most wonderful thing that ever +happened to me has come into my life." + +"My heart is saying that, too, sweetheart." + +"I love to hear you say that I'm--nice," she confided. "Because, you +know, lots of people don't think so. The best people in Battle Butte +won't have anything to do with me. I'm one of the Rutherford gang." + +The light was full on his face, so that she saw the dawning horror in +his eyes. + +"What is it? What are you thinking?" she cried. + +He gave a little groan and his hands fell slackly from her. "I'd +forgotten." The words came in a whisper, as if he spoke to himself +rather than to her. + +"Forgotten what?" she echoed; and like a flash added: "That I'm a +Rutherford. Is that what you mean?" + +"That you are the daughter of Hal Rutherford and that I'm the son of +John Beaudry." + +"You mean that you would be ashamed to marry a Rutherford," she said, +her face white in the fire glow. + +"No." He brushed her challenge aside and went straight to what was in +his mind. "I'm thinking of what happened seventeen years ago," he +answered miserably. + +"What did happen that could come between you and me to-night?" + +"Have you forgotten, too?" He turned to the fire with a deep breath +that was half a sob. + +"What is it? Tell me," she demanded. + +"Your father killed mine at Battle Butte." + +A shiver ran through her lithe, straight body. "No . . . No! Say it +isn't true, Roy." + +"It's true. I was there . . . Didn't they ever tell you about it?" + +"I've heard about the fight when Sheriff Beaudry was killed. Jess +Tighe had his spine injured in it. But I never knew that dad . . . +You're sure of it?" she flung at him. + +"Yes. He led the attackers. I suppose he thought of it as a feud. My +father had killed one of his people in a gun fight." + +She, too, looked into the fire. It was a long time before she spoke, +and then in a small, lifeless voice. "I suppose you . . . hate me." + +"Hate you!" His voice shook with agitation. "That would make +everything easy. But--there is no other woman in the world for me but +you." + +Almost savagely she turned toward him. "Do you mean that?" + +"I never mean anything so much." + +"Then what does it matter about our fathers? We have our own lives to +live. If we've found happiness we've a right to it. What happened +seventeen years ago can't touch us--not unless we let it." + +White-lipped, drear-eyed, Roy faced her hopelessly. "I never thought +of it before, but it is true what the Bible says about the sins of the +fathers. How can I shake hands in friendship with the man who killed +mine? Would it be loyal or decent to go into his family and make him +my father by marrying his daughter?" + +Beulah stood close to him, her eyes burning into his. She was ready to +fight for her love to a finish. "Do you think I'm going to give you up +now . . . now . . . just when we've found out how much we care . . . +because of any reason under heaven outside ourselves? _By God_, no! +That's a solemn oath, Roy Beaudry. I'll not let you go." + +He did not argue with her. Instead, he began to tell her of his father +and his mother. As well as he could remember it he related to her the +story of that last ride he had taken with John Beaudry. The girl found +herself visioning the pathetic tenderness of the father singing the +"li'l'-ole-hawss" song under the stars of their night camp. There +flashed to her a picture of him making his stand in the stable against +the flood of enemies pouring toward him. + +When Roy had finished, she spoke softly. "I'm glad you told me. I +know now the kind of man your father was. He loved you more than his +own life. He was brave and generous and kind. Do you think he would +have nursed a grudge for seventeen years? Do you think he would have +asked you to give up your happiness to carry on a feud that ought never +to have been?" + +"No, but--" + +"You are going to marry me, not Hal Rutherford. He is a good man now, +however wild he may have been once. But you needn't believe that just +because I say so. Wait and see. Be to him just as much or as little +as you like. He'll understand, and so shall I. My people are proud. +They won't ask more of you than you care to give. All they'll ask is +that you love me--and that's all I ask, dear." + +"All you ask now, but later you will be unhappy because there is a gulf +between your father and me. You will try to hide it, but I'll know." + +"I'll have to take my chance of that," she told him. "I don't suppose +that life even with the man you love is all happiness. But it is what +I want. It's what I'm not going to let your scruples rob me of." + +She spoke with a low-voiced, passionate intensity. The hillgirl was +fighting to hold her lover as a creature of the woods does to protect +its young. So long as she was sure that he loved her, nothing on earth +should come between them. For the moment she was absorbed by the +primitive idea that he belonged to her and she to him. All the vital +young strength in her rose to repel separation. + +Roy, yearning to take into his arms this dusky, brown-cheeked +sweetheart of his, became aware that he did not want her to let his +arguments persuade her. The fierce, tender egoism of her love filled +him with exultant pride. + +He snatched her to him and held her tight while his lips found her hot +cheeks, her eager eyes, her more than willing mouth. + + + + +Chapter XXVII + +The Quicksands + +Beulah was too perfect of body, too sound of health, not to revel in +such a dawn as swept across the flats next morning. The sun caressed +her throat, her bare head, the uplifted face. As the tender light of +daybreak was in the hills, so there was a lilt in her heart that found +expression in her voice, her buoyant footsteps, and the shine of her +eyes. She had slept soundly in Beaudry's blankets while he had lain +down in his slicker on the other side of the fire. Already she was +quite herself again. The hours of agony in the pit were obliterated. +Life was a wholly joyous and beautiful adventure. + +She turned back to the camp where Roy was making coffee. + +"Am I not to do any of the work?" + +At the sound of that deep, sweet voice with its hint of a drawl the +young man looked up and smiled. "Not a bit. All you have to do is to +drink my coffee and say I'm the best cook you know." + +After they had drunk the coffee and finished the sandwiches, Roy +saddled. + +"They're probably over to the left. Don't you think so?" Beaudry +suggested. + +"Yes." + +There drifted to them the sound of two shots fired in rapid succession. + +Roy fired twice in answer. They moved in the direction of the +shooting. Again the breeze brought revolver shots. This time there +were three of them. + +Beaudry bad an odd feeling that this was a call for help from somebody +in difficulties. He quickened their pace. The nature of the ground, a +good deal of which was deep sand, made fast travel impossible. + +"Look!" Beulah pointed forward and to the right. + +At the same moment there came a shout. "Help! I'm in the quicksands." + +They made out the figure of a man buried to his waist in the dry wash +of a creek. A horse stood on the farther bank of the wash. Roy +deflected toward the man, Beulah at his heels. + +"He must be caught in Dead Man's Sink," the girl explained. "I've +never seen it, but I know it is somewhere near here. All my life I've +heard of it. Two Norwegians were caught here five years ago. Before +help reached them, they were lost." + +"Get me a rope--quick," the man in the sand called. + +"Why, it's Brad," cried Beulah. + +"Yep. Saw the smoke of yore fire and got caught trying to reach you. +Can't make it alone. Thought I sure was a goner. You'll have to +hurry." + +Already Roy was taking the riata from its place below the saddle-horn. +From the edge of the wash he made a cast toward the man in the +quicksands. The loop fell short. + +"You'll have to get into the bed of the stream," suggested Beulah. + +Beaudry moved across the sand a few steps and tried again. The +distance was still too great. + +Already he was beginning to bog down. The soles of his shoes +disappeared in the treacherous sand. When he moved it seemed to him +that some monster was sucking at him from below. As he dragged his +feet from the sand the sunken tracks filled with mud. He felt the +quiver of the river-bed trembling at his weight. + +Roy turned to Beulah, the old familiar cold chill traveling up his +spine to the roots of his hair. "It won't bear me up. I'm going +down," he quavered. + +"Let me go, then. I'm lighter," she said eagerly. + +She made the proposal in all good faith, with no thought of reflecting +on his courage, but it stung her lover like a slap in the face. + +"Hurry with that rope!" Charlton sang across. "I'm sinking fast." + +"Is there any way for Miss Rutherford to get over to your horse?" asked +Roy quickly. + +"She can cross the wash two hundred yards below here. It's perfectly +safe." + +As Roy plunged forward, he gave Beulah orders without turning his head. +"You hear, dear. Run down and get across. But go over very carefully. +If you come to a bad place, go back at once. When you get over tie +Charlton's rope to his saddle-horn and throw him the looped end. The +horse will drag him out." + +The young woman was off on the run before he had half finished. + +Once more Roy coiled and threw the rope. Charlton caught the loop, +slipped it over his head, and tightened it under his arms. + +"All right. Pull!" he ordered. + +Beaudry had no footing to brace himself. Already he was ankle-deep in +the quicksand. It flashed across his mind that he could not fight his +own way out without abandoning Charlton. For one panicky moment he was +mad to get back to solid ground himself. The next he was tugging with +all the strength of his arms at the rope. + +"Keep on the job!" encouraged Charlton. "You're pulling my body over a +little so that the weight is on new sand. If Beulah gets here in time, +I'll make it." + +Roy pulled till his muscles ached. His own feet were sliding slowly +from under him. The water-bubbles that oozed out of the sand were now +almost at his high boot-tops. It was too late to think of retreat. He +must go through whether he wanted to or not. + +He cast one look down the dry river-bed. Beulah was just picking her +way across. She might get over in time to save Charlton, but before +they made it back across to him, he would be lost. + +He wanted to scream aloud to her his urgent need, to beg her, for +Heaven's sake, to hurry. The futility of it he knew. She was already +running with the knowledge to wing her feet that a man's life hung in +the balance. Besides, Charlton was not shrieking his fears out. He +was calling cheerful words of hope across the quaking morass of sand +that separated them. There was no use in making a gibbering idiot of +one's self. Beaudry clenched his jaws tight on the cries that rose +like a thermometer of terror in his throat. + +With every ounce of strength that was in him he fought, meanwhile, for +the life of the man at the other end of the rope. Before Beulah +reached Charlton, Roy was in deeper than his knees. He shut his eyes +and pulled like a machine. It seemed an eternity before Charlton +called to him to let go the rope. + +A new phase of his danger seared like a flame across the brain of +Beaudry. He had dragged himself from a perpendicular position. As +soon as he let loose of the rope he would begin to sink forward. This +would reduce materially the time before his face would sink into the +sand. + +Why not hang on and let the horse drag him out, too? He had as much +right to live as Charlton. Was there any law of justice that forced +him to throw away the rope that was his only hope? + +But he knew the tough little cowpony could not drag two heavy men from +the quicksands at the same time. If he held tight, Charlton, too, +would be sacrificed. His fingers opened. + +Roy watched the struggle on the opposite side of the wash. Charlton +was in almost to his arm-pits. The horse braced its feet and pulled. +Beulah, astride the saddle, urged it to the task again and again. At +first by imperceptible gains, then inch by inch, the man was dragged +from the mire that fought with a thousand clinging tentacles for its +prey. + +Not till Charlton was safe on the bank did Beulah realize the peril of +Beaudry. One glance across the river showed her that he was sliding +face downward to a shifting grave. With an anguished little cry she +released the rope from Charlton's body, flung herself to the saddle +again, and dashed down the bank of the creek. + +Roy lost count of time. His face was sliding down toward the sand. +Soon his mouth and nostrils would be stopped. He believed that it was +a question of minutes with him. + +Came the swift pounding of hoofs and Beulah's clear, ringing voice. + +"Hold your hands straight out, Roy." + +His back was toward her, so that he did not see what she meant to do. +But he obeyed blindly. With a wrench first one hand and then the other +came free from the sand and wavered into the air heavily. A rope sang, +dropped over his arms and head, tightened with a jerk around his waist. + +Two monsters seemed to be trying to tear him in two. A savage wrench +of pain went through him jaggedly. At short intervals this was +repeated. + +In spite of the suction of the muddy sand he felt its clutch giving +way. It loosened a little here, a little there. His body began to +move. After a long tug he came out at last with a rush. But he left +his high cowpuncher's boots behind. They remained buried out of sight +in the sand. He had literally been dragged out of them. + +Roy felt himself pulled shoreward. From across the quicksands came +Charlton's whoop of triumph. Presently Beulah was stooping over him +with tender little cries of woe and joy. + +He looked at her with a wan, tired smile. "I didn't think you'd make +it in time." In a moment he added: "I was horribly afraid. God, it +was awful!" + +"Of course. Who wouldn't have been?" She dismissed his confession as +of no importance. "But it's all over now. I want to hug you tight to +make sure you're here, boy." + +"There's no law against it," he said with feeble humor. + +"No, but--" With a queer little laugh she glanced across the river +toward her former lover. "I don't think I had better." + +Charlton joined them a few minutes later. He went straight to Roy and +offered his hand. + +"The feud stuff is off, Mr. Beaudry. Beulah will tell you that I +started in to make you trouble. Well, there's nothing doing in that +line. I can't fight the man who saved my life at the risk of his own." + +"Oh, well!" Roy blushed. "I just threw you a rope." + +"You bogged down some," Charlton returned dryly. "I've known men who +would have thought several times before throwing that rope from where +you did. They would have hated to lose their boots." + +Beulah's eyes shone. "Oh, Brad, I'm so glad. I do want you two to be +friends." + +"Do you?" As he looked at her, the eyes of the young hillman softened. +He guessed pretty accurately the state of her feelings. Beaudry had +won and he had lost. Well, he was going to be a good loser this time. +"What you want goes with me this time, Boots. The way you yanked me +out of the sinks was painful, but thorough. I'll be a friend to Mr. +Beaudry if he is of the same opinion as you. And I'll dance at his +wedding when it comes off." + +She cried out at that, but Charlton noticed that she made no denial. +Neither did Roy. He confined his remarks to the previous question, and +said that he would be very glad of Charlton's friendship. + +"Good enough. Then I reckon we better light out for camp with the glad +news that Beulah has been found. You can tell me all about it on the +way," the hillman suggested. + +Beulah dropped from her horse ten minutes later into the arms of Ned +Rutherford. Quite unexpectedly to himself, that young man found +himself filled with emotion. He caught his sister in his arms and held +her as if he never intended to let the sobbing girl go. His own voice +was not at all steady. + +"Boots--Boots . . . Honey-bug . . . Where you-all been?" he asked, +choking up suddenly. + + + + +Chapter XXVIII + +Pat Ryan Evens an Old Score + +Dingwell, the coffee-pot in one hand and a tin cup in the other, hailed +his partner cheerfully. "Come over here, son, and tell me who you +traded yore boots to." + +"You and Brad been taking a mud bath, Mr. Beaudry?" asked one of the +Lazy Double D riders. + +Roy told them, with reservations, the story of the past twenty-four +hours. Dave listened, an indifferent manner covering a quick interest. +His young friend had done for himself a good stroke of business. There +could no longer be any question of the attitude of the Rutherfords +toward him, since he had been of so great service to Beulah. Charlton +had renounced his enmity, the ground cut from beneath his feet. Word +had reached camp only an hour before of the death of Tighe. This left +of Beaudry's foes only Hart, who did not really count, and Dan Meldrum, +at the present moment facing starvation in a prospect hole. On the +whole, it had been a surprisingly good twenty-four hours for Roy. His +partner saw this, though he did not know the best thing Roy had won out +of it. + +"Listens fine," the old-timer commented when the young man had finished. + +"Can you rustle me a pair of boots from one of the boys, Dave? Size +number eight. I've got to run back up Del Oro to-day." + +"Better let me go, son," Dave proposed casually. + +"No. It's my job to turn the fellow loose." + +"Well, see he doesn't get the drop on you. I wouldn't trust him far as +I could throw a bull by the tail." + +Dingwell departed to borrow the boots and young Rutherford came over to +Beaudry. Out of the corner of his eye Roy observed that Beulah was +talking with the little Irish puncher, Pat Ryan. + +Rutherford plunged awkwardly into his thanks. His sister had made only +a partial confidant of him, but he knew that she was under obligations +to Beaudry for the rescue from Meldrum. The girl had not dared tell +her brother that the outlaw was still within his reach. She knew how +impulsively his anger would move to swift action. + +"We Rutherfords ain't liable to forget this, Mr. Beaudry. Dad has been +'most crazy since Boots disappeared. He'll sure want to thank you +himself soon as he gets a chance," blurted Ned. + +"I happened to be the lucky one to find her; that's all," Roy +depreciated. + +"Sure. I understand. But you did find her. That's the point. Dad +won't rest easy till he's seen you. I'm going to take sis right home +with me. Can't you come along?" + +Roy wished he could, but it happened that he had other fish to fry. He +shook his head reluctantly. + +Dingwell returned with a pair of high-heeled cowpuncher's boots. "Try +these on, son. They belong to Dusty. The lazy hobo wasn't up yet. If +they fit you, he'll ride back to the ranch in his socks." + +After stamping about in the boots to test them, Roy decided that they +would do. "They fit like a coat of paint," he said. + +"Say, son, I'm going to hit the trail with you on that little jaunt you +mentioned," his partner announced definitely. + +Roy was glad. He had of late been fed to repletion with adventure. He +did not want any more, and with Dingwell along he was not likely to +meet it. Already he had observed that adventures generally do not come +to the adventurous, but to the ignorant and the incompetent. Dave +moved with a smiling confidence along rough trails that would have +worried his inexperienced partner. To the old-timer these difficulties +were not dangers at all, because he knew how to meet them easily. + +They rode up Del Oro by the same route Roy and Beulah had followed the +previous night. Before noon they were close to the prospect hole where +Roy had left the rustler. The sound of voices brought them up in their +tracks. + +They listened. A whine was in one voice; in the other was crisp +command. + +"Looks like some one done beat us to it," drawled Dingwell. "We'll +move on and see what's doing." + +They topped the brow of a hill. + +A bow-legged little man with his back to them was facing Dan Meldrum. + +"I'm going along with yez as far as the border. You'll keep moving +lively till ye hit the hacienda of old Porf. Diaz. And you'll stay +there. Mind that now, Dan. Don't--" + +The ex-convict broke in with the howl of a trapped wolf. "You've lied +to me. You brought yore friends to kill me." + +The six-gun of the bad man blazed once--twice. In answer the revolver +of the bandy-legged puncher barked out, fired from the hip. Meldrum +staggered, stumbled, pitched forward into the pit. The man who had +killed him walked slowly forward to the edge and looked down. He stood +poised for another shot if one should prove necessary. + +Dave joined him. + +"He's dead as a stuck shote, Pat," the cattleman said gravely. + +Ryan nodded. "You saw he fired first, Dave." + +"Yes." After a moment he added: "You've saved the hangman a job, Pat. +I don't know anybody Washington County could spare better. There'll be +no complaint, I reckon." + +The little Irishman shook his head. "That would go fine if you had +shot him, Dave, or if Mr. Beaudry here had. But with me it's +different. I've been sivinteen years living down a reputation as a +hellion. This ain't going to do me any good. Folks will say it was a +case of one bad man wiping out another. They'll say I've gone back to +being a gunman. I'll be in bad sure as taxes." + +Dingwell looked at him, an idea dawning in his mind. Why not keep from +the public the name of the man who had shot Meldrum? The position of +the wound and the revolver clenched in the dead man's hand would show +he had come to his end in fair fight. The three of them might sign a +statement to the effect that one of them had killed the fellow in open +battle. The doubt as to which one would stimulate general interest. +No doubt the gossips would settle on Beaudry as the one who had done +it. This would still further enhance his reputation as a good man with +whom not to pick trouble. + +"Suits me if it does Roy," the cattleman said, speaking his thoughts +aloud. "How about it, son? Pat is right. This will hurt him, but it +wouldn't hurt you or me a bit. Say the word and all three of us will +refuse to tell which one shot Meldrum." + +"I'm willing," Roy agreed. "And I've been looking up ancient history, +Mr. Ryan. I don't think you were as bad as you painted yourself to me +once. I'm ready to shake hands with you whenever you like." + +The little Irishman flushed. He shook hands with shining eyes. + +"That's why I was tickled when Miss Beulah asked me to come up and turn +loose that coyote. It's a God's truth that I hoped he'd fight. I +wanted to do you a good bit of wolf-killing if I could. And I've done +it . . . and I'm not sorry. He had it coming if iver a man had." + +"Did you say that Beulah Rutherford sent you up here?" asked Roy. + +"She asked me to come. Yis." + +"Why?" + +"I can only guess her reasons. She didn't want you to come and she +couldn't ask Ned for fear he would gun the fellow. So she just picked +on a red-headed runt of an Irishman." + +"While we're so close, let's ride across to Huerfano Park," suggested +Dave. "I haven't been there in twenty years." + +That suited Roy exactly. As they rode across the hills his mind was +full of Beulah. She had sent Ryan up so that he could get Meldrum away +before her lover arrived. Was it because she was afraid Roy might show +the white feather? Or was it because she feared for his safety? He +wished he knew. + + + + +Chapter XXIX + +A New Leaf + +Hal Rutherford himself met the three riders as they drew up at the +horse ranch. He asked no verbal questions, but his eyes ranged +curiously from one to another. + +"'Light, gentlemen. I been wanting to see you especially, Mr. +Beaudry," he said. + +"I reckon you know where we've been, Hal," answered Dave after he had +dismounted. + +"I reckon." + +"We got a little news for public circulation. You can pass the word +among the boys. Dan Meldrum was shot three hours ago beside the pit +where Miss Beulah was imprisoned. His body is in the prospect hole +now. You might send some lads with spades to bury him." + +"One of you shot him." + +"You done guessed it, Hal. One of us helped him out of that pit +intending to see he hit the dust to Mexico. Dan was loaded to the +guards with suspicions. He chose to make it a gun-play. Fired twice. +The one of us that took him out of the pit fired back and dropped him +first crack. All of us saw the affair. It happened just as I've told +you." + +"But which of you--?" + +"That's the only point we can't remember. It was one of us, but we've +forgotten which one." + +"Suits me if it does you. I'll thank all three of you, then." +Rutherford cleared his throat and plunged on. "Boys, to-day kinder +makes an epoch in Huerfano Park. Jess Tighe died yesterday and Dan +Meldrum to-day. They were both bad citizens. There were others of us +that were bad citizens, too. Well, it's right-about face for us. We +travel broad trails from now on. Right now the park starts in to make +a new record for itself." + +Dave offered his hand, and with it went the warm smile that made him +the most popular man in Washington County. "Listens fine, Hal. I sure +am glad to hear you say so." + +"I niver had any kick against the Rutherfords. They were open and +aboveboard, anyhow, in all their diviltry," contributed Ryan to the +pact of peace. + +Nobody looked at Roy, but he felt the weight of their thoughts. All +four of them bore in mind the death of John Beaudry. His son spoke +quietly. + +"Mr. Rutherford, I've been thinking of my father a good deal these last +few days. I want to do as he would have me do about this thing. I'm +not going to chop my words. He gave his life to bring law and order +into this country, The men who killed him were guilty of murder. +That's an ugly word, but it's the true one." + +The grim face of the big hillman did not twitch. "I'll take the word +from you. Go on." + +"But I've been thinking more and more that he would want me to forget +that. Tighe and Meldrum are gone. Sheriff Beaudry worked for the good +of the community. That is all he asked. It is for the best interest +of Washington County that we bury the past. If you say so, I'll shake +hands on that and we'll all face to the future. Just as you say." + +Dingwell grinned. "Hooray! Big Chief Dave will now make oration. +You've got the right idea, son. I knew Jack Beaudry. There wasn't an +atom of revenge in his game body. His advice would have been to shake +hands. That's mine, too." + +The hillman and Roy followed it. + +Upon the porch a young woman appeared. + +"I've written those letters for you, dad," she called. + +Roy deserted the peace conference at once and joined her. + +"Oh! I didn't know it was you," she cried. "I'm so glad you came this +way. Was it . . . all right?" + +"Right as the wheat. Why did you send Pat up Del Oro?" + +She looked at him with eyes incredibly kind and shy. "Because I . . . +didn't want to run any chance of losing my new beau." + +"Are you sure that was your only reason?" + +"Certain sure. I didn't trust Meldrum, and . . . I thought you had +taken chances enough with him. So I gave Mr. Ryan an opportunity." + +"He took it," her lover answered gravely. + +She glanced at him quickly. "You mean--?" + +"Never mind what I mean now. We've more important things to talk +about. I haven't seen you for eight hours, and thirty-three minutes." + +Rutherford turned his guests over to Ned, who led the way to the +stable. The ranchman joined the lovers. He put an arm around Beulah. + +"Boots has done told me about you two, Mr. Beaudry. I'm eternally +grateful to you for bringing back my little girl to me, and if you all +feel right sure you care for each other I've got nothing to say but +'God bless you.' You're a white man. You're decent. I believe you'll +be kind to her." + +"I'm going to try to the best I know, Mr. Rutherford." + +"You'd better, young man." The big rancher swallowed a lump in his +throat and passed to another phase of the subject. "Boots was telling +me about how it kinder stuck in yore craw to marry the daughter of Hal +Rutherford, seeing as how things happened the way they did. Well, I'm +going to relieve yore mind. She's the one that has got the forgiving +to do, not you. She knew it all the time, too, but she didn't tell it. +Beulah is the daughter of my brother Anse. I took her from the arms of +her dying mother when she was a little trick that couldn't crawl. +She's not the daughter of the man that shot yore father. She's the +daughter of the man yore father shot." + +"Oh!" gasped Roy. + +Beulah went to her lover arrow-swift. + +"My dear . . . my dear! What does it matter now? Dad says my father +was killed in fair fight. He had set himself against the law. It took +his life. Your father didn't." + +"But--" + +"Oh, his was the hand. But he was sheriff. He did only his duty. +That's true, isn't it, dad?" + +"I reckon." + +Her strong young hands gripped tightly those of her lover. She looked +proudly into his eyes with that little flare of feminine ferocity in +hers. + +"I won't have it any other way, Roy Beaudry. You're the man I'm going +to marry, the man who is going to be the father of my children if God +gives me any. No blood stands between us--nothing but the memory of +brave men who misunderstood each other and were hurt because of it. +Our marriage puts an end forever to even the memory of the wrong they +did each other. That is the way it is to me--and that's the way it has +got to be to you, too." + +Roy laughed softly, tears in his eyes. As he looked at her eager young +beauty the hot life in his pulses throbbed. He snatched her to him +with an ardor as savage as her own. + + + + +THE END + +OF THE BEGINNING + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHERIFF'S SON*** + + +******* This file should be named 17043-8.txt or 17043-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/4/17043 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Sheriff's Son</p> +<p>Author: William MacLeod Raine</p> +<p>Release Date: November 11, 2005 [eBook #17043]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHERIFF'S SON***</p> +<br><br><center><h3>E-text prepared by Al Haines</h3></center><br><br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<A NAME="img-front"></A> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<CENTER> +<IMG SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="When Meldrum came in answer to her summons, he met the shock of his life." BORDER="2" WIDTH="353" HEIGHT="553"> +<H4> +[Frontispiece: When Meldrum came in answer to her summons, he met the +shock of his life.] +</H4> +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE SHERIFF'S SON +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AUTHOR OF +<BR><BR> +THE YUKON TRAIL, WYOMING, ETC. +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +ILLUSTRATED BY +<BR><BR> +HAROLD CUE +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +NEW YORK +<BR><BR> +GROSSET & DUNLAP +<BR><BR> +PUBLISHERS +</H4> + +<BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +Made in the United States of America +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +COPYRIGHT, 1917 AND 1918, BY FRANK A. MUNSEY COMPANY +<BR><BR> +COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE +<BR><BR><BR> +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED +<BR><BR><BR> +<I>Published April 1918</I> +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +TO +<BR> +ROBERT H. DAVIS +<BR><BR> +WHO WITH HIS USUAL GENEROSITY TO WRITERS +<BR> +MADE THE AUTHOR A PRESENT +<BR> +OF THE GERM IDEA +<BR> +OF THIS PLOT +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Contents +</H2> + +<CENTER> + +<TABLE WIDTH="80%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">Chapter</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap00b">Foreword</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">Dingwell Gives Three Cheers.</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">Dave Caches a Gunnysack</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">The Old-Timer Sits into a Big Game</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">Royal Beaudry Hears a Call</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">The Hill Girl</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">"Cherokee Street"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">Jess Tighe Spins a Web</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">Beulah Asks Questions</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap09">The Man on the Bed</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">X. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap10">Dave Takes a Ride</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">Tighe Weaves his Web Tighter</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">Stark Fear</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">Beulah Interferes</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">Personally Escorted</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">The Bad Man</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">Roy is Invited to Take a Drink</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">Roy Improves the Shining Hours</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">Rutherford Answers Questions</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">Beaudry Blows a Smoke Wreath</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">At the Lazy Double D</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">Roy Rides his Paint Hoss</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">Miss Rutherford Speaks her Mind</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">In the Pit</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">The Bad Man Decides not to Shoot</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">Two and a Camp-Fire</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26">The Sins of the Fathers</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27">The Quicksands</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXVIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28">Pat Ryan Evens an Old Score</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">XXIX. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap29">A New Leaf</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +</CENTER> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap00b"></A> +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +The Sheriff's Son +</H1> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Foreword +</H3> + + +<P> +Through the mesquite a horse moved deviously, following the crooked +trail of least resistance. A man was in the saddle and in front of him +a little boy nodding with sleep. The arm of the rider cradled the +youngster against the lurches of the pony's gait. +</P> + +<P> +The owner of the arm looked down at the tired little bundle it was +supporting. A wistful tenderness was in the leathery face. To the +rest of the world he was a man of iron. To this wee bit of humanity he +was a nurse, a playmate, a slave. +</P> + +<P> +"We're 'most to the creek now, son. Onc't we get there, we'll throw +off and camp. You can eat a snack and tumble right off to bye-low +land," he promised. +</P> + +<P> +The five-year-old smiled faintly and snuggled closer. His long lashes +drooped again to the soft cheeks. With the innocent selfishness of a +child he accepted the love that sheltered him from all troubles. +</P> + +<P> +A valley opened below the mesa, the trail falling abruptly almost from +the hoofs of the horse. Beaudry drew up and looked down. From rim to +rim the meadow was perhaps half a mile across. Seen from above, the +bed of it was like an emerald lake through which wound a ribbon of +silver. This ribbon was Big Creek. To the right it emerged from a +draw in the foothills where green reaches of forest rose tier after +tier toward the purple mountains. Far up among these peaks Big Creek +had its source in Lost Lake, which lay at the foot of a glacier near +the top of the world. +</P> + +<P> +The saw-toothed range lifted its crest into a sky of violet haze. Half +an hour since the sun had set in a blaze of splendor behind a crotch of +the hills, but dusk had softened the vivid tints of orange and crimson +and scarlet to a faint pink glow. Already the mountain silhouette had +lost its sharp edge and the outlines were blurring. Soon night would +sift down over the roof of the continent. +</P> + +<P> +The eyes of the man searched warily the valley below. They rested +closely on the willows by the ford, the cottonwood grove to the left, +and the big rocks beyond the creek. From its case beneath his leg he +took the sawed-off shotgun loaded with buckshot. It rested on the +pommel of the saddle while his long and careful scrutiny swept the +panorama. The spot was an ideal one for an ambush. +</P> + +<P> +His unease communicated itself to the boy, who began to whimper softly. +Beaudry, distressed, tried to comfort him. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, don't you, son—don't you. Dad ain't going to let anything hurt +you-all." +</P> + +<P> +Presently he touched the flank of his roan with a spur and the animal +began to pick its way down the steep trail among the loose rubble. Not +for an instant did the rider relax his vigilance as he descended. At +the ford he examined the ground carefully to make sure that nobody had +crossed since the shower of the afternoon. Swinging to the saddle +again, he put his horse to the water and splashed through to the +opposite shore. Once more he dismounted and studied the approach to +the creek. No tracks had written their story on the sand in the past +few hours. Yet with every sense alert he led the way to the cottonwood +grove where he intended to camp. Not till he had made a tour of the +big rocks and a clump of prickly pears adjoining was his mind easy. +</P> + +<P> +He came back to find the boy crying. "What's the matter, big son?" he +called cheerily. "Nothing a-tall to be afraid of. This nice +camping-ground fits us like a coat of paint. You-all take forty winks +while dad fixes up some supper." +</P> + +<P> +He spread his slicker and rolled his coat for a pillow, fitting it +snugly to the child's head. While he lit a fire he beguiled the time +with animated talk. One might have guessed that he was trying to make +the little fellow forget the alarm that had been stirred in his mind. +</P> + +<P> +"Sing the li'l' ole hawss," commanded the boy, reducing his sobs. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry followed orders in a tuneless voice that hopped gayly up and +down. He had invented words and music years ago as a lullaby and the +song was in frequent demand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Li'l' ole hawss an' li'l' ole cow,<BR> +Amblin' along by the ole haymow,<BR> +Li'l' ole hawss took a bite an' a chew,<BR> +'Durned if I don't,' says the ole cow, too." +</P> + +<P> +Seventeen stanzas detailed the adventures of this amazing horse and +predatory cow. Somewhere near the middle of the epic little Royal +Beaudry usually dropped asleep. The rhythmic tale always comforted +him. These nameless animals were very real friends of his. They had +been companions of his tenderest years. He loved them with a devotion +from which no fairy tale could wean him. +</P> + +<P> +Before he had quite surrendered to the lullaby, his father aroused him +to share the bacon and the flapjacks he had cooked. +</P> + +<P> +"Come and get it, big son," Beaudry called with an imitation of manly +roughness. +</P> + +<P> +The boy ate drowsily before the fire, nodding between bites. +</P> + +<P> +Presently the father wrapped the lad up snugly in his blankets and +prompted him while he said his prayers. No woman's hands could have +been tenderer than the calloused ones of this frontiersman. The boy +was his life. For the girl-bride of John Beaudry had died to give this +son birth. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry sat by the dying fire and smoked. The hills had faded to +black, shadowy outlines beneath a night of a million stars. During the +day the mountains were companions, heaven was the home of warm friendly +sunshine that poured down lance-straight upon the traveler. But now +the black, jagged peaks were guards that shut him into a vast prison of +loneliness. He was alone with God, an atom of no consequence. Many a +time, when he had looked up into the sky vault from the saddle that was +his pillow, he had known that sense of insignificance. +</P> + +<P> +To-night the thoughts of John Beaudry were somber. He looked over his +past with a strange feeling that he had lived his life and come to the +end of it. He was not yet forty, a well-set, bow-legged man of medium +height, in perfect health, sound as to every organ. From an old war +wound he had got while raiding with Morgan he limped a little. Two +more recent bullet scars marked his body. But none of these interfered +with his activity. He was in the virile prime of life; yet a bell rang +in his heart the warning that he was soon to die. That was why he was +taking his little son out of the country to safety. +</P> + +<P> +He took all the precautions that one could, but he knew that in the end +these would fail him. The Rutherfords would get him. Of that he had +no doubt. They would probably have killed him, anyhow, but he had made +his sentence sure when he had shot Anse Rutherford and wounded Eli +Schaick ten days ago. That it had been done by him in self-defense +made no difference. +</P> + +<P> +Out of the Civil War John Beaudry had come looking only for peace. He +had moved West and been flung into the wild, turbulent life of the +frontier. In the Big Creek country there was no peace for strong men +in the seventies. It was a time and place for rustlers and +horse-thieves to flourish at the expense of honest settlers. They +elected their friends to office and laughed at the law. +</P> + +<P> +But the tide of civilization laps forward. A cattlemen's association +had been formed. Beaudry, active as an organizer, had been chosen its +first president. With all his energy he had fought the rustlers. When +the time came to make a stand the association nominated Beaudry for +sheriff and elected him. He had prosecuted the thieves remorselessly +in spite of threats and shots in the dark. Two of them had been put by +him behind bars. Others were awaiting trial. The climax had come when +he met Anse Rutherford and his companion at Battle Butte, had defeated +them both single-handed, and had left one dead on the field and the +other badly wounded. +</P> + +<P> +Men said that John Beaudry was one of the great sheriffs of the West. +Perhaps he was, but he would have to pay the price that such a +reputation exacts. The Rutherford gang had sworn his death and he knew +they would keep the oath. +</P> + +<P> +The man sat with one hand resting on the slim body of the sleeping boy. +His heart was troubled. What was to become of little Royal without +either father or mother? After the manner of men who live much alone +in the open he spoke his thoughts aloud. +</P> + +<P> +"Son, one of these here days they're sure a-goin' to get yore dad. +Maybe he'll ride out of town and after a while the hawss will come +galloping back with an empty saddle. A man can be mighty unpopular and +die of old age, but not if he keeps bustin' up the plans of rampageous +two-gun men, not if he shoots them up when they're full of the devil +and bad whiskey. It ain't on the cyards for me to beat them to the +draw every time, let alone that they'll see to it all the breaks are +with them. No, sir. I reckon one of these days you're goin' to be an +orphan, little son." +</P> + +<P> +He stooped over the child and wrapped the blankets closer. The muscles +of his tanned face twitched. Long he held the warm, slender body of +the boy as close to him as he dared for fear of wakening him. +</P> + +<P> +The man lay tense and rigid, his set face staring up into the starry +night. It was his hour of trial. A rising tide was sweeping him away. +He had to clutch at every straw to hold his footing. But something in +the man—his lifetime habit of facing the duty that he saw—held him +steady. +</P> + +<P> +"You got to stand the gaff, Jack Beaudry. Can't run away from your +job, can you? Got to go through, haven't you? Well, then!" +</P> + +<P> +Peace came at last to the tormented man. He fell asleep. Hours later +he opened his eyes upon a world bathed in light. It was such a brave +warm world that the fears which had gripped him in the chill night +seemed sinister dreams. In this clear, limpid atmosphere only a sick +soul could believe in a blind alley from which there was no escape. +</P> + +<P> +But facts are facts. He might hope for escape, but even now he could +not delude himself with the thought that he might win through without a +fight. +</P> + +<P> +While they ate breakfast he told the boy about the mother whom he had +never seen. John Beaudry had always intended to tell Royal the story +of his love for the slender, sweet-lipped girl whose grace and beauty +had flooded his soul. But the reticence of shyness had sealed his +lips. He had cared for her with a reverence too deep for words. +</P> + +<P> +She was the daughter of well-to-do people visiting in the West. The +young cattleman and she had fallen in love almost at sight and had +remained lovers till the day of her death. After one year of happiness +tragedy had stalked their lives. Beaudry, even then the object of the +rustlers' rage, had been intercepted on the way from Battle Butte to +his ranch. His wife, riding to meet him, heard shots and galloped +forward. From the mesa she looked down into a draw and saw her husband +fighting for his life. He was at bay in a bed of boulders, so well +covered by the big rocks that the rustlers could not easily get at him. +His enemies, scattered fanshape across the entrance to the arroyo, were +gradually edging nearer. In a panic of fear she rode wildly to the +nearest ranch, gasped out her appeal for help, and collapsed in a +woeful little huddle. His friends arrived in time to save Beaudry, +damaged only to the extent of a flesh wound in the shoulder, but the +next week the young wife gave premature birth to her child and died +four days later. +</P> + +<P> +In mental and physical equipment the baby was heir to the fears which +had beset the last days of the mother. He was a frail little fellow +and he whimpered at trifles. But the clutch of the tiny pink fingers +held John Beaudry more firmly than a grip of steel. With unflagging +patience he fended bogies from the youngster. +</P> + +<P> +But the day was at hand when he could do this no longer. That was why +he was telling Royal about the mother he had never known. From his +neck he drew a light gold chain, at the end of which was a small square +folding case. In it was a daguerreotype of a golden-haired, smiling +girl who looked out at her son with an effect of shy eagerness. +</P> + +<P> +"Give Roy pretty lady," demanded the boy. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry shook his head slowly. "I reckon that's 'most the only thing +you can ask your dad for that he won't give you." He continued +unsteadily, looking at the picture in the palm of his hand. "Lady-Bird +I called her, son. She used to fill the house with music right out of +her heart.… Fine as silk and true as gold. Don't you ever forget +that your mother was a thoroughbred." His voice broke. "But I hadn't +ought to have let her stay out here. She belonged where folks are good +and kind, where they love books and music. Yet she wouldn't leave me +because … because … Maybe you'll know why she wouldn't some +day, little son." +</P> + +<P> +He drew a long, ragged breath and slipped the case back under his shirt. +</P> + +<P> +Quickly Beaudry rose and began to bustle about with suspicious +cheerfulness. He whistled while he packed and saddled. In the fresh +cool morning air they rode across the valley and climbed to the mesa +beyond. The sun mounted higher and the heat shimmered on the trail in +front of them. The surface of the earth was cracked in dry, sun-baked +tiles curving upward at the edges. Cat's-claw clutched at the legs of +the travelers. Occasionally a swift darted from rock to rock. The +faint, low voices of the desert were inaudible when the horse moved. +The riders came out of the silence and moved into the silence. +</P> + +<P> +It was noon when Beaudry drew into the suburbs of Battle Butte. He +took an inconspicuous way by alleys and side streets to the corral. +His enemies might or might not be in town. He wanted to take no +chances. All he asked was to postpone the crisis until Royal was safe +aboard a train. Crossing San Miguel Street, the riders came face to +face with a man Beaudry knew to be a spy of the Rutherfords. He was a +sleek, sly little man named Chet Fox. +</P> + +<P> +"Evening sheriff. Looks some like we-all might have rain," Fox said, +rasping his unshaven chin with the palm of a hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Looks like," agreed Beaudry with a curt nod and rode on. +</P> + +<P> +Fox disappeared around a corner, hurried forward for half a block, and +turned in at the Silver Dollar Saloon. A broad-shouldered, hawk-nosed +man of thirty was talking to three of his friends. Toward this group +Fox hurried. In a low voice he spoke six words that condemned John +Beaudry to death. +</P> + +<P> +"Beaudry just now rode into town." +</P> + +<P> +Hal Rutherford forgot the story he was telling. He gave crisp, short +orders. The men about him left by the back door of the saloon and +scattered. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile the sheriff rode into the Elephant Corral and unsaddled his +horse. He led the animal to the trough in the yard and pumped water +for it. His son trotted back beside him to the stable and played with +a puppy while the roan was being fed. +</P> + +<P> +Jake Sharp, owner of the corral, stood in the doorway and chatted with +the sheriff for a minute. Was it true that a new schoolhouse was going +to be built on Bonito? And had the sheriff heard whether McCarty was +to be boss of Big Creek roundup? +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry answered his questions and turned away. Royal clung to one +hand as they walked. The other held the muley gun. +</P> + +<P> +It was no sound that warned the sheriff. The approach of his enemies +had been noiseless. But the sixth sense that comes to some fighting +men made him look up quickly. Five riders were moving down the street +toward the stable, Hal Rutherford in the lead. The alert glance of the +imperiled man swept the pasture back of the corral. The glint of the +sun heliographed danger from the rifle barrels of two men just topping +the brow of the hill. Two more were stealing up through a draw to the +right. A bullet whistled past the head of the officer. +</P> + +<P> +The father spoke quietly to his little boy. "Run, son, to the stable." +</P> + +<P> +The little chap began to sob. Bullets were already kicking up the dust +behind them. Roy clung in terror to the leg of his father. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry caught up the child and made a dash for the stable. He reached +it, just as Sharp and his horse-wrangler were disappearing into the +loft. There was no time to climb the ladder with Royal. John flung +open the top of the feed-bin, dropped the boy inside, and slammed down +the lid. +</P> + +<P> +The story of the fight that followed is still an epic in the Southwest. +There was no question of fair play. The enemies of the sheriff +intended to murder him. +</P> + +<P> +The men in his rear were already clambering over the corral fence. One +of them had a scarlet handkerchief around his neck. Beaudry fired from +his hip and the vivid kerchief lurched forward into the dust. Almost +at the same moment a sharp sting in the fleshy part of his leg told the +officer that he was wounded. +</P> + +<P> +From front and rear the attackers surged into the stable. The sheriff +emptied the second barrel of buckshot into the huddle and retreated +into an empty horse-stall. The smoke of many guns filled the air so +that the heads thrust at him seemed oddly detached from bodies. A +red-hot flame burned its way through his chest. He knew he was +mortally wounded. +</P> + +<P> +Hal Rutherford plunged at him, screaming an oath. "We've got him, +boys." +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry stumbled back against the manger, the arms of his foe clinging +to him like ropes of steel. Twice he brought down the butt of his +sawed-off gun on the black head of Rutherford. The grip of the big +hillman grew lax, and as the man collapsed, his fingers slid slackly +down the thighs of the officer. +</P> + +<P> +John dropped the empty weapon and dragged out a Colt's forty-four. He +fired low and fast, not stopping to take aim. Another flame seared its +way through his body. The time left him now could be counted in +seconds. +</P> + +<P> +But it was not in the man to give up. The old rebel yell of Morgan's +raiders quavered from his throat. They rushed him. With no room even +for six-gun work he turned his revolver into a club. His arm rose and +fell in the mêlée as the drive of the rustlers swept him to and fro. +</P> + +<P> +So savage was the defense of their victim against the hillmen's +onslaught that he beat them off. A sudden panic seized them, and those +that could still travel fled in terror. +</P> + +<P> +They left behind them four dead and two badly wounded. One would be a +cripple to the day of his death. Of those who escaped there was not +one that did not carry scars for months as a memento of the battle. +</P> + +<P> +The sheriff was lying in the stall when Sharp found him. From out of +the feed-bin the owner of the corral brought his boy to the father +whose life was ebbing. The child was trembling like an aspen leaf. +</P> + +<P> +"Picture," gasped Beaudry, his hand moving feebly toward the chain. +</P> + +<P> +A bullet had struck the edge of the daguerreo-type case. +</P> + +<P> +"She … tried … to save me … again," murmured the dying man +with a faint smile. +</P> + +<P> +He looked at the face of his sweetheart. It smiled an eager invitation +to him. A strange radiance lit his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Then his head fell back. He had gone to join his Lady-Bird. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter I +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Dingwell Gives Three Cheers +</H3> + + +<P> +Dave Dingwell had been in the saddle almost since daylight had wakened +him to the magic sunshine of a world washed cool and miraculously clean +by the soft breath of the hills. Steadily he had jogged across the +desert toward the range. Afternoon had brought him to the foothills, +where a fine rain blotted out the peaks and softened the sharp outlines +of the landscape to a gentle blur of green loveliness. +</P> + +<P> +The rider untied his slicker from the rear of the saddle and slipped +into it. He had lived too long in sun-and-wind-parched New Mexico to +resent a shower. Yet he realized that it might seriously affect the +success of what he had undertaken. +</P> + +<P> +If there had been any one to observe this solitary traveler, he would +have said that the man gave no heed to the beauty of the day. Since he +had broken camp his impassive gaze had been fixed for the most part on +the ground in front of him. Occasionally he swung his long leg across +the rump of the horse and dismounted to stoop down for a closer +examination of the hoofprints he was following. They were not recent +tracks. He happened to know that they were about three days old. +Plain as a printed book was the story they told him. +</P> + +<P> +The horses that had made these tracks had been ridden by men in a +desperate hurry. They had walked little and galloped much. Not once +had they fallen into the easy Spanish jog-trot used so much in the +casual travel of the South-west. The spur of some compelling motive +had driven this party at top speed. +</P> + +<P> +Since Dingwell knew the reason for such haste he rode warily. His +alert caution suggested the panther. The eye of the man pounced surely +upon every bit of cactus or greasewood behind which a possible foe +might be hidden. His lean, sun-tanned face was an open letter of +recommendation as to his ability to take care of himself in a world +that had often glared at him wolfishly. A man in a temper to pick a +quarrel would have looked twice at Dave Dingwell before choosing him as +the object of it—and then would have passed on to a less competent +citizen. +</P> + +<P> +The trail grew stiffer. It circled into a draw down which tumbled a +jocund little stream. Trout, it might be safely guessed, lurked here +in the riffles and behind the big stones. An ideal camping-ground +this, but the rider rejected it apparently without consideration. He +passed into the cañon beyond, and so by a long uphill climb came to the +higher reaches of the hills. +</P> + +<P> +He rode patiently, without any hurry, without any hesitation. Here +again a reader of character might have found something significant in +the steadiness of the man. Once on the trail, it would not be easy to +shake him off. +</P> + +<P> +By the count of years Dingwell might be in the early forties. Many +little wrinkles radiated fanlike from the corners of his eyes. But +whatever his age time had not tamed him. In the cock of those same +steel-blue eyes was something jaunty, something almost debonair, that +carried one back to a youth of care-free rioting in a land of sunshine. +Not that Mr. Dingwell was given to futile dissipations. He had the +reputation of a responsible ranchman. But it is not to be denied that +little devils of mischief at times danced in those orbs. +</P> + +<P> +Into the hills the trail wound across gulches and along the shoulders +of elephant humps. It brought him into a country of stunted pines and +red sandstone, and so to the summit of a ridge which formed part of the +rim of a saucer-shaped basin. He looked down into an open park hedged +in on the far side by mountains. Scrubby pines straggled up the slopes +from arroyos that cleft the hills. By divers unknown paths these led +into the range beyond. +</P> + +<P> +A clump of quaking aspens was the chief landmark in the bed of the +park. Though this was the immediate destination of Mr. Dingwell, since +the hoofprints he was following plunged straight down toward the grove, +yet he took certain precautions before venturing nearer. He made sure +that the 45-70 Winchester that lay across the saddle was in working +order. Also he kept along the rim of the saucer-shaped park till he +came to a break where a creek tumbled down in a white foam through a +ravine. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a heap better to be safe than to be sorry," he explained to +himself cheerfully. "They call this Lonesome Park, and maybe so it +deserves its name to-day. But you never can tell, Dave. We'll make +haste slowly if you don't mind." +</P> + +<P> +Along the bank of the creek he descended, letting his sure-footed +cowpony pick its own way while he gave strict attention to the scenery. +At a bend of the stream he struck again the trail of the riders he had +been following and came from there directly to the edge of the aspen +clump. +</P> + +<P> +Apparently his precautions were unnecessary. He was alone. There +could be no doubt of that. Only the tracks of feet and the ashes of a +dead fire showed that within a few days a party had camped here. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell threw his bridle to the ground and with his rifle tucked under +his arm examined the tracks carefully. Sometimes he was down on hands +and knees peering at the faint marks of which he was reading the story. +Foot by foot he quartered over the sand, entirely circling the grove +before he returned to the ashes of the dead fire. Certain facts he had +discovered. One was that the party which had camped here had split up +and taken to the hills by different trails instead of as a unit. Still +another was that so far as he could see there had been no digging in or +near the grove. +</P> + +<P> +It was raining more definitely now, so that the distant peaks were +hidden in a mist. In the lee of the aspens it was still dry. Dingwell +stood there frowning at the ashes of the dead campfire. He had had a +theory, and it was not working out quite as he had hoped. For the +moment he was at a mental impasse. Part of what had happened he could +guess almost as well as if he had been present to see it. Sweeney's +posse had given the fugitives a scare at Dry Gap and driven them back +into the desert. In the early morning they had tried the hills again +and had reached Lonesome Park. But they could not be sure that Sweeney +or some one of the posses sent out by the railroad was not close at +hand. Somewhere in the range back of them the pursuers were combing +the hills, and into those very hills the bandits had to go to disappear +in their mountain haunts. +</P> + +<P> +Even before reaching the park Dingwell had guessed the robbers would +separate here and strike each for individual safety. But what had they +done with the loot? That was the thing that puzzled him. +</P> + +<P> +They had divided the gold here. Or one of them had taken it with him +to an appointed rendezvous in the hills. Or they had cached it, One of +these three plans had been followed. But which? +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell rubbed the open fingers of one hand slowly through his +sunburnt thatch of hair. "Doggone my hide, if it don't look like they +took it with them," he murmured. "But that ain't reasonable, Dave. +The man in charge of this hold-up knew his business. It was smooth +work all the way through. If it hadn't been for bad luck he would have +got away with the whole thing fine. They still had the loot with them +when they got here. No doubt about that. Well, then! He wouldn't +divvy up here, because, if they separated, and any one of them got +caught with the gold on him, it would be a give-away. But if they +didn't have the dough on them, it would not matter if some of the boys +were caught. You can't do anything with a man riding peaceable through +the hills looking for strays, no matter how loaded to the guards with +suspicions you may be. So they would cache the loot. Wouldn't they? +Sure they would if they had any sense. But tell me where, Dave." +</P> + +<P> +His thoughtful eyes had for some moments been resting on something that +held them. He stooped and picked up a little chip of sealing-wax. +Instantly he knew how it had come here. The gold sacks had been sealed +by the express company with wax. At least one of the sacks had been +opened here by the robbers. +</P> + +<P> +Did this mean they had divided their treasure here? It might mean +that. Or it might mean that before they cached it they had opened one +sack to see how much it held. Dingwell clung to the opinion that the +latter was the truth, partly because this marched with his hopes and +partly because it seemed to him more likely. There would be a big risk +in taking their haul with them farther. There was none at all in +caching it. +</P> + +<P> +It was odd how that little heap of ashes in the center of the camp-fire +drew his eye. Ashes did not arrange themselves that way naturally. +Some one had raked these into a pile. Why? And who? +</P> + +<P> +He could not answer those questions offhand. But he had a large bump +of curiosity about some things. Otherwise he would not have been where +he was that afternoon. With his boot he swept the ashes aside. The +ground beneath them was a little higher than it was in the immediate +neighborhood. Why should the bandits have built their fire on a small +hillock when there was level ground adjacent? There might be a reason +underneath that little rise of ground or there might not. Mr. Dingwell +got out his long hunting-knife, fell on his knees, and began to dig at +the center of the spot where the campfire had been. +</P> + +<P> +The dirt flew. With his left hand he scooped it from the hole he was +making. Presently the point of his knife struck metal. Three minutes +later he unearthed a heavy gunnysack. Inside of it were a lot of +smaller sacks bearing the seal of the Western Express Company. He had +found the gold stolen by the Rutherford gang from the Pacific Flyer. +</P> + +<P> +Dave was pleased with himself. It had been a good day's work. He +admitted cheerfully that there was not another man in New Mexico who +could have pulled off successfully the thing he had just done. The +loot had been well hidden. It had been a stroke of genius to cache it +in the spot where the camp-fire was afterward built. But he had +outguessed Jess Tighe that time. His luck had sure stood up fine. The +occasion called for a demonstration. +</P> + +<P> +He took off his broad-rimmed gray hat. "Three rousing cheers, Mr. +Dingwell," he announced ceremoniously. "Now, all together." +</P> + +<P> +Rising to his toes, he waved his hat joyously, worked his shoulders +like a college cheer leader, and gave a dumb pantomime of yelling. He +had intended to finish off with a short solo dance step, for it is not +every day that a man finds twenty thousand dollars in gold bars buried +in the sand. +</P> + +<P> +But he changed his mind. As he let himself slowly down to his heels +there was a sardonic grin on his brown face. In outguessing Tighe he +had slipped one little mental cog, after all, and the chances were that +he would pay high for his error. A man had been lying in the mesquite +close to the creek watching him all the time. He knew it because he +had caught the flash of light on the rifle barrel that covered him. +</P> + +<P> +The gold-digger beckoned with his hat as he called out. "Come right +along to the party. You're welcome as a frost in June." +</P> + +<P> +A head raised itself cautiously out of the brush. "Don't you move, or +I'll plug lead into you." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm hog-tied," answered Dingwell promptly. His mind worked swiftly. +The man with the drop on him was Chet Fox, a hanger-on of the +Rutherford gang, just as he had been seventeen years before when he +betrayed John Beaudry to death. Fox was shrewd and wily, but no +gunman. If Chet was alone, his prisoner did not propose to remain one. +Dave did not intend to make any fool breaks, but it would be hard luck +if he could not contrive a chance to turn the tables. +</P> + +<P> +"Reach for the roof." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell obeyed orders. +</P> + +<P> +Fox came forward very cautiously. Not for an instant did his beady +eyes lift from the man he covered. +</P> + +<P> +"Turn your back to me." +</P> + +<P> +The other man did as he was told. +</P> + +<P> +Gingerly Fox transferred the rifle to his left hand, then drew a +revolver. He placed the rifle against the fork of a young aspen and +the barrel of the six-gun against the small of Dingwell's back. +</P> + +<P> +"Make just one break and you're a goner," he threatened. +</P> + +<P> +With deft fingers he slid the revolver of the cattleman from its +holster. Then, having collected Dingwell's rifle, he fell back a few +steps. +</P> + +<P> +"Now you can go on with those health exercises I interrupted if you've +a mind to," Fox suggested with a sneer. +</P> + +<P> +His prisoner turned dejected eyes upon him. "That's right. Rub it in, +Chet. Don't you reckon I know what a long-eared jackass I am?" +</P> + +<P> +"There's two of us know it then," said Fox dryly. "Now, lift that +gunnysack to your saddle and tie it on behind." +</P> + +<P> +This done, Fox pulled himself to the saddle, still with a wary eye on +his captive. +</P> + +<P> +"Hit the trail along the creek," he ordered. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell moved forward reluctantly. It was easy to read chagrin and +depression in the sag of his shoulders and the drag of his feet. +</P> + +<P> +The pig eyes of the fat little man on horseback shone with triumph. He +was enjoying himself hugely. It was worth something to have tamed so +debonair a dare-devil as Dingwell had the reputation of being. He had +the fellow so meek that he would eat out of his hand. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter II +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Dave Caches a Gunnysack +</H3> + + +<P> +Fox rode about ten yards behind his prisoner, who plodded without +spirit up the creek trail that led from the basin. +</P> + +<P> +"You're certainly an accommodating fellow, Dave," he jeered. "I've +seen them as would have grumbled a heap at digging up that sack, and +then loaning me their horse to carry it whilst they walked. But you're +that cheerful. My own brother wouldn't have been so kind." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell grunted sulkily. He may have felt cheerful, but he did not +look it. The pudgy round body of Fox shook with silent laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"Kind is the word, Dave. Honest, I hate to put myself under +obligations to you like this. If I hadn't seen with my own eyes how +you was feeling the need of them health exercises, I couldn't let you +force your bronc on me. But this little walk will do you a lot of +good. It ain't far. My horse is up there in the pines." +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do with me?" growled the defeated man over his +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Do with you?" The voice of Fox registered amiable surprise. "Why, I +am going to ask you to go up to the horse ranch with me so that the +boys can thank you proper for digging up the gold." +</P> + +<P> +Directly in front of them a spur of the range jutted out to meet the +brown foothills. Back of this, forty miles as the crow flies, nestled +a mountain park surrounded by peaks. In it was the Rutherford horse +ranch. Few men traveled to it, and these by little-used trails. Of +those who frequented them, some were night riders. They carried a +price on their heads, fugitives from localities where the arm of the +law reached more surely. +</P> + +<P> +Through the dry brittle grass the man on horseback followed Dingwell to +the scant pines where his cowpony was tethered. Fox dismounted and +stood over his captive while the latter transferred the gunnysack and +its contents to the other saddle. Never for an instant did the little +spy let the other man close enough to pounce upon him. Even though +Dingwell was cowed, Chet proposed to play it safe. Not till he was in +the saddle himself did he let his prisoner mount. +</P> + +<P> +Instantly Dave's cowpony went into the air. +</P> + +<P> +"Whoa, you Teddy! What's the matter with you?" cried the owner of the +horse angrily. "Quit your two-stepping, can't you?" +</P> + +<P> +The animal had been gentle enough all day, but now a devil of unrest +seemed to have entered it. The sound of trampling hoofs thudded on the +hard, sun-baked earth as the bronco came down like a pile-driver, +camel-backed, with legs stiff and unjointed. Skyward it flung itself +again, whirled in the air, and jarred down at an angle. Wildly flapped +the arms of the cattleman. The quirt, wrong end to, danced up and down +clutched in his flying fist. Each moment it looked as if Mr. Dingwell +would take the dust. +</P> + +<P> +The fat stomach of Fox shook with mirth. "Go it, you buckaroo," he +shouted. "You got him pulling leather. Sunfish, you pie-faced cayuse." +</P> + +<P> +The horse in its lunges pounded closer. Fox backed away, momentarily +alarmed. "Here —— you, hold your brute off. It'll be on top of me +in a minute," he screamed. +</P> + +<P> +Apparently Dingwell had lost all control of the bucker. Somehow he +still stuck to the saddle, by luck rather than skill it appeared. His +arms, working like windmills, went up as Teddy shot into the air again. +The hump-backed weaver came down close to the other horse. At the same +instant Dingwell's loose arm grew rigid and the loaded end of the quirt +dropped on the head of Fox. +</P> + +<P> +The body of Fox relaxed and the rifle slid from his nerveless fingers. +Teddy stopped bucking as if a spring had been touched. Dingwell was on +his own feet before the other knew what had happened. His long arm +plucked the little man from the saddle as if he had been a child. +</P> + +<P> +Still jarred by the blow, Fox looked up with a ludicrous expression on +his fat face. His mind was not yet adjusted to what had taken place. +</P> + +<P> +"I told you to keep the brute away," he complained querulously. "Now, +see what you've done." +</P> + +<P> +Dave grinned. "Looks like I spilled your apple cart. No, don't bother +about that gun. I'll take care of it for you. Much obliged." +</P> + +<P> +Chet's face registered complex emotion. Incredulity struggled with +resentment. "You made that horse buck on purpose," he charged. +</P> + +<P> +"You're certainly a wiz, Chet," drawled the cattleman. +</P> + +<P> +"And that business of being sore at yourself and ashamed was all a +bluff. You were laying back to trick me," went on Fox venomously. +</P> + +<P> +"How did you guess it? Well, don't you care. We're born to trouble as +the sparks fly upward. As for man, his days are as grass. He diggeth +a pit and falleth into it his own self. Likewise he digs a hole and +buries gold, but beholds another guy finds it. See, Second Ananias, +fourteen, twelve." +</P> + +<P> +"That's how you show your gratitude, is it? I might 'a' shot you safe +and comfortable from the mesquite and saved a lot of trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't wonder you're disgusted, Chet. But be an optimist. I might +'a' busted you high and wide with that quirt instead of giving you a +nice little easy tap that just did the business. There's no manner of +use being regretful over past mistakes," Dave told him cheerfully. +</P> + +<P> +"It's easy enough for you to say that," groaned Fox, his hand to an +aching head. "But I didn't lambaste you one on the nut. Anyhow, +you've won out." +</P> + +<P> +"I had won out all the time, only I hadn't pulled it off yet," Dingwell +explained with a grin. "You didn't think I was going up to the horse +ranch with you meek and humble, did you? But we can talk while we +ride. I got to hustle back to Battle Butte and turn in this sack to +the sheriff so as I can claim the reward. Hate to trouble you, Chet, +but I'll have to ask you to transfer that gunnysack back to Teddy. +He's through bucking for to-day, I shouldn't wonder." +</P> + +<P> +Sourly Fox did as he was told. Then, still under orders, he mounted +his own horse and rode back with his former prisoner to the park. +Dingwell gathered up the rifle and revolver that had been left at the +edge of the aspen grove and headed the horses for Battle Butte. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll move lively, Chet," he said. "It will be night first thing we +know." +</P> + +<P> +Chet Fox was no fool. He could see how carefully Dingwell had built up +the situation for his coup, and he began at once laying the groundwork +for his own escape. There was in his mind no intention of trying to +recover the gold himself, but if he could get away in time to let the +Rutherfords know the situation, he knew that Dave would have an uneasy +life of it. +</P> + +<P> +"'Course I was joking about shooting you up from the mesquite, Dave," +he explained as the horses climbed the trail from the park. "I ain't +got a thing against you—nothing a-tall. Besides, I'm a law-abiding +citizen. I don't hold with this here gunman business. I never was a +killer, and I don't aim to begin now." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure, I know how tender-hearted you are, Chet. I'm that way, too. +I'm awful sorry for myself when I get in trouble. That's why I tapped +you on the cocoanut with the end of my quirt. That's why I'd let you +have about three bullets from old Tried and True here right in the back +if you tried to make your getaway. But, as you say, I haven't a thing +against you. I'll promise you one of the nicest funerals Washington +County ever had." +</P> + +<P> +The little man laughed feebly. "You will have your joke, Dave, but I +know mighty well you wouldn't shoot me. You got no legal right to +detain me." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd have to wrastle that out with the coroner afterward, I expect," +replied Dingwell casually. "Not thinking of leaving me, are you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no! No. Not at all. I was just kinder talking." +</P> + +<P> +It was seven miles from Lonesome Park to Battle Butte. Fox kept up a +kind of ingratiating whine whenever the road was so rough that the +horses had to fall into a walk. He was not sure whether when it came +to the pinch he could summon nerve to try a bolt, but he laid himself +out to establish friendly relations. Dingwell, reading him like a +primer, cocked a merry eye at the man and grinned. +</P> + +<P> +About a mile from Battle Butte they caught up with another rider, a +young woman of perhaps twenty. The dark, handsome face that turned to +see who was coming would have been a very attractive one except for its +look of sulky rebellion. From the mop of black hair tendrils had +escaped and brushed the wet cheeks flushed by the sting of the rain. +The girl rode splendidly. Even the slicker that she wore could not +disguise the flat back and the erect carriage of the slender body. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell lifted his hat. "Good-evenin', Miss Rutherford." +</P> + +<P> +She nodded curtly. Her intelligent eyes passed from his to those of +Fox. A question and an answer, neither of them in words, flashed forth +and back between Beulah Rutherford and the little man. +</P> + +<P> +Dave took a hand in the line-up as they fell into place beside each +other. "Hold on, Fox. You keep to the left of the road. I'll ride +next you with Miss Rutherford on my right." He explained to the girl +with genial mockery his reason. "Chet and I are such <I>tillicums</I> we +hate to let any one get between us." +</P> + +<P> +Bluntly the girl spoke out, "What's the matter?" +</P> + +<P> +The cattleman lifted his eyebrows in amused surprise. "Why, nothing at +all, I reckon. There's nothing the matter, is there, Chet?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've got an engagement to meet your father and he won't let me go," +blurted out Fox. +</P> + +<P> +"When did you make that hurry-up appointment, Chet?" laughed Dingwell. +"You didn't seem in no manner of hurry when you was lying in the +mesquite back there at Lonesome Park." +</P> + +<P> +"You've got no business to keep him here. He can go if he wants to," +flashed the young woman. +</P> + +<P> +"You hear that, Chet. You can go if you want to," murmured Dave with +good-natured irony. +</P> + +<P> +"Said he'd shoot me in the back if I hit the trail any faster," Fox +snorted to the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"He wouldn't dare," flamed Beulah Rutherford. +</P> + +<P> +Her sultry eyes attacked Dingwell. +</P> + +<P> +He smiled, not a whit disturbed. "You see how it is, Chet. Maybe I +will; maybe I won't. Be a sport and you'll find out." +</P> + +<P> +For a minute the three rode in silence except for the sound of the +horses moving. Beulah did not fully understand the situation, but it +was clear to her that somehow Dingwell was interfering with a plan of +her people. Her untamed youth resented the high-handed way in which he +seemed to be doing it. What right had he to hold Chet Fox a prisoner +at the point of a rifle? +</P> + +<P> +She asked a question flatly. "Have you got a warrant for Chet's +arrest?" +</P> + +<P> +"Only old Tried and True here." Dave patted the barrel of his weapon. +</P> + +<P> +"You're not a deputy sheriff?" +</P> + +<P> +"No-o. Not officially." +</P> + +<P> +"What has Chet done?" +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell regarded the other man humorously. "What have you done, Chet? +You must 'a' broke some ordinance in that long career of +disrespectability of yours. I reckon we'll put it that you obstructed +traffic at Lonesome Park." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Rutherford said no more. The rain had given way to a gentle mist. +Presently she took off her slicker and held it on the left side of the +saddle to fold. The cattleman leaned toward her to lend a hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Lemme roll it up," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I can." +</P> + +<P> +With the same motion the girl had learned in roping cattle she flung +the slicker over his head. Her weight on the left stirrup, she threw +her arms about him and drew the oil coat tight. +</P> + +<P> +"Run, Chet!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +Fox was off like a flash. +</P> + +<P> +Hampered by his rifle, Dave could use only one hand to free himself. +The Rutherford girl clung as if her arms had been ropes of steel. +Before he had shaken her off, the runaway was a hundred yards down the +road galloping for dear life. +</P> + +<P> +Dave raised his gun. Beulah struck the barrel down with her quirt. He +lowered the rifle, turned to her, and smiled. His grin was rueful but +friendly. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a right enterprising young lady for a schoolmarm, but I +wouldn't have shot Chet, anyhow. The circumstances don't warrant it." +</P> + +<P> +She swung from the saddle and picked her coat out of the mud where it +had fallen. Her lithe young figure was supple as that of a boy. +</P> + +<P> +"You've spoiled my coat," she charged resentfully. +</P> + +<P> +The injustice of this tickled him. "I'll buy you a new one when we get +to town," he told her promptly. +</P> + +<P> +Her angry dignity gave her another inch of height. "I'll attend to +that, Mr. Dingwell. Suppose you ride on and leave me alone. I won't +detain you." +</P> + +<P> +"Meaning that she doesn't like your company, Dave," he mused aloud, +eyes twinkling. "She seemed kinder fond of you, too, a minute ago." +</P> + +<P> +Almost she stamped her foot. "Will you go? Or shall I?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm going, Miss Rutherford. If I wasn't such an aged, decrepit +wreck I'd come up and be one of your scholars. Anyhow, I'm real glad +to have met you. No, I can't stay longer. So sorry. Good-bye." +</P> + +<P> +He cantered down the road in the same direction Fox had taken. It +happened that he, too, wanted to be alone, for he had a problem to +solve that would not wait. Fox had galloped in to warn the Rutherford +gang that he had the gold. How long it would take him to round up two +or three of them would depend on chance. Dave knew that they might be +waiting for him before he reached town. He had to get rid of the +treasure between that spot and town, or else he had to turn on his +tired horse and try to escape to the hills. Into his mind popped a +possible solution of the difficulty. It would depend on whether luck +was for or against him. To dismount and hide the sack was impossible, +both because Beulah Rutherford was on his heels and because the muddy +road would show tracks where he had stopped. His plan was to hide it +without leaving the saddle. +</P> + +<P> +He did. At the outskirts of Battle Butte he crossed the bridge over +Big Creek and deflected to the left. He swung up one street and down +another beside which ran a small field of alfalfa on one side. A +hundred yards beyond it he met another rider, a man called Slim +Sanders, who worked for Buck Rutherford as a cow-puncher. +</P> + +<P> +The two men exchanged nods without stopping. Apparently the news that +Fox had brought was unknown to the cowboy. But Dingwell knew he was on +his way to the Legal Tender Saloon, which was the hang-out of the +Rutherford followers. In a few minutes Sanders would get his orders. +</P> + +<P> +Dave rode to the house of Sheriff Sweeney. He learned there that the +sheriff was downtown. Dingwell turned toward the business section of +the town and rode down the main street. From a passer-by he learned +that Sweeney had gone into the Legal Tender a few minutes before. In +front of that saloon he dismounted. +</P> + +<P> +Fifty yards down the street three men were walking toward him. He +recognized them as Buck Rutherford, Sanders, and Chet Fox. The little +man walked between the other two and told his story excitedly. +Dingwell did not wait for them. He had something he wanted to tell +Sweeney and he passed at once into the saloon. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter III +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Old-Timer Sits into a Big Game +</H3> + + +<P> +The room into which Dingwell had stepped was as large as a public +dance-hall. Scattered in one part or another of it, singly or in +groups, were fifty or sixty men. In front, to the right, was the bar, +where some cowmen and prospectors were lined up before a counter upon +which were bottles and glasses. A bartender in a white linen jacket +was polishing the walnut top with a cloth. +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head in answer to the invitation to drink that came to +him at once. Casually he chatted with acquaintances as he worked his +way toward the rear. This part of the room was a gambling resort. +Among the various methods of separating the prodigal from his money +were roulette, faro, keno, chuckaluck, and poker tables. Around these +a motley assemblage was gathered. Rich cattlemen brushed shoulders +with the outlaws who were rustling their calves. Mexicans without a +nickel stood side by side with Eastern consumptives out for their +health. Chinese laundrymen played the wheel beside miners and +cowpunchers. Stolid, wooden-faced Indians in blankets from the +reservation watched the turbid life of the Southwest as it eddied +around them. The new West was jostling the old West into the +background, but here the vivid life of the frontier was making its last +stand. +</P> + +<P> +By the time that Dave had made a tour of two thirds of the room he knew +that Sheriff Sweeney was not among those present. His inquiries +brought out the fact that he must have just left. Dingwell sauntered +toward the door, intending to follow him, but what he saw there changed +his mind. Buck Rutherford and Slim Sanders were lounging together at +one end of the bar. It took no detective to understand that they were +watching the door. A glance to the rear showed Dave two more +Rutherfords at the back exit. That he would have company in case he +left was a safe guess. +</P> + +<P> +The cattleman chuckled. The little devils of mischief already +mentioned danced in his eyes. If they were waiting for him to go, he +would see that they had a long session of it. Dave was in no hurry. +The night was young yet, and in any case the Legal Tender never closed. +The key had been thrown away ten years before. He could sit it out as +long as the Rutherfords could. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell was confident no move would be made against him in public. +The sentiment of the community had developed since that distant day +when the Rutherford gang had shot down Jack Beaudry in open daylight. +Deviltry had to be done under cover now. Moreover, Dave was in the +peculiar situation of advantage that the outlaws could not kill him +until they knew where he had hidden the gold. So far as the +Rutherfords went, he was just now the goose that laid the golden egg. +</P> + +<P> +He stood chatting with another cattleman for a few moments, then +drifted back to the rear of the hall again. Underneath an elk's head +with magnificent antlers a party sat around a table playing draw poker +with a skinned deck. Two of them were wall-eyed strangers whom +Dingwell guessed to be professional tinhorns. Another ran a curio +store in town. The fourth was Dan Meldrum, one of the toughest crooks +in the county. Nineteen years ago Sheriff Beaudry had sent him to the +penitentiary for rustling calves. The fifth player sat next to the +wall. He was a large, broad-shouldered man close to fifty. His face +had the weather-beaten look of confidence that comes to an outdoor +Westerner used to leading others. +</P> + +<P> +While Dave was moving past this table, he noticed that Chet Fox was +whispering in the ear of the man next the wall. The poker-player +nodded, and at the same moment his glance met that of Dingwell. The +gray eyes of the big fellow narrowed and grew chill. Fox, starting to +move away, recognized the cattleman from whom he had escaped half an +hour before. Taken by surprise, the little spy looked guilty as an +urchin caught stealing apples. +</P> + +<P> +It took no clairvoyant to divine what the subject of that whispered +colloquy had been. The cheerful grin of Dave included impartially Fox, +Meldrum, and the player beneath the elk's head. +</P> + +<P> +The ex-convict spoke first. "Come back to sit in our game, Dave?" he +jeered. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell understood that this was a challenge. It was impossible to +look on the ugly, lupine face of the man, marked by the ravages of +forty years of vice and unbridled passion, without knowing that he was +ready for trouble now. But Meldrum was a mere detail of a situation +piquant enough even for so light-hearted a son of the Rockies as this +cattleman. Dave had already invited himself into a far bigger game of +the Rutherford clan than this. Moreover, just now he was so far ahead +that he had cleared the table of all the stakes. Meldrum knew this. +So did Hal Rutherford, the big man sitting next the wall. What would +be their next move? Perhaps if he joined them he would find out. This +course held its dangers, but long experience had taught him that to +walk through besetting perils was less risk than to run from them. +</P> + +<P> +"If that's an invitation, Dan, you're on," he answered gayly. "Just a +minute, and I'll join you. I want to send a message to Sweeney." +</P> + +<P> +Without even looking at Meldrum to see the effect of this, Dave +beckoned a Mexican standing near. "Tell the sheriff I want to see him +here <I>pronto</I>. You win a dollar if he is back within an hour." +</P> + +<P> +The Mexican disappeared. Fox followed him. +</P> + +<P> +The cattleman drew in his chair and was introduced to the two +strangers. The quick, searching look he gave each confirmed his first +impression. These men were professional gamblers. It occurred to him +that they had made a singularly poor choice of victims in Dan Meldrum +and Hal Rutherford. Either of them would reach for his gun at the +first evidence of crooked play. +</P> + +<P> +No man in Battle Butte was a better poker psychologist than Dingwell, +but to-night cards did not interest him. He was playing a bigger game. +His subconscious mind was alert for developments. Since only his +surface attention was given to poker he played close. +</P> + +<P> +While Rutherford dealt the cards he talked at Dave. "So you're +expecting Sweeney, are you? Been having trouble with any one?" +</P> + +<P> +"Or expect to have any?" interjected Meldrum, insolence in his shifty +pig eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"No, not looking for any," answered Dingwell amiably. "Fact is, I was +prospecting around Lonesome Park and found a gold mine. Looks good, so +I thought I'd tell Sweeney about it.… Up to me? I've got +openers." He pushed chips to the center of the table. +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford also pushed chips forward. "I'll trail along.… You +got an idea of taking in Sweeney as a partner? I'm looking for a good +investment. <I>It would pay you to take me in rather than Sweeney</I>." +</P> + +<P> +Three of those at the table accepted this talk at its face value. They +did not sense the tension underneath the apparently casual +give-and-take. Two of them stayed and called for cards. But Dave +understood that he had been offered a compromise. Rutherford had +proposed to divide the gold stolen from the express car, and the +proffer carried with it a threat in case of refusal. +</P> + +<P> +"Two when you get to me.… No, I reckon I'll stick to the sheriff. +I've kinda arranged the deal." +</P> + +<P> +As Rutherford slid two cards across to him the eyes of the men met. +"Call it off. Sweeney is not the kind of a partner to stay with you to +the finish if your luck turns bad. When I give my word I go through." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell looked at his cards. "Check to the pat hand.… Point is, +Hal, that I don't expect my luck to turn bad." +</P> + +<P> +"Hmp! Go in with Sweeney and you'll have bad luck all right. <I>I'll +promise you that</I>. Better talk this over with me and put a deal +through." He rapped on the table to show that he too passed without +betting. +</P> + +<P> +The curio dealer checked and entered a mild protest. "Is this a poker +game or a conversazione, gentlemen? It's stuck with Meldrum. I reckon +he's off in Lonesome Park gold-mining the way he's been listening." +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum brought his attention back to the game and bet his pat hand. +Dave called. After a moment's hesitation Rutherford threw down his +cards. +</P> + +<P> +"There's such a thing as pushing your luck too far," he commented. +"Now, take old man Crawford. He was mightily tickled when his brother +Jim left him the Frying Pan Ranch. But that wasn't good enough as it +stood. He had to try to better it by marrying the Swede hash-slinger +from Los Angeles. Later she fed him arsenic in his coffee. A man's a +fool to overplay his luck." +</P> + +<P> +At the showdown Meldrum disclosed a four-card flush and the cattleman +three jacks. +</P> + +<P> +As Dave raked in the pot he answered Rutherford casually. "Still, he +hadn't ought to underplay it either. The other fellow may be out on a +limb." +</P> + +<P> +"Say, is it any of your business how I play my cards?" demanded +Meldrum, thrusting his chin toward Dingwell. +</P> + +<P> +"Absolutely none," replied Dave evenly. +</P> + +<P> +"Cut that out, Dan," ordered Rutherford curtly. +</P> + +<P> +The ex-convict mumbled something into his beard, but subsided. +</P> + +<P> +Two hours had slipped away before Dingwell commented on the fact that +the sheriff had not arrived. He did not voice his suspicion that the +Mexican had been intercepted by the Rutherfords. +</P> + +<P> +"Looks like Sweeney didn't get my message," he said lazily. "You never +can tell when a Mexican is going to get too tired to travel farther." +</P> + +<P> +"Better hook up with me on that gold-mine proposition, Dave," Hal +Rutherford suggested again. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I reckon not, Hal. Much obliged, just the same." +</P> + +<P> +Dave began to watch the game more closely. There were points about it +worth noticing. For one thing, the two strangers had a habit of +getting the others into a pot and cross-raising them exasperatingly. +If Dave had kept even, it was only because he refused to be drawn into +inviting pots when either of the strangers was dealing. He observed +that though they claimed not to have met each other before there was +team work in their play. Moreover, the yellow and blue chips were +mostly piled up in front of them, while Meldrum, Rutherford, and the +curio dealer had all bought several times. Dave waited until his +doubts of crooked work became certainty before he moved. +</P> + +<P> +"The game's framed. Blair has rung in a cold deck on us. He and Smith +are playing in cahoots." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell had risen. His hands rested on the table as an assurance that +he did not mean to back up his charge with a gunplay unless it became +necessary. +</P> + +<P> +The man who called himself Blair wasted no words in denial. His right +hand slid toward his hip pocket. Simultaneously the fingers of Dave's +left hand knotted to a fist, his arm jolted forward, and the bony +knuckles collided with the jaw of the tinhorn. The body of the +cattleman had not moved. There seemed no special effort in the blow, +but Blair went backward in his chair heels over head. The man writhed +on the floor, turned over, and lay still. +</P> + +<P> +From the moment that he had launched his blow Dave wasted no more +attention on Blair. His eyes fastened upon Smith. The man made a +motion to rise. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you," advised the cattleman gently. "Not till I say so, Mr. +Smith. There's no manner of hurry a-tall. Meldrum, see what he's got +in his right-hand pocket. Better not object, Smith, unless you want to +ride at your own funeral." +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum drew from the man's pocket a pack of cards. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought so. They've been switching decks on us. The one we're +playing with is marked. Run your finger over the ace of clubs there, +Hal.… How about it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pin-pricked," announced Rutherford. "And they've garnered in most of +the chips. What do you think?" +</P> + +<P> +"That I'll beat both their heads off," cut in Meldrum, purple with rage. +</P> + +<P> +"Not necessary, Dan," vetoed Dingwell. "We'll shear the wolves. Each +of you help yourself to chips equal to the amount you have lost.… +Now, Mr. Smith, you and your partner will dig up one hundred and +ninety-three dollars for these gentlemen." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" sputtered Smith. "It's all a frame-up. We've been playing a +straight game. But say we haven't. They have got their chips back. +Let them cash in to the house. What more do you want?" +</P> + +<P> +"One hundred and ninety-three dollars. I thought I mentioned that +already. You tried to rob these men of that amount, but you didn't get +away with it. Now you'll rob yourself of just the same sum. Frisk +yourself, Mr. Smith." +</P> + +<P> +"Not on your life I won't. It… it's an outrage. It's robbery. +I'll not stand for it." His words were brave, but the voice of the man +quavered. The bulbous, fishy eyes of the cheat wavered before the +implacable ones of the cattleman. +</P> + +<P> +"Come through." +</P> + +<P> +The gambler's gaze passed around the table and found no help from the +men he had been robbing. A crowd was beginning to gather. Swiftly he +decided to pay forfeit and get out while there was still time. He drew +a roll of bills from his pocket and with trembling fingers counted out +the sum named. He shoved it across the table and rose. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, take your friend and both of you hit the trail out of town," +ordered the cattleman. +</P> + +<P> +Blair had by this time got to his feet and was leaning stupidly on a +chair. His companion helped him from the room. At the door he turned +and glared at Dingwell. +</P> + +<P> +"You're going to pay for this—and pay big," he spat out, his voice +shaking with rage. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, that's all right," answered Dingwell easily. +</P> + +<P> +The game broke up. Rutherford nodded a good-night to the cattleman and +left with Meldrum. Presently Dave noticed that Buck and the rest of +the clan had also gone. Only Slim Sanders was left, and he was playing +the wheel. +</P> + +<P> +"Time to hit the hay," Dave yawned. +</P> + +<P> +The bartender called "Good-night" as Dingwell went out of the swinging +doors. He said afterward that he thought he heard the sound of +scuffling and smothered voices outside. But his interest in the matter +did not take him as far as the door to find out if anything was wrong. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter IV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Royal Beaudry Hears a Call +</H3> + + +<P> +A bow-legged little man with the spurs still jingling on his heels +sauntered down one side of the old plaza. He passed a train of +fagot-laden burros in charge of two Mexican boys from Tesuque, the +sides and back of each diminished mule so packed with firewood that it +was a comical caricature of a beruffed Elizabethan dame. Into the +plaza narrow, twisted streets of adobe rambled carelessly. One of +these led to the San Miguel Mission, said to be the oldest church in +the United States. +</P> + +<P> +An entire side of the square was occupied by a long, one-story adobe +structure. This was the Governor's Palace. For three hundred years it +had been the seat of turbulent and tragic history. Its solid walls had +withstood many a siege and had stifled the cries of dozens of tortured +prisoners. The mail-clad Spanish explorers Penelosa and De Salivar had +from here set out across the desert on their search for gold and glory. +In one of its rooms the last Mexican governor had dictated his defiance +to General Kearny just before the Stars and Stripes fluttered from its +flagpole. The Spaniard, the Indian, the Mexican, and the American in +turn had written here in action the romance of the Southwest. +</P> + +<P> +The little man was of the outdoors. His soft gray creased hat, the +sun-tan on his face and neck, the direct steadiness of the blue eyes +with the fine lines at the corners, were evidence enough even if he had +not carried in the wrinkles of his corduroy suit about seven pounds of +white powdered New Mexico. +</P> + +<P> +He strolled down the sidewalk in front of the Palace, the while he +chewed tobacco absent-mindedly. There was something very much on his +mind, so that it was by chance alone that his eye lit on a new tin sign +tacked to the wall. He squinted at it incredulously. His mind +digested the information it contained while his jaws worked steadily. +</P> + +<P> +The sign read:— +</P> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DESPACHO +<BR><BR> +DE +<BR><BR> +ROYAL BEAUDRY, LICENDIADO. +</H3> + +<P> +For those who preferred another language, a second announcement +appeared below the first:— +</P> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ROYAL BEAUDRY. +<BR><BR> +ATTORNEY AT LAW.<BR> +</H3> + +<P> +"Sure, and it must be the boy himself," said the little man aloud. +</P> + +<P> +He opened the door and walked in. +</P> + +<P> +A young man sat reading with his heels crossed on the top of a desk. A +large calf-bound volume was open before him, but the book in the hands +of the youth looked less formidable. It bore the title, "Adventures of +Sherlock Holmes." The budding lawyer flashed a startled glance at his +caller and slid Dr. Watson's hero into an open drawer. +</P> + +<P> +The visitor grinned and remarked with a just perceptible Irish accent: +"'Tis a good book. I've read it myself." +</P> + +<P> +The embryo Blackstone blushed. "Say, are you a client?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No-o." +</P> + +<P> +"Gee! I was afraid you were my first. I like your looks. I'd hate +for you to have the bad luck to get me for your lawyer." He laughed, +boyishly. There was a very engaging quality about his candor. +</P> + +<P> +The Irishman shot an abrupt question at him. "Are you John Beaudry's +son—him that was fighting sheriff of Washington County twenty years +ago?" +</P> + +<P> +A hint of apprehension flickered into the eyes of the young man. +"Yes," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Your father was a gr-reat man, the gamest officer that ever the Big +Creek country saw. Me name is Patrick Ryan." +</P> + +<P> +"Glad to meet any friend of my father, Mr. Ryan." Roy Beaudry offered +his hand. His fine eyes glowed. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait," warned the little cowpuncher grimly. "I'm no liar, whativer +else I've been. Mebbe you'll be glad you've met me—an' mebbe you +won't. First off, I was no friend of your father. I trailed with the +Rutherford outfit them days. It's all long past and I'll tell youse +straight that he just missed me in the round-up that sent two of our +bunch to the pen." +</P> + +<P> +In the heart of young Beaudry a dull premonition of evil stirred. His +hand fell limply. Why had this man come out of the dead past to seek +him? His panic-stricken eyes clung as though fascinated to those of +Ryan. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean … that you were a rustler?" +</P> + +<P> +Ryan looked full at him. "You've said it. I was a wild young colt +thim days, full of the divil and all. But remimber this. I held no +grudge at Jack Beaudry. That's what he was elected for—to put me and +my sort out of business. Why should I hate him because he was man +enough to do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's not what some of your friends thought." +</P> + +<P> +"You're right, worse luck. I was out on the range when it happened. +I'll say this for Hal Rutherford. He was full of bad whiskey when your +father was murdered.… But that ended it for me. I broke with the +Huerfano gang outfit and I've run straight iver since." +</P> + +<P> +"Why have you come to me? What do you want?" asked the young lawyer, +his throat dry. +</P> + +<P> +"I need your help." +</P> + +<P> +"What for? Why should I give it? I don't know you." +</P> + +<P> +"It's not for mysilf that I want it. There's a friend of your father +in trouble. When I saw the sign with your name on it I came in to tell +you." +</P> + +<P> +"What sort of trouble?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's a long story. Did you iver hear of Dave Dingwell?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I've never met him, but he put me through law school." +</P> + +<P> +"How come that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I was living in Denver with my aunt. A letter came from Mr. Dingwell +offering to pay the expenses of my education. He said he owed that +much to my father." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, then, Dave Dingwell has disappeared off the earth." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean—disappeared?" asked Roy. +</P> + +<P> +"He walked out of the Legal Tender Saloon one night and no friend of +his has seen him since. That was last Tuesday." +</P> + +<P> +"Is that all? He may have gone hunting—or to Denver—or Los Angeles." +</P> + +<P> +"No, he didn't do any one of the three. He was either murdered or else +hid out in the hills by them that had a reason for it." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you suspect some one?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do," answered Ryan promptly. "If he was killed, two tinhorn +gamblers did it. If he's under guard in the hills, the Rutherford gang +have got him." +</P> + +<P> +"The Rutherfords, the same ones that—?" +</P> + +<P> +"The ver-ry same—Hal and Buck and a brood of young hellions they have +raised." +</P> + +<P> +"But why should they kidnap Mr. Dingwell? If they had anything against +him, why wouldn't they kill him?" +</P> + +<P> +"If the Rutherfords have got him it is because he knows something they +want to know. Listen, and I'll tell you what I think." +</P> + +<P> +The Irishman drew up a chair and told Beaudry the story of that night +in the Legal Tender as far as he could piece it together. He had +talked with one of the poker-players, the man that owned the curio +store, and from him had gathered all he could remember of the talk +between Dingwell and Rutherford. +</P> + +<P> +"Get these points, lad," Ryan went on. "Dave comes to town from a long +day's ride. He tells Rutherford that he has been prospecting and has +found gold in Lonesome Park. Nothing to that. Dave is a cattleman, +not a prospector. Rutherford knows that as well as I do. But he falls +right in with Dingwell's story. He offers to go partners with Dave on +his gold mine—keeps talking about it—insists on going in with him." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see anything in that," said Roy. +</P> + +<P> +"You will presently. Keep it in mind that there wasn't any gold mine +and couldn't have been. That talk was a blind to cover something else. +Good enough. Now chew on this awhile. Dave sent a Mexican to bring +the sheriff, but Sweeney didn't come. He explained that he wanted to +go partners with Sweeney about this gold-mine proposition. If he was +talking about a real gold mine, that is teetotally unreasonable. +Nobody would pick Sweeney for a partner. He's a fathead and Dave +worked against him before election. But Sweeney <I>is sheriff of +Washington County</I>. Get that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose you mean that Dingwell had something on the Rutherfords and +was going to turn them over to the law." +</P> + +<P> +"You're getting warm, boy. Does the hold-up of the Pacific Flyer help +you any?" +</P> + +<P> +Roy drew a long breath of surprise. "You mean the Western Express +robbery two weeks ago?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure I mean that. Say the Rutherford outfit did that job." +</P> + +<P> +"And that Dingwell got evidence of it. But then they would kill him." +The heart of the young man sank. He had a warm place in it for this +unknown friend who had paid his law-school expenses. +</P> + +<P> +"You're forgetting about the gold mine Dave claimed to have found in +Lonesome Park. Suppose he was hunting strays and saw them cache their +loot somewhere. Suppose he dug it up. Say they knew he had it, but +didn't know where he had taken it. They couldn't kill him. They would +have to hold him prisoner till they could make him tell where it was." +</P> + +<P> +The young lawyer shook his head. "Too many <I>ifs</I>. Each one makes a +weak joint in your argument. Put them all together and it is full of +holes. Possible, but extremely improbable." +</P> + +<P> +An eager excitement flashed in the blue eyes of the Irishman. +</P> + +<P> +"You're looking at the thing wrong end to. Get a grip on your facts +first. The Western Express Company was robbed of twenty thousand +dollars and the robbers were run into the hills. The Rutherford outfit +is the very gang to pull off that hold-up. Dave tells Hal Rutherford, +the leader of the tribe, that he has sent for the sheriff. Hal tries +to get him to call it off. Dave talks about a gold mine he has found +and Rutherford tries to fix up a deal with him. There's no <I>if</I> about +any of that, me young Sherlock Holmes." +</P> + +<P> +"No, you've built up a case. But there's a stronger case already built +for us, isn't there? Dingwell exposed the gamblers Blair and Smith, +knocked one of them cold, made them dig up a lot of money, and drove +them out of town. They left, swearing vengeance. He rides away, and +he is never seen again. The natural assumption is that they lay in +wait for him and killed him." +</P> + +<P> +"Then where is the body?" +</P> + +<P> +"Lying out in the cactus somewhere—or buried in the sand." +</P> + +<P> +"That wouldn't be a bad guess—if it wasn't for another bit of +testimony that came in to show that Dave was alive five hours after he +left the Legal Tender. A sheepherder on the Creosote Flats heard the +sound of horses' hoofs early next morning. He looked out of his tent +and saw three horses. Two of the riders carried rifles. The third +rode between them. He didn't carry any gun. They were a couple of +hundred yards away and the herder didn't recognize any of the men. But +it looked to him like the man without the gun was a prisoner." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what does that prove?" +</P> + +<P> +"If the man in the middle was Dave—and that's the hunch I'm betting on +to the limit—it lets out the tinhorns. Their play would be to kill +and make a quick getaway. There wouldn't be any object in their taking +a prisoner away off to the Flats. If this man was Dave, Blair and +Smith are eliminated from the list of suspects. That leaves the +Rutherfords." +</P> + +<P> +"But you don't know that this was Dingwell." +</P> + +<P> +"That's where you come in, me brave Sherlock. Dave's friends can't +move to help him. You see, they're all known men. It might be the end +of Dave if they lifted a finger. But you're not known to the +Rutherfords. You slip in over Wagon Wheel Gap to Huerfano Park, pick +up what you can, and come out to Battle Butte with your news." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean—spy on them?" +</P> + +<P> +"Of coorse." +</P> + +<P> +"But what if they suspected me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Then your heirs at law would collect the insurance," Ryan told him +composedly. +</P> + +<P> +Excuses poured out of young Beaudry one on top of another. "No, I +can't go. I won't mix up in it. It's not my affair. Besides, I can't +get away from my business." +</P> + +<P> +"I see your business keeps you jumping," dryly commented the Irishman. +"And you know best whether it's your affair." +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry could have stood it better if the man had railed at him, if he +had put up an argument to show why he must come to the aid of the +friend who had helped him. This cool, contemptuous dismissal of him +stung. He began to pace the room in rising excitement. +</P> + +<P> +"I hate that country up there. I've got no use for it. It killed my +mother just as surely as it did my father. I left there when I was a +child, but I'll never forget that dreadful day seventeen years ago. +Sometimes I wake in bed out of some devil's nightmare and live it over. +Why should I go back to that bloody battleground? Hasn't it cost me +enough already? It's easy for you to come and tell me to go to +Huerfano Park—" +</P> + +<P> +"Hold your horses, Mr. Beaudry. I'm not tellin' you to go. I've laid +the facts before ye. Go or stay as you please." +</P> + +<P> +"That's all very well," snapped back the young man. "But I know what +you'll think of me if I don't go." +</P> + +<P> +"What you'll think of yourself matters more. I haven't got to live +with ye for forty years." +</P> + +<P> +Roy Beaudry writhed. He was sensitive and high-strung. +Temperamentally he coveted the good opinion of those about him. +Moreover, he wanted to deserve it. No man had ever spoken to him in +just the tone of this little Irish cowpuncher, who had come out of +nowhere into his life and brought to him his first big problem for +decision. Even though the man had confessed himself a rustler, the +young lawyer could not escape his judgment. Pat Ryan might have ridden +on many lawless trails in his youth, but the dynamic spark of +self-respect still burned in his soul. He was a man, every inch of his +five-foot three. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to live at peace," the boy went on hotly. "Huerfano Park is +still in the dark ages. I'm no gunman. I stand for law and order. +This is the day of civilization. Why should I embroil myself with a +lot of murderous outlaws when what I want is to sit here and make +friends—?" +</P> + +<P> +The Irishman hammered his fist on the table and exploded. "Then sit +here, damn ye! But why the hell should any one want to make friends +with a white-livered pup like you? I thought you was Jack Beaudry's +son, but I'll niver believe it. Jack didn't sit on a padded chair and +talk about law and order. By God, no! He went out with a six-gun and +made them. No gamer, whiter man ever strapped a forty-four to his hip. +<I>He</I> niver talked about what it would cost him to go through for his +friends. He just went the limit without any guff." +</P> + +<P> +Ryan jingled out of the room in hot scorn and left one young peace +advocate in a turmoil of emotion. +</P> + +<P> +Young Beaudry did not need to discuss with himself the ethics of the +situation. A clear call had come to him on behalf of the man who had +been his best friend, even though he had never met him. He must answer +that call, or he must turn his back on it. Sophistry would not help at +all. There were no excuses his own mind would accept. +</P> + +<P> +But Royal Beaudry had been timid from his childhood. He had inherited +fear. The shadow of it had always stretched toward him. His cheeks +burned with shame to recall that it had not been a week since he had +looked under the bed at night before getting in to make sure nobody was +hidden there. What was the use of blinking the truth? He was a born +coward. It was the skeleton in the closet of his soul. His schooldays +had been haunted by the ghost of dread. Never in his life had he +played truant, though he had admired beyond measure the reckless little +dare-devils who took their fun and paid for it. He had contrived to +avoid fights with his mates and thrashings from the teachers. On the +one occasion when public opinion had driven him to put up his fists, he +had been saved from disgrace only because the bully against whom he had +turned proved to be an arrant craven. +</P> + +<P> +He remembered how he had been induced to go out and try for the +football team at the university. His fellows knew him as a fair +gymnast and a crack tennis player. He was muscular, well-built, and +fast on his feet, almost perfectly put together for a halfback. On the +second day of practice he had shirked a hard tackle, though it happened +that nobody suspected the truth but himself. Next morning he turned in +his suit with the plea that he had promised his aunt not to play. +</P> + +<P> +Now trepidation was at his throat again, and there was no escape from a +choice that would put a label on him. It had been his right to play +football or not as he pleased. But this was different. A summons had +come to his loyalty, to the fundamental manhood of him. If he left +David Dingwell to his fate, he could never look at himself again in the +glass without knowing that he was facing a dastard. +</P> + +<P> +The trouble was that he had too much imagination. As a child he had +conjured dragons out of the darkness that had no existence except in +his hectic fancy. So it was now. He had only to give his mind play to +see himself helpless in the hands of the Rutherfords. +</P> + +<P> +But he was essentially stanch and generous. Fate had played him a +scurvy trick in making him a trembler, but he knew it was not in him to +turn his back on Dingwell. No matter how much he might rebel and +squirm he would have to come to time in the end. +</P> + +<P> +After a wretched afternoon he hunted up Ryan at his hotel. +</P> + +<P> +"When do you want me to start?" he asked sharply. +</P> + +<P> +The little cowpuncher was sitting in the lobby reading a newspaper. He +took one look at the harassed youth and jumped up. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, you're all right. Put her there." +</P> + +<P> +Royal's cold hand met the rough one of Ryan. The shrewd eyes of the +Irishman judged the other. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew youse couldn't be a quitter and John Beaudry's son," he +continued. "Why, come to that, the sooner you start the quicker." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll have to change my name." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure you will. And you'd better peddle something—insurance, or +lightning rods, or 'The Royal Gall'ry of Po'try 'n Art' or—" +</P> + +<P> +"'Life of the James and Younger Brothers.' That ought to sell well +with the Rutherfords," suggested Roy satirically, trying to rise to the +occasion. +</P> + +<P> +"Jess Tighe and Dan Meldrum don't need any pointers from the James +Boys." +</P> + +<P> +"Tighe and Meldrum— Who are they?" +</P> + +<P> +"Meldrum is a coyote your father trapped and sent to the pen. He's a +bad actor for fair. And Tighe—well, if you put a hole in his head +you'd blow out the brains of the Rutherford gang. For hiven's sake +don't let Jess know who you are. All of sivinteen years he's been a +cripple on crutches, and 't was your father that laid him up the day of +his death. He's a rivingeful divil is Jess." +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry made no comment. It seemed to him that his heart was of +chilled lead. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter V +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Hill Girl +</H3> + + +<P> +The Irish cowpuncher guided young Royal Beaudry through Wagon Wheel Gap +himself. They traveled in the night, since it would not do for the two +to be seen together. In the early morning Ryan left the young man and +turned back toward Battle Butte. The way to Huerfano Park, even from +here, was difficult to find, but Roy had a map drawn from memory by Pat. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll not guarantee it," the little rider had cautioned. "It's been +many a year since I was in to the park and maybe my memory is playing +tricks. But it's the best I can do for you." +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry spent the first half of the day in a pine grove far up in the +hills. It would stir suspicion if he were seen on the road at dawn, +for that would mean that he must have come through the Gap in the +night. So he unsaddled and stretched himself on the sun-dappled ground +for an hour or two's rest. He did not expect to sleep, even though he +had been up all night. He was too uneasy in mind and his nerves were +too taut. +</P> + +<P> +But it was a perfect day of warm spring sunshine. He looked up into a +blue unflecked sky. The tireless hum of insects made murmurous music +all about him. The air was vocal with the notes of nesting birds. His +eyes closed drowsily. +</P> + +<P> +When he opened them again, the sun was high in the heavens. He saddled +and took the trail. Within the hour he knew that he was lost. Either +he had mistaken some of the landmarks of Ryan's sketchy map or else the +cowpuncher had forgotten the lay of the country. +</P> + +<P> +Still, Roy knew roughly the general direction of Huerfano Park. If he +kept going he was bound to get nearer. Perhaps he might run into a +road or meet some sheepherder who would put him on the right way. +</P> + +<P> +He was in the heart of the watershed where Big Creek heads. +Occasionally from a hilltop he could see the peaks rising gaunt in +front of him. Between him and them were many miles of tangled +mesquite, wooded cañons, and hills innumerable. Somewhere among the +recesses of these land waves Huerfano Park was hidden. +</P> + +<P> +It was three o'clock by Royal's watch when he had worked to the top of +a bluff which looked down upon a wooded valley. His eyes swept the +landscape and came to rest upon an object moving slowly in the +mesquite. He watched it incuriously, but his interest quickened when +it came out of the bushes into a dry water-course and he discovered +that the figure was that of a human being. The person walked with an +odd, dragging limp. Presently he discerned that the traveler below was +a woman and that she was pulling something after her. For perhaps +fifty yards she would keep going and then would stop. Once she +crouched down over her load. +</P> + +<P> +Roy cupped his hands at his mouth and shouted. The figure straightened +alertly and looked around. He called to her again. His voice must +have reached her very faintly. She did not try to answer in words, but +fired twice with a revolver. Evidently she had not yet seen him. +</P> + +<P> +That there was something wrong Beaudry felt sure. He did not know +what, nor did he waste any time speculating about it. The easiest +descent to the valley was around the rear of the bluff, but Roy +clambered down a heavily wooded gulch a little to the right. He saved +time by going directly. +</P> + +<P> +When Roy saw the woman again he was close upon her. She was stooped +over something and her back and arms showed tension. At sound of his +approach she flung up quickly the mass of inky black hair that had +hidden her bent face. As she rose it became apparent that she was tall +and slender, and that the clear complexion, just now at least, was +quite without color. +</P> + +<P> +Moving forward through the underbrush, Beaudry took stock of this dusky +nymph with surprise. In her attitude was something wild and free and +proud. It was as if she challenged his presence even though she had +summoned him. Across his mind flashed the thought that this was woman +primeval before the conventions of civilization had tamed her to its +uses. +</P> + +<P> +Her intent eyes watched him steadily as he came into the open. +</P> + +<P> +"Who are you?" she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"I was on the bluff and saw you. I thought you were in trouble. You +limped as if—" +</P> + +<P> +He stopped, amazed. For the first time he saw that her foot was caught +in a wolf trap. This explained the peculiarity of gait he had noticed +from above. She had been dragging the heavy Newhouse trap and the clog +with her as she walked. One glance at her face was enough to show how +greatly she was suffering. +</P> + +<P> +Fortunately she was wearing a small pair of high-heeled boots such as +cowpunchers use, and the stiff leather had broken the shock of the blow +from the steel jaws. Otherwise the force of the released spring must +have shattered her ankle. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't quite open the trap," she explained. "If you will help me—" +</P> + +<P> +Roy put his weight on the springs and removed the pressure of the jaws. +The girl drew out her numb leg. She straightened herself, swayed, and +clutched blindly at him. Next moment her body relaxed and she was +unconscious in his arms. +</P> + +<P> +He laid her on the moss and looked about for water. There was some in +his canteen, but that was attached to the saddle on the top of the +bluff. For present purposes it might as well have been at the North +Pole. He could not leave her while she was like this. But since he +had to be giving some first aid, he drew from her foot the boot that +had been in the steel trap, so as to relieve the ankle. +</P> + +<P> +Her eyelids fluttered, she gave a deep sigh, and looked with a +perplexed doubt upon the world to which she had just returned. +</P> + +<P> +"You fainted," Roy told her by way of explanation. +</P> + +<P> +The young woman winced and looked at her foot. The angry color flushed +into her cheeks. Her annoyance was at herself, but she visited it upon +him. +</P> + +<P> +"Who told you to take off my boot?" +</P> + +<P> +"I thought it might help the pain." +</P> + +<P> +She snatched up the boot and started to pull it on, but gave this up +with a long breath that was almost a groan. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a nice kind of a baby," she jeered. +</P> + +<P> +"It must hurt like sixty," he ventured. Then, after momentary +hesitation: "You'd better let me bind up your ankle. I have water in +my canteen. I'll run up and get some as soon as I'm through." +</P> + +<P> +There was something of sullen suspicion in the glance her dark eyes +flashed at him. +</P> + +<P> +"You can get me water if you want to," she told him, a little +ungraciously. +</P> + +<P> +He understood that his offer to tie up the ankle had been refused. +When he returned with his horse twenty minutes later, he knew why she +had let him go for the water. It had been the easiest way to get rid +of him for the time. The fat bulge beneath her stocking showed that +she had taken advantage of his absence to bind the bruised leg herself. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it better now—less painful?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +She dismissed his sympathy with a curt little nod. "I'm the biggest +fool in Washington County. We've been setting traps for wolves. +They've been getting our lambs. I jumped off my horse right into this +one. Blacky is a skittish colt and when the trap went off, he bolted." +</P> + +<P> +He smiled a little at the disgust she heaped upon herself. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have to ride my horse to your home. How far is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Five miles, maybe." The girl looked at her ankle resentfully. It was +plain that she did not relish the idea of being under obligations to +him. But to attempt to walk so far was out of the question. Even now +when she was not using the foot she suffered a good deal of pain. +</P> + +<P> +"Cornell isn't a bit skittish. He's an old plug. You'll find his gait +easy," Beaudry told her. +</P> + +<P> +If she had not wanted to keep her weight from the wounded ankle, she +would have rejected scornfully his offer to help her mount, for she was +used to flinging her lithe body into the saddle as easily as her +brothers did. The girl had read in books of men aiding women to reach +their seat on the back of a horse, but she had not the least idea how +the thing was done. Because of her ignorance she was embarrassed. The +result was that they boggled the business, and it was only at the third +attempt that he got her on as gracefully as if she had been a sack of +meal. +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry. I'm awfully awkward," he apologized. +</P> + +<P> +Again an angry flush stained her cheeks. The stupidity had been hers, +not his. She resented it that he was ready to take the blame,—read +into his manner a condescension he did not at all feel. +</P> + +<P> +"I know whose fault it was. I'm not a fool," she snapped brusquely. +</P> + +<P> +It added to her irritation at making such an exhibition of clumsiness +that she was one of the best horsewomen in the Territory. Her life had +been an outdoor one, and she had stuck to the saddle on the back of +many an outlaw bronco without pulling leather. There were many things +of which she knew nothing. The ways of sophisticated women, the +conventions of society, were alien to her life. She was mountain-bred, +brought up among men, an outcast even from the better class of Battle +Butte. But the life of the ranch she knew. That this soft-cheeked boy +from town should think she did not know how to get on a horse was a +little too humiliating. Some day, if she ever got a chance, she would +let him see her vault into the saddle without touching the stirrups. +</P> + +<P> +The young man walking beside the horse might still be smooth-cheeked, +but he had the muscles of an athlete. He took the hills with a light, +springy step and breathed easily after stiff climbing. His mind was +busy making out what manner of girl this was. She was new to his +experience. He had met none like her. That she was a proud, sulky +creature he could easily guess from her quickness at taking offense. +She resented even the appearance of being ridiculous. Her acceptance +of his favors carried always the implication that she hated him for +offering them. It was a safe guess that back of those flashing eyes +were a passionate temper and an imperious will. +</P> + +<P> +It was evident that she knew the country as a teacher knows the primer +through which she leads her children. In daylight or in darkness, with +or without a trail, she could have followed almost an air-line to the +ranch. The paths she took wound in and out through unsuspected gorges +and over divides that only goats or cow-ponies could have safely +scrambled up and down. Hidden pockets had been cached here so +profusely by nature that the country was a maze. A man might have +found safety from pursuit in one of these for a lifetime if he had been +provisioned. +</P> + +<P> +"Where were you going when you found me?" the young woman asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Up to the mountain ranches of Big Creek. I was lost, so we ought to +put it that you found me," Beaudry answered with the flash of a +pleasant smile. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to do up there?" Her keen suspicious eyes watched +him warily. +</P> + +<P> +"Sell windmills if I can. I've got the best proposition on the market." +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you come away up here? Don't you know that the Big Creek +headwaters are off the map?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's it exactly," he replied. "I expect no agents get up here. +It's too hard to get in. I ought to be able to sell a whole lot easier +than if I took the valleys." He laughed a little, by way of taking her +into his confidence. "I'll tell the ranchers that if they buy my +windmills it will put Big Creek on the map." +</P> + +<P> +"They won't buy them," she added with a sudden flare of temper. "This +country up here is fifty years behind the times. It doesn't want to be +modern." +</P> + +<P> +Over a boulder bed, by rock fissures, they came at last to a sword gash +in the top of the world. It cleft a passage through the range to +another gorge, at the foot of which lay a mountain park dotted with +ranch buildings. On every side the valley was hemmed in by giant peaks. +</P> + +<P> +"Huerfano Park?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"You live here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." She pointed to a group of buildings to the left. "That is my +father's place. They call it the 'Horse Ranch.'" +</P> + +<P> +He turned startled eyes upon her. "Then you are—?" +</P> + +<P> +"Beulah Rutherford, the daughter of Hal Rutherford." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"Cherokee Street" +</H3> + + +<P> +She was the first to break the silence after her announcement. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter? You look as if you had seen a ghost." +</P> + +<P> +He had. The ghost of a dreadful day had leaped at him out of the past. +Men on murder bent were riding down the street toward their victim. At +the head of that company rode her father; the one they were about to +kill was his. A wave of sickness shuddered through him. +</P> + +<P> +"It—it's my heart," he answered in a smothered voice. "Sometimes it +acts queer. I'll be all right in a minute." +</P> + +<P> +The young woman drew the horse to a halt and looked down at him. Her +eyes, for the first time since they had met, registered concern. +</P> + +<P> +"The altitude, probably. We're over nine thousand feet high. You're +not used to walking in the clouds. We'll rest here." +</P> + +<P> +She swung from the saddle and trailed the reins. +</P> + +<P> +"Sit down," the girl ordered after she had seated herself +tailor-fashion on the moss. +</P> + +<P> +Reluctantly he did as he was told. He clenched his teeth in a cold +rage at himself. Unless he conquered that habit of flying into panic +at every crisis, he was lost. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah leaned forward and plucked an anemone blossom from a rock +cranny. "Isn't it wonderful how brave they are? You wouldn't think +they would have courage to grow up so fine and delicate among the rocks +without any soil to feed them." +</P> + +<P> +Often, in the days that followed, he thought of what she had said about +the anemones and applied it to herself. She, too, had grown up among +the rocks spiritually. He could see the effect of the barren soil in +her suspicious and unfriendly attitude toward life. There was in her +manner a resentment at fate, a bitterness that no girl of her years +should have felt. In her wary eyes he read distrust of him. Was it +because she was the product of heredity and environment? Her people +had outlawed themselves from society. They had lived with their hands +against the world of settled order. She could not escape the law that +their turbulent sins must be visited upon her. +</P> + +<P> +Young Beaudry followed the lead she had given him. "Yes, that is the +most amazing thing in life—that no matter how poor the soil and how +bad the conditions fine and lovely things grow up everywhere." +</P> + +<P> +The sardonic smile on her dark face mocked him. "You find a sermon in +it, do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +She plucked the wild flower out by the roots. "It struggles—and +struggles—and blooms for a day—and withers. What's the use?" she +demanded, almost savagely. Then, before he could answer, the girl +closed the door she had opened for him. "We must be moving. The sun +has already set in the valley." +</P> + +<P> +His glances swept the park below. Heavily wooded gulches pushed down +from the roots of the mountains that girt Huerfano to meet the fences +of the ranchers. The cliffs rose sheer and bleak. The panorama was a +wild and primitive one. It suggested to the troubled mind of the young +man an eagle's nest built far up in the crags from which the great bird +could swoop down upon its victims. He carried the figure farther. +Were these hillmen eagles, hawks, and vultures? And was he beside them +only a tomtit? He wished he knew. +</P> + +<P> +"Were you born here?" he asked, his thoughts jumping back to the girl +beside him. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"And you've always lived here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Except for one year when I went away to school." +</P> + +<P> +"Where?" +</P> + +<P> +"To Denver." +</P> + +<P> +The thing he was thinking jumped into words almost unconsciously. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you like it here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Like it?" Her dusky eyes stabbed at him. "What does it matter +whether I like it? I have to live here, don't I?" +</P> + +<P> +The swift parry and thrust of the girl was almost ferocious. +</P> + +<P> +"I oughtn't to have put it that way," he apologized. "What I meant +was, did you like your year outside at school?" +</P> + +<P> +Abruptly she rose. "We'll be going. You ride down. My foot is all +right now." +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't think of it," he answered promptly. "You might injure +yourself for life." +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you I'm all right," she said, impatience in her voice. +</P> + +<P> +To prove her claim she limped a few yards slowly. In spite of a +stubborn will the girl's breath came raggedly. Beaudry caught the +bridle of the horse and followed her. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't, please. You might hurt yourself," he urged. +</P> + +<P> +She nodded. "All right. Bring the horse close to that big rock." +</P> + +<P> +From the boulder she mounted without his help. Presently she asked a +careless question. +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you call him Cornell? Is it for the college?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I went to school there a year." He roused himself to answer +with the proper degree of lightness. "At the ball games we barked in +chorus a rhyme: 'Cornell I yell—yell—yell—Cornell.' That's how it +is with this old plug. If I want to get anywhere before the day after +to-morrow, I have to yell—yell—yell." +</P> + +<P> +The young woman showed in a smile a row of white strong teeth. "I see. +His real name is Day-After-To-Morrow, but you call him Cornell for +short. Why not just Corn? He would appreciate that, perhaps." +</P> + +<P> +"You've christened him, Miss Rutherford. Corn he shall be, henceforth +and forevermore." +</P> + +<P> +They picked their way carefully down through the cañon and emerged from +it into the open meadow. The road led plain, and straight to the horse +ranch. Just before they reached the house, a young man cantered up +from the opposite direction. +</P> + +<P> +He was a black-haired, dark young giant of about twenty-four. Before +he turned to the girl, he looked her companion over casually and +contemptuously. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Boots! Where's your horse?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Bolted. Hasn't Blacky got home yet?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't know. Haven't been home. Get thrown?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Stepped into one of your wolf traps." She turned to include +Beaudry. "This gentleman—Mr.—?" +</P> + +<P> +Caught at advantage, Roy groped wildly for the name he had chosen. His +mind was a blank. At random he snatched for the first that came. It +happened to be his old Denver address. +</P> + +<P> +"Cherokee Street," he gasped. +</P> + +<P> +Instantly he knew he had made a mistake. +</P> + +<P> +"That's odd," Beulah said. "There's a street called Cherokee in +Denver. Were you named for it?" +</P> + +<P> +He lied, not very valiantly. "Yes, I—I think so. You see, I was born +on it, and my parents—since their name was Street, anyhow,—thought it +a sort of distinction to give me that name. I've never much liked it." +</P> + +<P> +The girl spoke to the young man beside her. "Mr. Street helped me out +of the trap and lent me his horse to get home. I hurt my leg." She +proceeded to introductions. "Mr. Street, this is my brother, Jeff +Rutherford." +</P> + +<P> +Jeff nodded curtly. He happened to be dismounting, so he did not offer +to shake hands. Over the back of the horse he looked at his sister's +guest without comment. Again he seemed to dismiss him from his mind as +of no importance. When he spoke, it was to Beulah. +</P> + +<P> +"That's a fool business—stepping into wolf traps. How did you come to +do it?" +</P> + +<P> +"It doesn't matter how. I did it." +</P> + +<P> +"Hurt any?" +</P> + +<P> +She swung from the saddle and limped a few steps. "Nothing to make any +fuss about. Dad home?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yep. Set the trap again after you sprung it, Boots?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Set your own traps," she flung over her shoulder. "This way, Mr. +Street." +</P> + +<P> +Roy followed her to the house and was ushered into a room where a young +man sat cleaning a revolver with one leg thrown across a second chair. +Tilted on the back of his head was a cowpuncher's pinched-in hat. He +too had black hair and a black mustache. Like all the Rutherfords he +was handsome after a fashion, though the debonair recklessness of his +good looks offered a warning of temper. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lo, Boots," he greeted his sister, and fastened his black eyes on her +guest. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry noticed that he did not take off his hat or lift his leg from +the chair. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Street, this is my brother Hal. I don't need to tell you that he +hasn't been very well brought up." +</P> + +<P> +Young Rutherford did not accept the hint. "My friends take me as they +find me, sis. Others can go to Guinea." +</P> + +<P> +Beulah flushed with annoyance. She drew one of the gauntlets from her +hand and with the fingers of it flipped the hat from the head of her +brother. Simultaneously her foot pushed away the chair upon which his +leg rested. +</P> + +<P> +He jumped up, half inclined to be angry. After a moment he thought +better of it, and grinned. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not the only member of the family shy on manners, Boots," he said. +"What's the matter with you? Showing off before company?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'd have a fine chance with you three young rowdies in the house," she +retorted derisively. "Where's dad?" +</P> + +<P> +As if in answer to her question the door opened to let in a big, +middle-aged rancher with a fine shock of grizzled hair and heavy black +eyebrows. Beulah went through the formula of introduction again, but +without it Beaudry would have known this hawk-nosed man whose gaze +bored into his. The hand he offered to Hal Rutherford was cold and +clammy. A chill shiver passed through him. +</P> + +<P> +The young woman went on swiftly to tell how her guest had rescued her +from the wolf trap and walked home beside her while she rode his horse. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll send for Doc Spindler and have him look at your ankle, honey," +the father announced at once. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's all right—bruised up a bit—that's all," Beulah objected. +</P> + +<P> +"We'll make sure, Boots. Slap a saddle on and ride for the Doc, Hal." +When the young man had left the room, his father turned again to Roy. +His arm gathered in the girl beside him. "We're sure a heap obliged to +you, Mr. Street. It was right lucky you happened along." +</P> + +<P> +To see the father and daughter together was evidence enough of the +strong affection that bound them. The tone in which he had spoken to +his son had been brusque and crisp, but when he addressed her, his +voice took on a softer inflection, his eyes betrayed the place she held +in his heart. +</P> + +<P> +The man looked what he was—the chief of a clan, the almost feudal +leader of a tribe which lived outside the law. To deny him a certain +nobility of appearance was impossible. Young Beaudry guessed that he +was arrogant, but this lay hidden under a manner of bluff frankness. +One did not need a second glance to see from whom the younger +Rutherfords had inherited their dark, good looks. The family likeness +was strong in all of them, but nature had taken her revenge for the +anti-social life of the father. The boys had reverted toward savagery. +They were elemental and undisciplined. This was, perhaps, true of +Beulah also. There were moments when she suggested in the startled +poise of her light body and the flash of her quick eyes a wild young +creature of the forest set for night. But in her case atavism +manifested itself charmingly in the untamed grace of a rich young +personality vital with life. It was an interesting speculation whether +in twenty years she would develop into a harridan or a woman of unusual +character. +</P> + +<P> +The big living-room of the ranch house was a man's domain. A +magnificent elk head decorated one of the walls. Upon the antlers +rested a rifle and from one of the tines depended a belt with a +six-shooter in its holster. A braided leather quirt lay on the table +and beside it a spur one of the boys had brought in to be riveted. +Tossed carelessly into one corner were a fishing-rod and a creel. A +shotgun and a pair of rubber waders occupied the corner diagonally +opposite. +</P> + +<P> +But there were evidences to show that Beulah had modified at least her +environment. An upright piano and a music-rack were the most +conspicuous. Upon the piano was a padded-covered gift copy of "Aurora +Leigh." A similar one of "In Memoriam" lay on the mantel next to a +photograph of the girl's dead mother framed in small shells. These +were mementoes of Beulah's childhood. A good copy of Del Sarto's John +the Baptist hanging from the wall and two or three recent novels +offered an intimation that she was now beyond shell frames and +padded-leather editions. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Rutherford hobbled away to look after her ankle and to give orders +for supper to the ranch cook. Conversation waned. The owner of the +place invited Roy out to look over with him a new ram he had just +imported from Galloway. The young man jumped at the chance. He knew +as much about sheep as he did of Egyptian hieroglyphics, but he +preferred to talk about the mange rather than his reasons for visiting +Huerfano Park. +</P> + +<P> +Just at present strangers were not welcome in the park. Rutherford +himself was courteous on account of the service he had done Beulah, but +the boys were frankly suspicious. Detectives of the express company +had been poking about the hills. Was this young fellow who called +himself Street a spy sent in by the Western? While Beaudry ate supper +with the family, he felt himself under the close observation of four +pairs of watchful eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Afterward a young man rode into the ranch and another pair of eyes was +added to those that took stock of the guest. Brad Charlton said he had +come to see Ned Rutherford about a gun, but Ned's sister was the real +reason for his call. This young man was something of a dandy. He wore +a Chihuahua hat and the picturesque trappings with which the Southwest +sometimes adorns itself. The fine workmanship of the saddle, bridle, +and stirrups was noticeable. His silk handkerchief, shirt, and boots +were of the best. There was in his movements an easy and graceful +deliberation, but back of his slowness was a chill, wary strength. +</P> + +<P> +Roy discovered shortly that Charlton was a local Admirable Crichton. +He was known as a crack rider, a good roper, and a dead shot. +Moreover, he had the reputation of being ready to fight at the drop of +the hat. To the Rutherford boys he was a hero. Whether he was one +also to Beulah her guest had not yet learned, but it took no wiseacre +to guess that he wanted to be. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as the eyes of Charlton and Beaudry met there was born between +them an antagonism. Jealousy sharpened the suspicions of the young +rancher. He was the sort of man that cannot brook rivalry. That the +newcomer had been of assistance to Miss Rutherford was enough in itself +to stir his doubts. +</P> + +<P> +He set himself to verify them. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Jess Tighe Spins a Web +</H3> + + +<P> +"Then you left Denver, did you?" asked Charlton suavely. +</P> + +<P> +Roy laughed. "Yes, then I left Denver and went to college and shouted, +'Rah, rah, rah, Cornell.' In time I became a man and put away childish +things. Can I sell you a windmill, Mr. Charlton, warranted to raise +more water with less air pressure than any other in the market?" +</P> + +<P> +"Been selling windmills long?" the rancher asked casually. +</P> + +<P> +It was his ninth question in fifteen minutes. Beaudry knew that he was +being cross-examined and his study of law had taught him that he had +better stick to the truth so far as possible. He turned to Miss +Rutherford. +</P> + +<P> +"Your friend is bawling me out," he gayly pretended to whisper. "I +never sold a windmill in my life. But I'm on my uppers. I've got a +good proposition. This country needs the Dynamo Aermotor and I need +the money. So I took the agency. I have learned a fifteen minutes' +spiel. It gives seven reasons why Mr. Charlton will miss half the joy +of life until he buys a Dynamo. Do you think he is a good prospect, +Miss Rutherford?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dad has been talking windmill," she said. "Sell him one." +</P> + +<P> +"So has Jess Tighe," Charlton added. He turned to Jeff Rutherford. +"Couldn't you take Mr. Street over to see Jess to-morrow morning?" +</P> + +<P> +Jeff started promptly to decline, but as his friend's eyes met his he +changed his mind. "I guess I could, maybe." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want to trouble you, Mr. Rutherford," objected Roy. +</P> + +<P> +Something in the manner of Charlton annoyed Beulah. This young man was +her guest. She did not see any reason why Brad should bombard him with +questions. +</P> + +<P> +"If Jeff is too busy I'll take you myself," she told Beaudry. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Jeff won't be too busy. He can take a half-day off," put in his +father. +</P> + +<P> +When Charlton left, Beulah followed him as far as the porch. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think Mr. Street is a horse-thief that you ask him so many +questions?" she demanded indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +He looked straight at her. "I don't know what he is, Beulah, but I'm +going to find out." +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't it possible that he is what he says he is?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure it's possible, but I don't believe it." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, I know you like to think the worst of a man, but when you +meet him in my house I'll thank you to treat him properly. I vouch for +him." +</P> + +<P> +"You never met him before this afternoon." +</P> + +<P> +"That's my business. It ought to be enough for you that he is my +guest." +</P> + +<P> +Charlton filled in the ellipsis. "If it isn't I can stay away, can't +I? Well, I'm not going to quarrel with you, Beulah. Good-night." +</P> + +<P> +As soon as he was out of sight of the ranch, Charlton turned the head +of his horse, not toward his own place, but toward that of Jess Tighe. +</P> + +<P> +Dr. Spindler drove up while Beulah was still on the porch. He examined +the bruised ankle, dressed it, and pronounced that all it needed was a +rest. No bones were broken, but the ligaments were strained. For +several days she must give up riding and walking. +</P> + +<P> +The ankle pained a good deal during the night, so that its owner slept +intermittently. By morning she was no longer suffering, but was far +too restless to stay in the house. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to drive Mr. Street over to the Tighe place in the buggy," +she announced at breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +Her brothers exchanged glances. +</P> + +<P> +"Think you'd better go so far with your bad ankle, honey?" Hal +Rutherford, senior, asked. +</P> + +<P> +"It doesn't make any difference, dad, so long as I don't put my weight +on it." +</P> + +<P> +She had her way, as she usually did. One of the boys hitched up and +brought the team to the front of the house. Beaudry took the seat +beside Beulah. +</P> + +<P> +The girl gathered up the reins, nodded good-bye to her father, and +drove off. +</P> + +<P> +It was such a day as comes not more than a dozen times a season even in +New Mexico. The pure light from the blue sky and the pine-combed air +from the hills were like wine to their young blood. Once when the road +climbed a hilltop the long saw-toothed range lifted before them, but +mostly they could not see beyond the bastioned ramparts that hemmed in +the park or the nearer wooded gulches that ran down from them. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah had brought her camera. They took pictures of each other. They +gathered wild flowers. They talked as eagerly as children. Somehow +the bars were down between them. The girl had lost the manner of +sullen resentment that had impressed him yesterday. She was gay and +happy and vivid. Wild roses bloomed in her cheeks. For this young man +belonged to the great world outside in which she was so interested. +Other topics than horses and cattle and drinking-bouts were the themes +of his talk. He had been to theaters and read books and visited large +cities. His coming had enriched life for her. +</P> + +<P> +The trail took them past a grove of young aspens which blocked the +mouth of a small cañon by the thickness of the growth. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you see any way in?" Beulah asked her companion. +</P> + +<P> +"No. The trees are like a wall. There is not an open foot by which +one could enter." +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't there?" She laughed. "There's a way in just the same. You see +that big rock over to the left. A trail drops down into the aspens +back of it. A man lives in the gulch, an ex-convict. His name is Dan +Meldrum." +</P> + +<P> +"I expect he isn't troubled much with visitors."' +</P> + +<P> +"No. He lives alone. I don't like him. I wish he would move away. +He doesn't do the park any good." +</P> + +<P> +A man was sitting on the porch of the Tighe place as they drove up. +Beside him lay a pair of crutches. +</P> + +<P> +"That is Jess," the girl told Beaudry. "Don't mind if he is gruff or +bad-tempered. He is soured." +</P> + +<P> +But evidently this was not the morning for Tighe to be gruff. He came +to meet them on his crutches, a smile on his yellow, sapless face. +That smile seemed to Roy more deadly than anger. It did not warm the +cold, malignant eyes nor light the mordant face with pleasure. Only +the lips and mouth responded mechanically to it. +</P> + +<P> +"Glad to see you, Miss Beulah. Come in." +</P> + +<P> +He opened the gate and they entered. Presently Beaudry, his blood +beating fast, found himself shaking hands with Tighe. The man had an +odd trick of looking at one always from partly hooded eyes and at an +angle. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Street is selling windmills," explained Miss Rutherford. "Brad +Charlton said you were talking of buying one, so here is your chance." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I been thinking of it." Tighe's voice was suave. "What is your +proposition, Mr. Street?" +</P> + +<P> +Roy talked the Dynamo Aermotor for fifteen minutes. There was +something about the still look of this man that put him into a cold +sweat. +</P> + +<P> +It was all he could do to concentrate his attention on the patter of a +salesman, but he would not let his mind wander from the single track +upon which he was projecting it. He knew he was being watched closely. +To make a mistake might be fatal. +</P> + +<P> +"Sounds good. I'll look your literature over, Mr. Street. I suppose +you'll be in the park a few days?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you can come and see me again. I can't come to you so easy, +Mr.—er—" +</P> + +<P> +"Street," suggested Beulah. +</P> + +<P> +"That's right—Street. Well, you see I'm kinder tied down." He +indicated his crutches with a little lift of one hand. "Maybe Miss +Beulah will bring you again." +</P> + +<P> +"Suits me fine if she will," Beaudry agreed promptly. +</P> + +<P> +The half-hooded eyes of the cripple slid to the girl and back again to +Roy. He had a way of dry-washing the backs of his hands like Uriah +Heep. +</P> + +<P> +"Fine. You'll stay to dinner, now, of course. That's good. That's +good. Young folks don't know how it pleasures an old man to meet up +with them sometimes." His low voice was as smooth as oil. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry conceived a horror of the man. The veiled sneer behind the +smile on the sapless face, the hooded hawk eyes, the almost servile +deference, held a sinister threat that chilled the spine of his guest. +The young man thought of him as of a repulsive spider spinning a web of +trouble that radiated from this porch all over the Big Creek country. +</P> + +<P> +"Been taking pictures of each other, I reckon. Fine. Fine. Now, I +wonder, Miss Beulah, if you'd do an old man a favor. This porch is my +home, as you might say, seeing as how I'm sorter held down here. I'd +kinder like a picture of it to hang up, providing it ain't asking too +much of you." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course not. I'll take it now," answered the girl. +</P> + +<P> +"That's right good of you. I'll jest sit here and be talking to Mr. +Street, as you might say. Wouldn't that make a good picture—kinder +liven up the porch if we're on it?" +</P> + +<P> +Roy felt a sudden impulse to protest, but he dared not yield to it. +What was it this man wanted of the picture? Why had he baited a trap +to get a picture of him without Beulah Rutherford knowing that he +particularly wanted it? While the girl took the photograph, his mind +was racing for Tighe's reason. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll send you a copy as soon as I print it, Mr. Tighe," promised +Beulah. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll sure set a heap of store by it, Miss Beulah.… If you don't +mind helping me set the table, we'll leave Mr. Street this old +newspaper for a few minutes whilst we fix up a snack. You'll excuse +us, Mr. Street? That's good." +</P> + +<P> +Beulah went into the house the same gay and light-hearted comrade of +Beaudry that she had been all morning. When he was called in to +dinner, he saw at once that Tighe had laid his spell upon her. She was +again the sullen, resentful girl of yesterday. Suspicion filmed her +eyes. The eager light of faith in him that had quickened them while +she listened for his answers to her naïve questions about the great +world was blotted out completely. +</P> + +<P> +She sat through dinner in cold silence. Tighe kept the ball of +conversation rolling and Beaudry tried to play up to him. They talked +of stock, crops, and politics. Occasionally the host diverted the talk +to outside topics. He asked the young man politely how he liked the +park, whether he intended to stay long, how long he had lived in New +Mexico, and other casual questions. +</P> + +<P> +Roy was glad when dinner was over. He drew a long breath of relief +when they had turned their backs upon the ranch. But his spirits did +not register normal even in the spring sunshine of the hills. For the +dark eyes that met his were clouded with doubt and resentment. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter VIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Beulah Asks Questions +</H3> + + +<P> +A slim, wiry youth in high-heeled boots came out of the house with Brad +Charlton just as the buggy stopped at the porch of the horse ranch. He +nodded to Beulah. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lo, sis." +</P> + +<P> +"My brother Ned—Mr. Street." The girl introduced them a little +sulkily. +</P> + +<P> +Ned Rutherford offered Roy a coffee-brown hand and looked at him with +frank curiosity. He had just been hearing a lot about this +good-looking stranger who had dropped into the park. +</P> + +<P> +"See Jess Tighe? What did he say about the windmill?" asked Charlton. +</P> + +<P> +"Wanted to think it over," answered Beaudry. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah had drawn her brother to one side, but as Roy talked with +Charlton he heard what the other two said, though each spoke in a low +voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Where you going, Ned?" the sister asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, huntin' strays." +</P> + +<P> +"Home to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +"Reckon not." +</P> + +<P> +"What deviltry are you and Brad up to now? This will be the third +night you've been away—and before that it was Jeff." +</P> + +<P> +"S-sh!" Ned flashed a warning look in the direction of her guest. +</P> + +<P> +But Beulah was angry. Tighe had warned her to be careful what she told +Street. She distrusted the cripple profoundly. Half the evil that +went on in the park was plotted by him. There had been a lot of +furtive whispering about the house for a week or more. Her instinct +told her that there was in the air some discreditable secret. More +than once she had wondered whether her people had been the express +company robbers for whom a reward was out. She tried to dismiss the +suspicion from her mind, for the fear of it was like a leaden weight at +her heart. But many little things contributed to the dread. +Rutherford had sent her just at that time to spend the week at Battle +Butte. Had it been to get her out of the way? She remembered that her +father had made to her no explanation of that scene in which she and +Dave Dingwell had played the leading parts. There had been many +journeyings back and forth on the part of the boys and Charlton and her +uncle, Buck Rutherford. They had a way of getting off into a corner of +the corral and talking low for hours at a time. And now Street had +come into the tangle. Were they watching him for fear he might be a +detective? +</P> + +<P> +Her resentment against him and them boiled over into swift wrath. +"You're a fine lot—all of you. I'd like to wash my hands clean of the +whole outfit." She turned on her heel and strode limping to the house. +</P> + +<P> +Ned laughed as he swung to the back of one of the two broncos waiting +with drooped heads before the porch. He admired this frank, forthright +sister who blazed so handsomely into rage. He would have fought for +her, even though he pretended to make a joke of her. +</P> + +<P> +"Boots sure goes some. You see what you may be letting yourself in +for, Brad," he scoffed good-naturedly. +</P> + +<P> +Charlton answered with cool aplomb. "Don't you worry about me, Ned. I +travel at a good lick myself. She'll break to double harness fine." +</P> + +<P> +Without touching the stirrup this knight of the <I>chaparreras</I> flung +himself into the saddle, the rowels of his spurs whirring as he +vaulted. It was a spectacular but perfect mount. The horse was off +instantly at a canter. +</P> + +<P> +Roy could not deny the fellow admiration, even though he despised him +for what he had just said. It was impossible for him to be +contemptuous of Charlton. The man was too virile, too game for that. +In the telling Western phrase, he would go through. Whatever he did +was done competently. +</P> + +<P> +Yet there was something detestable in the way he had referred to Beulah +Rutherford. In the first place, Roy believed it to be a pure +assumption that he was going to marry her. Then, too, he had spoken of +this high-spirited girl as if she were a colt to be broken and he the +man to wield the whip. Her rebellion against fate meant nothing more +to him than a tantrum to be curbed. He did not in the least divine the +spiritual unrest back of her explosion. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry shrugged his shoulders. He was lucky for once. It had been +the place of Ned Rutherford to rebuke Charlton for his slighting +remark. A stranger had not the least right to interfere while the +brother of the girl was present. Roy did not pursue the point any +further. He did not want to debate with himself whether he had the +pluck to throw down the gauntlet to this fighting <I>vaquero</I> if the call +had come to him. +</P> + +<P> +As he walked into the house and up to his room, his mind was busy with +another problem. Where had Ned Rutherford been for three nights and +his brother Jeff before that? Why had Beulah flared into unexpected +anger? He, too, had glimpsed furtive whisperings. Even a fool would +have understood that he was not a welcome guest at the horse ranch, and +that his presence was tolerated only because here the boys could keep +an eye on him. He was under surveillance. That was plain. He had +started out for a little walk before breakfast and Jeff joined him from +nowhere in particular to stroll along. What was it the Huerfano Park +settlers were trying to hide from him? His mind jumped promptly to the +answer. Dave Dingwell, of course. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile Miss Rutherford lay weeping in the next room face down upon +the bed. She rarely indulged in tears. It had not happened before +since she was seventeen. But now she sobbed into a pillow, softly, so +that nobody might hear. Why must she spend her life in such +surroundings? If the books she read told the truth, the world was full +of gentle, kindly people who lived within the law and respected each +other's rights. Why was it in her horoscope to be an outcast? Why +must she look at everybody with bitterness and push friendship from her +lest it turn to poison at her touch? For one hour she had found joy in +comradeship with this stranger. Then Tighe had whispered it that he +was probably a spy. She had returned home only to have her doubts +about her own family stirred to life again. Were there no good, honest +folk in the world at all? +</P> + +<P> +She washed her telltale eyes and ventured downstairs to look after +supper. The Mexican cook was already peeling the potatoes. She gave +him directions about the meal and went out to the garden to get some +radishes and lettuce. On the way she had to pass the corral. Her +brother Hal, Slim Sanders, and Cherokee Street were roping and branding +some calves. The guest of the house had hung his coat and hat on a +fence-post to keep them from getting soiled, but the hat had fallen +into the dust. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah picked up the hat and brushed it. As she dusted with her +handkerchief the under side of the rim her eyes fell upon two initials +stamped into the sweat pad. The letters were "R.B." The owner of the +hat called himself Cherokee Street. Why, then, should he have these +other initials printed on the pad? There could be only one answer to +that question. He was passing under a name that was not his own. +</P> + +<P> +If so, why? Because he was a spy come to get evidence against her +people for the express company. +</P> + +<P> +The eyes of the girl blazed. The man had come to ruin her father, to +send her brothers to prison, and he was accepting their hospitality +while he moled for facts to convict them. To hear the shout of his gay +laughter as a calf upset him in the dust was added fuel to the fire of +her anger. If he had looked as villainous as Dave Meldrum, she could +have stood it better, but any one would have sworn that he was a clean, +decent young fellow just out of college. +</P> + +<P> +She called to him. Roy glanced up and came across the corral. His +sleeves were rolled to the elbows and the shirt open at the throat. +Flowing muscles rippled under the white skin of his forearms as he +vaulted the fence to stand beside her. He had the graceful poise of an +athlete and the beautiful, trim figure of youth. +</P> + +<P> +Yet he was a spy. Beulah hardened her heart. +</P> + +<P> +"I found your hat in the dust, Mr. Street." She held it out to him +upside down, the leather pad lifted by her finger so that the letters +stood out. +</P> + +<P> +The rigor of her eyes was a challenge. For a moment, before he caught +sight of the initials, he was puzzled at her stiffness. Then his heart +lost a beat and hammered wildly. His brain was in a fog and he could +find no words of explanation. +</P> + +<P> +"It is your hat, isn't it, Mr.—Street?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." He took it from her, put it on, and gulped "Thanks." +</P> + +<P> +She waited to give him a chance to justify himself, but he could find +no answer to the charge that she had fixed upon him. Scornfully she +turned from him and went to the house. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Rutherford found her father reading a week-old newspaper. +</P> + +<P> +"I've got fresher news than that for you, dad," she said. "I can tell +you who this man that calls himself Cherokee Street isn't." +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford looked up quickly. "You mean who he is, Boots." +</P> + +<P> +"No, I mean who he isn't. His name isn't Cherokee Street at all." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because he is wearing a hat with the initials 'R.B.' stamped in it. I +gave him a chance to explain and he only stammered and got white. He +hadn't time to think up a lie that would fit." +</P> + +<P> +"Dad burn it, Jess Tighe is right, then. The man is a spy." The +ranchman lit a cigar and narrowed his eyes in thought. +</P> + +<P> +"What is he spying here for?" +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon he's a detective of the express company nosing around about +that robbery. Some folks think it was pulled off by a bunch up in the +hills somewhere." +</P> + +<P> +"By the Rutherford gang?" she quoted. +</P> + +<P> +He looked at her uneasily. The bitterness in her voice put him on the +defensive. "Sho, Boots! That's just a way folks have of talking. +We've got our enemies. Lots of people hate us because we won't let any +one run over us." +</P> + +<P> +She stood straight and slender before him, her eyes fixed in his. "Do +they say we robbed the express company?" +</P> + +<P> +"They don't say it out loud if they do—not where I can hear them," he +answered grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"Did we?" she flung at him. +</P> + +<P> +His smile was forced. The question disturbed him. That had always +been her way, even when she was a small child, to fling herself +headlong at difficulties. She had never been the kind to be put off +with anything less than the truth. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't. Did you?" he retorted. +</P> + +<P> +"How about the boys—and Uncle Buck—and Brad Charlton?" she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Better ask them if you want to know." With a flare of temper he +contradicted himself. "No, you'd better mind your own business, girl. +Forget your foolishness and 'tend to your knitting." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose it isn't my business if my kin go to the penitentiary for +train robbery." +</P> + +<P> +"They're not going any such place. If you want to know, I give you my +word that none of us Rutherfords have got the gold stolen from the +Western Express Company." +</P> + +<P> +"And don't know where it is?" +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't the least idea—not one of us." +</P> + +<P> +She drew a deep breath of relief. More than once her father had kept +from her secrets of the family activities, but he had never lied to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Then it doesn't matter about this detective. He can find out nothing +against us," she reflected aloud. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not so sure about that. We've had our troubles and we don't want +them aired. There was that shooting scrape Hal got into down at Battle +Butte, for instance. Get a little more evidence and the wrong kind of +a jury would send him up for it. No, we'll keep an eye on Mr. Cherokee +Street, or whatever his name is. Reckon I'll ride over and have a talk +with Jess about it." +</P> + +<P> +"Why not tell this man Street that he is not wanted and so be done with +it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because we wouldn't be done with it. Another man would come in his +place. We'll keep him here where we can do a little detective work on +him, too." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't like it. The thing is underhanded. I hate the fellow. It's +not decent to sit at table with a man who is betraying our +hospitality," she cried hotly. +</P> + +<P> +"It won't be for long, honey. Just leave him to us. We'll hang up his +pelt to dry before we're through with him." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't mean—?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, nothing like that. But he'll crawl out of the park like a whipped +cur with its tail between its legs." +</P> + +<P> +The cook stood in the doorway. "Miss Beulah, do you want that meat +done in a pot roast?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. I'll show you." She turned at the door. "By the way, dad, I +took a snapshot of Mr. Tighe on his porch. I'll develop it to-night +and you can take it to him in the morning." +</P> + +<P> +"All right. Don't mention to anybody that matter we were discussing. +Act like you've forgotten all about what you found out, Boots." +</P> + +<P> +The girl nodded. "Yes." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter IX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Man on the Bed +</H3> + + +<P> +Beulah Rutherford found it impossible to resume a relation of +friendliness toward her guest. By nature she was elemental and direct. +A few months earlier she had become the teacher of the Big Creek +school, but until that time life had never disciplined her to repress +the impulses of her heart. As a child she had been a fierce, wild +little creature full of savage affections and generosities. She still +retained more feminine ferocity than social usage permits her sex. It +was not in her to welcome an enemy with smiles while she hated him in +her soul. The best she could do was to hold herself to a brusque +civility whenever she met Beaudry. +</P> + +<P> +As for that young man, he was in a most unhappy frame of mind. He +writhed at the false position in which he found himself. It was bad +enough to forfeit the good opinion of this primitive young hill beauty, +but it was worse to know that in a measure he deserved it. He saw, +too, that serious consequences were likely to follow her discovery, and +he waited with nerves on the jump for the explosion. +</P> + +<P> +None came. When he dragged himself to dinner, Beulah was stiff as a +ramrod, but he could note no difference in the manner of the rest. Was +it possible she had not told her father? He did not think this likely, +and his heart was in panic all through the meal. +</P> + +<P> +Though he went to his room early, he spent a sleepless night full of +apprehension. What were the Rutherfords waiting for? He was convinced +that something sinister lay behind their silence. +</P> + +<P> +After breakfast the ranchman rode away. Jeff and Slim Sanders jogged +off on their cowponies to mend a broken bit of fence. Hal sat on the +porch replacing with rivets the torn strap of a stirrup. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry could stand it no longer. He found his hostess digging around +the roots of some rosebushes in her small garden. Curtly she declined +his offer to take the spade. For a minute he watched her uneasily +before he blurted out his intention of going. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll move up to the other end of the park and talk windmill to the +ranchers there, Miss Rutherford. You've been awfully good to me, but I +won't impose myself on your hospitality any longer," he said. +</P> + +<P> +He had dreaded to make the announcement for fear of precipitating a +crisis, but the young woman made no protest. Without a word of comment +she walked beside him to the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Hal, will you get Mr. Street's horse?" she asked her brother. "He is +leaving this morning." +</P> + +<P> +Young Rutherford's eyes narrowed. It was plain that he had been caught +by surprise and did not know what to do. +</P> + +<P> +"Where you going?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you care where he is going? Get the horse—or I will," she +ordered imperiously. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to board at one of the ranches farther up the park," +explained Roy. +</P> + +<P> +"Better wait till dad comes home," suggested Hal. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I'll go now." Royal Beaudry spoke with the obstinacy of a timid +man who was afraid to postpone the decision. +</P> + +<P> +"No hurry, is there?" The black eyes of Rutherford fixed him steadily. +</P> + +<P> +His sister broke in impatiently. "Can't he go when he wants to, Hal? +Get Mr. Street's horse." She whirled on Beaudry scornfully. "That is +what you call yourself, isn't it—Street?" +</P> + +<P> +The unhappy youth murmured "Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Let him get his own horse if he wants to hit the trail in such a +hurry," growled Hal sulkily. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah walked straight to the stable. Awkwardly Beaudry followed her +after a moment or two. The girl was leading his horse from the stall. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll saddle him, Miss Rutherford," he demurred, the blanket in his +hand. +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him a moment, dropped the bridle, and turned stiffly +away. He understood perfectly that she had been going to saddle the +horse to justify the surface hospitality of the Rutherfords to a man +they despised. +</P> + +<P> +Hal was still on the porch when Roy rode up, but Beulah was nowhere in +sight. The young hillman did not look up from the rivet he was +driving. Beaudry swung to the ground and came forward. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm leaving now. I should like to tell Miss Rutherford how much I'm +in her debt for taking a stranger in so kindly," he faltered. +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon you took her in just as much as she did you, Mr. Spy." +Rutherford glowered at him menacingly. "I'd advise you to straddle +that horse and git." +</P> + +<P> +Roy controlled his agitation except for a slight trembling of the +fingers that grasped the mane of his cowpony. "You've used a word that +isn't fair. I didn't come here to harm any of your people. If I could +explain to Miss Rutherford—" +</P> + +<P> +She stood in the doorway, darkly contemptuous. Fire flashed in her +eyes, but the voice of the girl was coldly insolent. +</P> + +<P> +"It is not necessary," she informed him. +</P> + +<P> +Her brother leaned forward a little. His crouched body looked like a +coiled spring in its tenseness. "Explain yourself down that road, Mr. +Street—<I>pronto</I>," he advised. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry flashed a startled glance at him, swung to the saddle, and was +away at a canter. The look in Rutherford's glittering eyes had sent a +flare of fear over him. The impulse of it had lifted him to the back +of the horse and out of the danger zone. +</P> + +<P> +But already he was flogging himself with his own contempt. He had +given way to panic before a girl who had been brought up to despise a +quitter. She herself had nerves as steady as chilled steel. He had +seen her clench her strong white little teeth without a murmur through +a long afternoon of pain. Gameness was one of the fundamentals of her +creed, and he had showed the white feather. It added to his +punishment, too, that he worshiped pluck with all the fervor of one who +knew he had none. Courage seemed to him the one virtue worth while; +cowardice the unpardonable sin. He made no excuses for himself. From +his father he inherited the fine tradition of standing up to punishment +to a fighting finish. His mother, too, had been a thoroughbred. Yet +he was a weakling. His heart pumped water instead of blood whenever +the call to action came. +</P> + +<P> +In dejection he rode up the valley, following the same hilly trail he +had taken two days before with Miss Rutherford. It took him past the +aspen grove at the mouth of the gulch which led to the Meldrum place. +Beyond this a few hundred yards he left the main road and went through +the chaparral toward a small ranch that nestled close to the timber. +Beulah had told him that it belonged to an old German named Rothgerber +who had lived there with his wife ever since she could remember. +</P> + +<P> +Rothgerber was a little wrinkled old man with a strong South-German +accent. After Beaudry had explained that he wanted board, the rancher +called his wife out and the two jabbered away excitedly in their native +tongue. The upshot of it was that they agreed to take the windmill +agent if he would room in an old bunkhouse about two hundred yards from +the main ranch building. This happened to suit Roy exactly and he +closed the matter by paying for a week in advance. +</P> + +<P> +The Rothgerbers were simple, unsuspecting people of a garrulous nature. +It was easy for Beaudry to pump information from them while he ate +supper. They had seen nothing of any stranger in the valley except +himself, but they dropped casually the news that the Rutherfords had +been going in and out of Chicito Cañon a good deal during the past few +days. +</P> + +<P> +"Chicito Cañon. That's a Mexican name, isn't it? Let's see. Just +where is this gulch?" asked Beaudry. +</P> + +<P> +The old German pointed out of the window. "There it iss, mein friend. +You pass by on the road and there iss no way in—no arroyo, no gulch, +no noddings but aspens. But there iss, shust the same, a trail. +Through my pasture it leads." +</P> + +<P> +"Anybody live up Chicito? I want everybody in the park to get a chance +to buy a Dynamo Aermotor before I leave." +</P> + +<P> +"A man named Meldrum. My advice iss—let him alone." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +Rothgerber shook a pudgy forefinger in the air. "Mein friend—listen. +You are a stranger in Huerfano Park. Gut. But do not ask questions +about those who lif here. Me, I am an honest man. I keep the law. +Also I mind my own pusiness. So it iss with many. But there are +others—mind, I gif them no names, but—" He shrugged his shoulders +and threw out his hands, palm up. "Well, the less said the petter. If +I keep my tongue still, I do not talk myself into trouble. Not so, +Berta?" +</P> + +<P> +The pippin-cheeked little woman nodded her head sagely. +</P> + +<P> +In the course of the next few days Roy rode to and fro over the park +trying to sell his windmill to the ranchers. He secured two orders and +the tentative promise of others. But he gained no clue as to the place +where Dingwell was hidden. His intuition told him that the trail up +Chicito Cañon would lead him to the captive cattleman. Twice he +skirted the dark gash of the ravine at the back of the pasture, but +each time his heart failed at the plunge into its unknown dangers. The +first time he persuaded himself that he had better make the attempt at +night, but when he stood on the brink in the darkness the gulf at his +feet looked like a veritable descent into Avernus. If he should be +caught down here, his fate would be sealed. What Meldrum and Tighe +would do to a spy was not a matter of conjecture. The thought of it +brought goose-quills to his flesh and tiny beads of perspiration to his +forehead. +</P> + +<P> +Still, the peril had to be faced. He decided to go up the cañon in the +early morning before the travel of the day had begun. The night before +he made the venture he prepared an alibi by telling Mrs. Rothgerber +that he would not come to breakfast, as he wanted to get an early start +for his canvassing. The little German woman bustled about and wrapped +up for him a cold lunch to eat at his cabin in the morning. She liked +this quiet, good-looking young man whose smile was warm for a woman +almost old enough to be his grandmother. It was not often she met any +one with the charming deference he showed her. Somehow he reminded her +of her own Hans, who had died from the kick of a horse ten years since. +</P> + +<P> +Roy slept in broken cat-naps full of fearful dreams, from which he woke +in terror under the impression that he was struggling helplessly in the +net of a great spider which had the cruel, bloodless face of Tighe. It +was three o'clock when he rose and began to dress. He slipped out of +the cabin into the wet pasture. His legs were sopping wet from the +long grass through which he strode to the edge of the gulch. On a flat +boulder he sat shivering in the darkness while he waited for the first +gray streaks of light to sift into the dun sky. +</P> + +<P> +In the dim dawn he stumbled uncertainly down the trail into the cañon, +the bottom of which was still black as night from a heavy growth of +young aspens that shut out the light. There was a fairly well-worn +path leading up the gulch, so that he could grope his way forward +slowly. His feet moved reluctantly. It seemed to him that his nerves, +his brain, and even his muscles were in revolt against the moral +compulsion that drove him on. He could feel his heart beating against +his ribs. Every sound startled him. The still darkness took him by +the throat. Doggedly he fought against the panic impulse to turn and +fly. +</P> + +<P> +If he quit now, he told himself, he could never hold his self-respect. +He thought of all those who had come into his life in connection with +the Big Creek country trouble. His father, his mother, Dave Dingwell, +Pat Ryan, Jess Tighe, the whole Rutherford clan, including Beulah! One +quality they all had in common, the gameness to see out to a finish +anything they undertook. He could not go through life a confessed +coward. The idea was intolerably humiliating. +</P> + +<P> +Then, out of the past, came to him a snatch of nonsense verse:— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"Li'l' ole hawss an' li'l' ole cow,<BR> +Amblin' along by the ole haymow,<BR> +Li'l' ole hawss took a bite an' a chew,<BR> +'Durned if I don't,' says the ole cow, too." +</P> + +<P> +So vivid was his impression of the doggerel that for an instant he +thought he heard the sing-song of his father's tuneless voice. In +sharp, clean-cut pictures his memory reproduced the night John Beaudry +had last chanted the lullaby and that other picture of the Homeric +fight of one man against a dozen. The foolish words were a bracer to +him. He set his teeth and ploughed forward, still with a quaking soul, +but with a kind of despairing resolution. +</P> + +<P> +After a mile of stiff going, the gulch opened to a little valley on the +right-hand side. On the edge of a pine grove, hardly a stone's throw +from where Roy stood, a Mexican <I>jacal</I> looked down into the cañon. +The hut was a large one. It was built of upright poles daubed with +clay. Sloping poles formed the roof, the chinks of which were +waterproofed with grass. A wolf pelt, nailed to the wall, was hanging +up to dry. +</P> + +<P> +He knew that this was the home of Meldrum, the ex-convict. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry followed a bed of boulders that straggled toward the pine +grove. It was light enough now, and he had to move with caution so as +to take advantage of all the cover he could find. Once in the grove, +he crawled from tree to tree. The distance from the nearest pine to +the jacal was about thirty feet. A clump of <I>cholla</I> grew thick just +outside the window. Roy crouched behind the trunk for several minutes +before he could bring himself to take the chance of covering that last +ten yards. But every minute it was getting lighter. Every minute +increased the likelihood of detection. He crept fearfully to the hut, +huddled behind the cactus, and looked into the window. +</P> + +<P> +A heavy-set man, with the muscle-bound shoulders of an ape, was +lighting a fire in the stove. At the table, his thumbs hitched in a +sagging revolver belt, sat Ned Rutherford. The third person in the +room lay stretched at supple ease on a bed to one of the posts of which +his right leg was bound. He was reading a newspaper. +</P> + +<P> +"Get a move on you, Meldrum," young Rutherford said jauntily, with an +eye on his prisoner to see how he took it. "I've got inside +information that I need some hot cakes, a few slices of bacon, and a +cup of coffee. How about it, Dave? Won't you order breakfast, too?" +</P> + +<P> +The man on the bed shook his head indifferently. "Me, I'm taking the +fast cure. I been reading that we all eat too much, anyhow. What's +the use of stuffing—gets yore system all clogged up. Now, take +Edison—he don't eat but a handful of rice a day." +</P> + +<P> +"That's one handful more than you been eating for the past three days. +Better come through with what we want to know. This thing ain't going +to get any better for you. A man has got to eat to live." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm trying out another theory. Tell you-all about how it works in a +week or so. I reckon after a time I'll get real hungry, but it don't +seem like I could relish any chuck yet." The cattleman fell to +perusing his paper once more. +</P> + +<P> +Royal Beaudry had never met his father's friend, Dave Dingwell, but he +needed no introduction to this brown-faced man who mocked his guard +with such smiling hardihood. They were trying to starve the secret out +of him. Already his cheek showed thin and gaunt, dark circles shadowed +the eyes. The man, no doubt, was suffering greatly, yet his manner +gave no sign of it. He might not be master of his fate; at least, he +was very much the captain of his soul. Pat Ryan had described him in a +sentence. "One hundred and ninety pounds of divil, and ivery ounce of +ivery pound true gold." There could not be another man in the Big +Creek country that this description fitted as well as it did this +starving, jocund dare-devil on the bed. +</P> + +<P> +The savory odor of bacon and of coffee came through the open window to +Beaudry where he crouched in the chaparral. He heard Meldrum's brusque +"Come and get it," and the sound of the two men drawing up their chairs +to the table. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the use of being obstinate, Dave?" presently asked Rutherford +from amid a pleasant chink of tin cups, knives, and forks. "I'd a heap +rather treat you like a white man. This 'Pache business doesn't make a +hit with me. But I'm obeying orders. Anyhow, it's up to you. The +chuck-wagon is ready for you whenever you say the word." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't reckon I'll say it, Ned. Eating is just a habit. One man +wants his eggs sunny side up; another is strong for them hard-boiled. +But eggs is eggs. When Dan went visitin' at Santa Fe, he likely +changed his diet. For two or three days he probably didn't like the +grub, then—" +</P> + +<P> +With a raucous curse the former convict swung round on him. A revolver +seemed to jump to his hand, but before he could fire, young Rutherford +was hanging to his wrist. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you, Dan. Don't you," warned Ned. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly Meldrum's eyes lost their savage glare. "One o' these days I'll +pump lead into him unless he clamps that mouth of his'n. I won't stand +for it." His voice trailed into a string of oaths. +</P> + +<P> +Apparently his host's fury at this reference to his convict days did +not disturb in the least the man on the bed. His good-natured drawl +grew slightly more pronounced. "Wall yore eyes and wave yore tail all +you've a mind to, Dan. I was certainly some indiscreet reminding you +of those days when you was a guest of the Government." +</P> + +<P> +"That's enough," growled Meldrum, slamming his big fist down on the +table so that the tinware jumped. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure it's enough. Too much. Howcome I to be so forgetful? If I'd +wore a uniform two years for rustling other folks' calves, I reckon I +wouldn't thank a guy—" +</P> + +<P> +But Meldrum had heard all he could stand. He had to do murder or get +out. He slammed the coffee-pot down on the floor and bolted out of the +open door. His arms whirled in violent gestures as he strode away. An +unbroken stream of profanity floated back to mark his anabasis. +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum did not once look round as he went on his explosive way to the +gulch, but Roy Beaudry crouched lower behind the cactus until the man +had disappeared. Then he crawled back to the grove, slipped through +it, and crept to the shelter of the boulder bed. +</P> + +<P> +It would not do for him to return down the cañon during daylight, for +fear he might meet one of the Rutherfords coming to relieve Ned. He +passed from one boulder to another, always working up toward the wall +of the gulch. Behind a big piece of sandstone shaped like a flatiron +he lay down and waited for the hours to pass. +</P> + +<P> +It was twilight when he stole down to the trail and began his return +journey. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter X +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Dave Takes a Ride +</H3> + + +<P> +Dave Dingwell had sauntered carelessly out of the Legal Tender on the +night of his disappearance. He was apparently at perfect ease with a +friendly world. But if any one had happened to follow him out of the +saloon, he would have seen an odd change in the ranchman. He slid +swiftly along the wall of the building until he had melted into the +shadows of darkness. His eyes searched the neighborhood for lurking +figures while he crouched behind the trunk of a cottonwood. Every +nerve of the man was alert, every muscle ready for action. One brown +hand lingered affectionately close to the butt of his revolver. +</P> + +<P> +He had come out of the front door of the gambling-house because he knew +the Rutherfords would expect him, in the exercise of ordinary common +sense, to leave by the rear exit. That he would be watched was +certain. Therefore, he had done the unexpected and walked boldly out +through the swinging doors. +</P> + +<P> +As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he made out a horse in +the clump of trees about twenty yards to the left. Whether it was +Teddy he could not be sure, but there was no time to lose. Already a +signal whistle had shrilled out from the other side of the street. +Dave knew this was to warn the guards at the rear of the Legal Tender +that their prey was in the open. +</P> + +<P> +He made a dash for the tree clump, but almost as he reached it, he +swung to the left and circled the small grove so as to enter it from +the other side. As he expected, a man whirled to meet him. The +unforeseen tactics of Dingwell had interfered with the ambush. +</P> + +<P> +Dave catapulted into him head first and the two went down together. +Before Dingwell could grip the throat of the man beneath him, a second +body hurled itself through space at the cattleman. The attacked man +flattened under the weight crushing him, but his right arm swept around +and embraced the neck of his second assailant. He flexed his powerful +forearm so as to crush as in a vice the throat of his foe between it +and the hard biceps. The breath of the first man had for the moment +been knocked out of him and he was temporarily not in the fight. The +ranchman gave his full attention to the other. +</P> + +<P> +The fellow struggled savagely. He had a gun in his right hand, but the +fingers of Dave's left had closed upon the wrist above. Stertorous +breathing gave testimony that the gunman was in trouble. In spite of +his efforts to break the hold that kept his head in chancery, the +muscles of the arm tightened round his neck like steel ropes drawn +taut. He groaned, sighed in a ragged expulsion of breath, and suddenly +collapsed. +</P> + +<P> +Before he relaxed his muscles, Dingwell made sure that the surrender +was a genuine one. His left hand slid down and removed the revolver +from the nerveless fingers. The barrel of it was jammed against the +head of the man above him while the rancher freed himself from the +weight of the body. Slowly the cattleman got to his feet. +</P> + +<P> +Vaguely he had been aware already that men were running toward the tree +clump. Now he heard the padding of their feet close at hand. He ran +to the horse and flung himself into the saddle, but before the animal +had moved two steps some one had it by the bridle. Another man caught +Dingwell by the arm and dragged him from the saddle. Before Dave could +scramble to his feet again, something heavy fell upon his head and +shook him to the heels. A thousand lights flashed in zigzags before +his eyes. He sank back into unconsciousness. +</P> + +<P> +The cowman returned to a world of darkness out of which voices came as +from a distance hazily. A groan prefaced his arrival. +</P> + +<P> +"Dave's waking up," one of the far voices said. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure. When you tap his haid with a six-gun, you're liable to need +repairs on the gun," a second answered. +</P> + +<P> +The next words came to Dingwell more distinctly. He recognized the +speaker as Hal Rutherford of the horse ranch. +</P> + +<P> +"Too bad the boy had to hand you that crack, Dave. You're such a bear +for fighting a man can't take any chances. Glad he didn't bust your +haid wide open." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure he didn't?" asked the injured man. "I feel like I got to hold it +on tight so as to keep the blamed thing from flying into fifty pieces." +</P> + +<P> +"Sorry. We'll take you to a doc and have it fixed up. Then we'll all +go have a drunk. That'll fix you." +</P> + +<P> +"Business first," cut in Buck Rutherford. +</P> + +<P> +"That's right, Dave," agreed the owner of the horse ranch. "How about +that gunnysack? Where did you hide it?" +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell played for time. He had not the least intention of telling, +but if he held the enemy in parley some of his friends might pass that +way. +</P> + +<P> +"What gunnysack, Hal? Jee-rusalem, how my head aches!" He held his +hands to his temples and groaned again. +</P> + +<P> +"Your head will mend—if we don't have to give it another crack," Buck +told him grimly. "Get busy, Dave. We want that gold—<I>pronto</I>. Where +did you put it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Where <I>did</I> I put it? That willing lad of yours has plumb knocked the +answer out of my noodle. Maybe you're thinking of some one else, +Buck." Dingwell looked up at him with an innocent, bland smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Come through," ordered Buck with an oath. +</P> + +<P> +The cattleman treated them to another dismal groan. "Gee! I feel like +the day after Christmas. Was it a cannon the kid hit me with?" +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum pushed his ugly phiz to the front. "Don't monkey away any +time, boys. String him to one of these cottonwoods till he spits out +what we want." +</P> + +<P> +"Was it while you was visiting up at Santa Fe you learnt that habit of +seeing yore neighbors hanged, Dan?" drawled Dingwell in a voice of +gentle irony. +</P> + +<P> +Furious at this cool reference to his penitentiary days, Meldrum kicked +their captive in the ribs. Hal Rutherford, his eyes blazing, caught +the former convict by the throat. +</P> + +<P> +"Do that again and I'll hang yore hide up to dry." He shook Meldrum as +if he were a child, then flung the gasping man away. "I'll show you +who's boss of this <I>rodeo</I>, by gum!" +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum had several notches on his gun. He was, too, a +rough-and-tumble fighter with his hands. But Hal Rutherford was one +man he knew better than to tackle. He fell back, growling threats in +his throat. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile Dave was making discoveries. One was that the first two men +who had attacked him were the gamblers he had driven from the Legal +Tender earlier in the evening. The next was that Buck Rutherford was +sending the professional tinhorns about their business. +</P> + +<P> +"Git!" ordered the big rancher. "And keep gitting till you've crossed +the border. Don't look back any. Jest burn the wind. <I>Adios</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"They meant to gun you, Dave," guessed the owner of the horse ranch. +"I reckon they daren't shoot with me loafing there across the road. +You kinder disarranged their plans some more by dropping in at their +back door. Looks like you'd 'a' rumpled up their hair a few if you +hadn't been in such a hurry to make a get-away. Which brings us back +to the previous question. The unanimous sense of the meeting is that +you come through with some information, Dave. Where is that gunnysack?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave, still sitting on the ground, leaned his back against a tree and +grinned amiably at his questioner. "Sounds like you-all been to school +to a parrot. You must 'a' quituated after you learned one sentence." +</P> + +<P> +"We're waiting for an answer, Dave." +</P> + +<P> +The cool, steady eyes of Dingwell met the imperious ones of the other +man in a long even gaze. "Nothing doing, Hal." +</P> + +<P> +"Even split, Dave. Fifty-fifty." +</P> + +<P> +The sitting man shook his head. "I'll split the reward with you when I +get it. The sack goes back to the express company." +</P> + +<P> +"We'll see about that." Rutherford turned to his son and gave brisk +orders. "Bring up the horses. We'll get out of here. You ride with +me, Jeff. We'll take care of Dingwell. The rest of you scatter. +We're going back to the park." +</P> + +<P> +The Rutherfords and their captive followed no main road, but cut across +country in a direction where they would be less likely to meet +travelers. It was a land of mesquite and prickly pear. The sting of +the cactus bit home in the darkness as its claws clutched at the riders +winding their slow way through the chaparral. +</P> + +<P> +Gray day was dawning when they crossed the Creosote Flats and were seen +by a sheep-herder at a distance. The sun was high in the heavens +before they reached the defile which served as a gateway between the +foothills and the range beyond. It had passed the meridian by the time +they were among the summits where they could look back upon rounded +hills numberless as the billows of a sea. Deeper and always deeper +they plunged into the maze of cañons which gashed into the saddles +between the peaks. Blue-tinted dusk was enveloping the hills as they +dropped down through a wooded ravine into Huerfano Park. +</P> + +<P> +"Home soon," Dave suggested cheerfully to his captors. "I sure am +hungry enough to eat a government mailsack. A flank steak would make a +big hit with me." +</P> + +<P> +Jeff looked at him in the dour, black Rutherford way. "This is no +picnic, you'll find." +</P> + +<P> +"Not to you, but it's a great vacation for me. I feel a hundred per +cent better since I got up into all this ozone and scenery." Dingwell +assured him hardily. "A man ought to take a trip like this every once +in a while. It's great for what ails him." +</P> + +<P> +Young Rutherford grunted sulkily. Their prisoner was the coolest +customer he had ever met. The man was no fool. He must know he was in +peril, but his debonair, smiling <I>insouciance</I> never left him for a +moment. He was grit clear through. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Tighe Weaves his Web Tighter +</H3> + + +<P> +The hooded eyes of Jess Tighe slanted across the table at his visitor. +Not humor but mordant irony had given birth to the sardonic smile on +his thin, bloodless lips. +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon you'll be glad to know that you've been entertaining an angel +unawares, Hal," he jeered. "I've been looking up your handsome young +friend, and I can tell you what the 'R.B.' in his hat stands for in +case you would be interested to know." +</P> + +<P> +The owner of the horse ranch gave a little nod. "Unload your +information, Jess." +</P> + +<P> +Tighe leaned forward for emphasis and bared his teeth. If ever +malevolent hate was written on a face it found expression on his now. +</P> + +<P> +"'R.B.' stands for Royal Beaudry." +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford flashed a question at him from startled eyes. He waited for +the other man to continue. +</P> + +<P> +"You remember the day we put John Beaudry out of business?" asked Tighe. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Go on." Hal Rutherford was not proud of that episode. In the +main he had fought fair, even though he had been outside the law. But +on the day he had avenged the death of his brother Anson, the feud +between him and the sheriff had degenerated to murder. A hundred times +since he had wished that he had gone to meet the officer alone. +</P> + +<P> +"He had his kid with him. Afterward they shipped him out of the +country to an aunt in Denver. He went to school there. Well, I've had +a little sleuthing done." +</P> + +<P> +"And you've found out—?" +</P> + +<P> +"What I've told you." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" +</P> + +<P> +"He said his name was Cherokee Street, but Jeff told me he didn't act +like he believed himself. When yore girl remembered there was a street +of that name in Denver, Mr. Cherokee Street was plumb rattled. He seen +he'd made a break. Well, you saw that snapshot Beulah took of him and +me on the porch. I sent it to a detective agency in Denver with orders +to find out the name of the man that photo fitted. My idea was for the +manager to send a man to the teachers of the high schools, beginning +with the school nearest Cherokee Street. He done it. The third +schoolmarm took one look at the picture and said the young fellow was +Royal Beaudry. She had taught him German two years. That's howcome I +to know what that 'R.B.' in the hat stands for." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps it is some other Beaudry." +</P> + +<P> +"Take another guess," retorted the cripple scornfully. "Right off when +I clapped eyes on him, I knew he reminded me of somebody. I know now +who it was." +</P> + +<P> +"But what's he doing up here?" asked the big man. +</P> + +<P> +The hawk eyes of Tighe glittered. "What do you reckon the son of John +Beaudry would be doing here?" He answered his own question with bitter +animosity. "He's gathering evidence to send Hal Rutherford and Jess +Tighe to the penitentiary. That's what he's doing." +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford nodded. "Sure. What else would he be doing if he is a chip +of the old block? That's where his father's son ought to put us if he +can." +</P> + +<P> +Tighe beat his fist on the table, his face a map of appalling fury and +hate. "Let him go to it, then. I've been a cripple seventeen years +because Beaudry shot me up. By God! I'll gun his son inside of +twenty-four hours. I'll stomp him off'n the map like he was a +rattlesnake." +</P> + +<P> +"No," vetoed Rutherford curtly. +</P> + +<P> +"What! What's that you say?" snarled the other. +</P> + +<P> +"I say he'll get a run for his money. If there's any killing to be +done, it will be in fair fight." +</P> + +<P> +"What's ailing you?" sneered Tighe. "Getting soft in your upper story? +Mean to lie down and let that kid run you through to the pen like his +father did Dan Meldrum?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not in a thousand years," came back Rutherford. "If he wants war, he +gets it. But I'll not stand for any killing from ambush, and no +killing of any kind unless it has to be. Understand?" +</P> + +<P> +"That sounds to me," purred the smaller man in the Western slang that +phrased incredulity. Then, suddenly, he foamed at the mouth. "Keep +out of this if you're squeamish. Let me play out the hand. I'll bump +him off <I>pronto</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"No, Jess." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think I am?" screamed Tighe. "Seventeen years I've been +hog-tied to this house because of Beaudry. Think I'm going to miss my +chance now? If he was Moody and Sankey rolled into one, I'd go through +with it. And what is he—a spy come up here to gather evidence against +you and me! Didn't he creep into your house so as to sell you out when +he got the goods? Hasn't he lied from start to finish?" +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe so. But he has no proof against us yet. We'll kick him out of +the park. I'm not going to have his blood on my conscience. That's +flat, Jess." +</P> + +<P> +The eyes in the bloodless face of the other man glittered, but he put a +curb on his passion. "What about me, Hal? I've waited half a lifetime +and now my chance has come. Have you forgot who made me the misshaped +thing I am? I haven't. I'll go through hell to fix Beaudry's cub the +way he did me." His voice shook from the bitter intensity of his +feeling. +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford paced up and down the room in a stress of sentiency. "No, +Jess. I know just how you feel, but I'm going to give this kid his +chance. We gunned Beaudry because he wouldn't let us alone. Either he +or a lot of us had to go. But I'll say this. I never was satisfied +with the way we did it. When Jack Beaudry shot you up, he was fighting +for his life. We attacked him. You got no right to hold it against +his son." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't ask you to come in. I'll fix his clock all right." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing doing. I won't have it." Rutherford, by a stroke of +strategy, carried the war into the country of the other. "I gave way +to you about Dingwell, though I hated to try that Indian stuff on him. +He's a white man. I've always liked him. It's a rotten business." +</P> + +<P> +"What else can you do? We daren't turn him loose. You don't want to +gun him. There is nothing left but to tighten the thumbscrews." +</P> + +<P> +"It won't do any good," protested the big man with a frown. "He's +game. He'll go through.… And if it comes to a showdown, I won't +have him starved to death." +</P> + +<P> +Tighe looked at him through half-hooded, cruel eyes. "He'll weaken. +Another day or two will do it. Don't worry about Dingwell." +</P> + +<P> +"There's not a yellow streak in him. You haven't a chance to make him +quit." Rutherford took another turn up and down the room diagonally. +"I don't like this way of fighting. It's—damnable, man! I won't have +any harm come to Dave or to the kid either. I stand pat on that, Jess." +</P> + +<P> +The man with the crutches swallowed hard. His Adam's apple moved up +and down like an agitated thermometer. When he spoke it was in a +smooth, oily voice of submission, but Rutherford noticed that the +rapacious eyes were hooded. +</P> + +<P> +"What you say goes, Hal. You're boss of this round-up. I was jest +telling you how it looked to me." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure. That's all right, Jess. But you want to remember that public +sentiment is against us. We've pretty near gone our limit up here. If +there was no other reason but that, it would be enough to make us let +this young fellow alone. We can't afford a killing in the park now." +</P> + +<P> +Tighe assented, almost with servility. But the cattleman carried away +with him a conviction that the man had yielded too easily, that his +restless brain would go on planning destruction for young Beaudry just +the same. +</P> + +<P> +He was on his way up Chicito Cañon and he stopped at Rothgerber's ranch +to see Beaudry. The young man was not at home. +</P> + +<P> +"He start early this morning to canfass for his vindmill," the old +German explained. +</P> + +<P> +After a moment's thought Rutherford left a message. "Tell him it isn't +safe for him to stay in the park; that certain parties know who 'R.B.' +is and will sure act on that information. Say I said for him to come +and see me as soon as he gets back. Understand? Right away when he +reaches here." +</P> + +<P> +The owner of the horse ranch left his mount in the Rothgerber corral +and passed through the pasture on foot to Chicito. Half an hour later +he dropped into the <I>jacal</I> of Meldrum. +</P> + +<P> +He found the indomitable Dingwell again quizzing Meldrum about his +residence at Santa Fe during the days he wore a striped uniform. The +former convict was grinding his teeth with fury. +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon you won't meet many old friends when you go back this time, +Dan. Maybe there will be one or two old-timers that will know you, but +it won't be long before you make acquaintances," Dave consoled him. +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up, or I'll pump lead into you," he warned hoarsely. +</P> + +<P> +The cattleman on the bed shook his head. "You'd like to fill me full +of buckshot, but it wouldn't do at all, Dan. I'm the goose that lays +the golden eggs, in a way of speaking. Gun me, and it's good-bye to +that twenty thousand in the gunnysack." He turned cheerfully to +Rutherford, who was standing in the doorway. "Come right in, Hal. +Glad to see you. Make yourself at home." +</P> + +<P> +"He's deviling me all the time," Meldrum complained to the owner of the +horse ranch. "I ain't a-going to stand it." +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford looked at the prisoner, a lean, hard-bitten Westerner with +muscles like steel ropes and eyes unblinking as a New Mexico sun. His +engaging recklessness had long since won the liking of the leader of +the Huerfano Park outlaws. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't bank on that golden egg business, Dave," advised Rutherford. +"If you tempt the boys enough, they're liable to forget it. You've +been behaving mighty aggravating to Dan." +</P> + +<P> +"Me!" Dave opened his eyes in surprise. "I was just asking him how +he'd like to go back to Santa Fe after you-all turn me loose." +</P> + +<P> +"We're not going to turn you loose till we reach an agreement. What's +the use of being pigheaded? We're looking for that gold and we're +going to find it mighty soon. Now be reasonable." +</P> + +<P> +"How do you know you're going to find it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because we know you couldn't have taken it far. Here's the point. +You had it when Fox made his getaway. Beulah was right behind you, so +we know you didn't get a chance to bury it between there and town. We +covered your tracks and you didn't leave the road in that half-mile. +That brings you as far as Battle Butte. You had the gunnysack when you +crossed the bridge. You didn't have it when Slim Sanders met you. So +you must have got rid of it in that distance of less than a quarter of +a mile. First off, I figured you dropped the sack in Hague's alfalfa +field. But we've tramped that all over. It's not there. Did you meet +some one and give it to him? Or how did you get rid of it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I ate it," grinned Dingwell confidentially. +</P> + +<P> +"The boys are getting impatient, Dave. They don't like the way you +butted in." +</P> + +<P> +"That's all right. You're responsible for my safety, Hal. I'll let +you do the worrying." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't fool yourself. We can't keep you here forever. We can't let +you go without an agreement. Figure out for yourself what's likely to +happen?" +</P> + +<P> +"Either my friends will rescue me, or else I'll escape." +</P> + +<P> +"Forget it. Not a chance of either." Rutherford stopped, struck by an +idea. "Ever hear of a young fellow called Cherokee Street?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Think not. Is he a breed?" +</P> + +<P> +"White man." Rutherford took a chair close to Dingwell. He leaned +forward and asked another question in a low voice. "Never happened to +meet the son of John Beaudry, did you?" +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell looked at him steadily out of narrowed eyes. "I don't get +you, Hal. What has he got to do with it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Thought maybe you could tell me that. He's in the park now." +</P> + +<P> +"In the park?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—and Jess Tighe knows it." +</P> + +<P> +"What's he doing here?" +</P> + +<P> +But even as he asked the other man, Dingwell guessed the answer. Not +an hour before he had caught a glimpse of a white, strained face at the +window. He knew now whose face it was. +</P> + +<P> +"He's spying on us and sleuthing for evidence to send us to the pen. +Think he'd be a good risk for an insurance company?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave thought fast. "I don't reckon you're right. I put the kid +through law school. My friends have likely sent him up here to look +for me." +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford scoffed. "Nothing to that. How could they know you are +here? We didn't advertise it." +</P> + +<P> +"No-o, but—" Dingwell surrendered the point reluctantly. He flashed +a question at Rutherford. "Tighe will murder him. That's sure. You +going to let him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not if I can help it. I'm going to send young Beaudry out of the +park." +</P> + +<P> +"Fine. Don't lose any time about it, Hal." +</P> + +<P> +The Huerfano Park rancher made one more attempt to shake his prisoner. +His dark eyes looked straight into those of Dingwell. +</P> + +<P> +"Old-timer, what about you? I ain't enjoying this any more than you +are. But it's clear out of my hands." +</P> + +<P> +"Then why worry?" asked Dingwell, a little grin on his drawn face. +</P> + +<P> +"Hell! What's the use of asking that? I'm no Injun devil," barked +Rutherford irritably. +</P> + +<P> +"Turn me loose and I'll forget all I've seen. I won't give you the +loot, but I'll not be a witness against you." +</P> + +<P> +The Huerfano Park ranchman shook his head. "No, we want that gold, +Dave. You butted into our game and we won't stand for that." +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon we can't make a deal, Hal." +</P> + +<P> +The haggard eyes of the starving man were hard as tungsten-washed +steel. They did not yield a jot. +</P> + +<P> +A troubled frown dragged together the shaggy eyebrows of Rutherford as +he snapped out his ultimatum. +</P> + +<P> +"I like you, Dave. Always have. But you're in one hell of a hole. +Don't feed yourself any fairy tales. Your number is chalked up, my +friend. Unless you come through with what we want, you'll never leave +here alive. I can't save you. There's only one man can—and that is +your friend David Dingwell." +</P> + +<P> +The other man did not bat an eyelid. "Trying to pass the buck, Hal? +You can't get away with it—not for a minute." A gay little smile of +derision touched his face. "I'm in your hands completely. I'll not +tell you a damn thing. What are you going to do about it? No, don't +tell me that Meldrum and Tighe will do what has to be done. You're the +high mogul here. If they kill me, Hal Rutherford will be my murderer. +Don't forget that for a second." +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford carried home with him a heavy heart. He could see no way +out of the difficulty. He knew that neither Meldrum nor Tighe would +consent to let Dingwell go unless an agreement was first reached. +There was, too, the other tangle involving young Beaudry. Perhaps he +also would be obstinate and refuse to follow the reasonable course. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah met him on the road. Before they had ridden a hundred yards, +her instinct told her that he was troubled. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, dad?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +He compromised with himself and told her part of what was worrying him. +"It's about your friend Street. Jess had him looked up in Denver. The +fellow turns out to be a Royal Beaudry. You've heard of a sheriff of +that name who used to live in this country? … Well, this is his +son." +</P> + +<P> +"What's he doing here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Trying to get us into trouble, I reckon. But that ain't the point. +I'm not worrying about what he can find out. Fact is that Tighe is +revengeful. This boy's father crippled him. He wants to get even on +the young fellow. Unless Beaudry leaves the park at once, he'll never +go. I left word at Rothgerber's for him to come down and see me soon +as he gets home." +</P> + +<P> +"Will he come?" she asked anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know. If not I'll go up and fetch him. I don't trust Jess a +bit. He'll strike soon and hard." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't let him, dad," the girl implored. +</P> + +<P> +The distressed eyes of the father rested on her. "You like this young +fellow, honey?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +She flamed. "I hate him. He abused our hospitality. He lied to us +and spied on us. I wouldn't breathe the same air he does if I could +help it. But we can't let him be killed in cold blood." +</P> + +<P> +"That's right, Boots. Well, he'll come down to-day and I'll pack him +back to Battle Butte. Then we'll be shet of him." +</P> + +<P> +Beulah passed the hours in a fever of impatience. She could not keep +her mind on the children she was teaching. She knew Tighe. The +decision of her father to send Beaudry away would spur the cripple to +swift activity. Up at Rothgerber's Jess could corner the man and work +his vengeance unhampered. Why did not the spy come down to the horse +ranch? Was it possible that his pride would make him neglect the +warning her father had left? Perhaps he would think it only a trap to +catch him. +</P> + +<P> +Supper followed dinner, and still Beaudry had not arrived. From the +porch Beulah peered up the road into the gathering darkness. Her +father had been called away. Her brothers were not at home. The girl +could stand it no longer. She went to the stable and saddled Blacky. +</P> + +<P> +Five minutes later she was flying up the road that led to the +Rothgerber place. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Stark Fear +</H3> + + +<P> +When Beaudry climbed the cañon wall to the Rothgerber pasture he +breathed a deep sigh of relief. For many hours he had been under a +heavy strain, nerves taut as fiddle-strings. Fifty times his heart had +jumped with terror. But he had done the thing he had set out to do. +</P> + +<P> +He had stiffened his flaccid will and spurred his trembling body +forward. If he had been unable to control his fear, at least he had +not let it master him. He had found out for Ryan where Dingwell was +held prisoner. It had been his intention to leave the park as soon as +he knew this, report the facts to the friends of Dave, and let them +devise a way of escape. He had done his full share. But he could not +follow this course now. +</P> + +<P> +The need of the cattleman was urgent. Somehow it must be met at once. +Yet what could he do against two armed men who would not hesitate to +shoot him down if necessary? There must be some way of saving Dingwell +if he could only find it. +</P> + +<P> +In spite of his anxiety, a fine spiritual exaltation flooded him. So +far he had stood the acid test, had come through without dishonor. He +might be a coward; at least, he was not a quitter. Plenty of men would +have done his day's work without a tremor. What brought comfort to +Roy's soul was that he had been able to do it at all. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Rothgerber greeted him with exclamations of delight. The message +of Rutherford had frightened her even though she did not entirely +understand it. +</P> + +<P> +"Hermann iss out looking for you. Mr. Rutherford—the one that owns +the horse ranch—he wass here and left a message for you." +</P> + +<P> +"A message for me! What was it?" +</P> + +<P> +With many an "Ach!" she managed to tell him. +</P> + +<P> +The face of her boarder went white. Since Rutherford was warning him +against Tighe, the danger must be imminent. Should he go down to the +horse ranch now? Or had he better wait until it was quite dark? While +he was still debating this with himself, the old German came into the +house. +</P> + +<P> +"Home, eh? Gut, gut! They are already yet watching the road." +</P> + +<P> +Roy's throat choked. "Who?" +</P> + +<P> +This question Rothgerber could not answer. In the dusk he had not +recognized the men he had seen. Moreover, they had ridden into the +brush to escape observation. Both of them had been armed with rifles. +</P> + +<P> +The old woman started to light a lamp, but Roy stopped her. "Let's eat +in the dark," he proposed. "Then I'll slip out to the bunkhouse and +you can have your light." +</P> + +<P> +His voice shook. When he tried to eat, his fingers could scarcely hold +a knife and fork. Supper was for him a sham. A steel band seemed to +grip his throat and make the swallowing of food impossible. He was as +unnerved as a condemned criminal waiting for the noose. +</P> + +<P> +After drinking a cup of coffee, he pushed back his chair and rose. +</P> + +<P> +"Petter stay with us," urged the old German. He did not know why this +young man was in danger, but he read in the face the stark fear of a +soul in travail. +</P> + +<P> +"No. I'll saddle and go down to see Rutherford. Good-night." +</P> + +<P> +Roy went out of the back door and crept along the shadows of the hill. +Beneath his foot a dry twig snapped. It was enough. He fled +panic-stricken, pursued by all the demons of hell his fears could +evoke. A deadly, unnerving terror clutched at his throat. The +pounding blood seemed ready to burst the veins at his temples. +</P> + +<P> +The bunkhouse loomed before him in the darkness. As he plunged at the +door a shot rang out. A bolt of fire burned into his shoulder. He +flung the door open, slammed it shut behind him, locked and bolted it +almost with one motion. For a moment he leaned half swooning against +the jamb, sick through and through at the peril he had just escaped. +</P> + +<P> +But had he escaped it? Would they not break in on him and drag him out +to death? The acuteness of his fright drove away the faintness. He +dragged the bed from its place and pushed it against the door. Upon it +he piled the table, the washstand, the chairs. Feverishly he worked to +barricade the entrance against his enemies. +</P> + +<P> +When he had finished, his heart was beating against his ribs like that +of a wild rabbit in the hands of a boy. He looked around for the +safest place to hide. From the floor he stripped a Navajo rug and +pulled up the trapdoor that led to a small cellar stairway. Down into +this cave he went, letting the door fall shut after him. +</P> + +<P> +In that dark blackness he waited, a crumpled, trembling wretch, for +whatever fate might have in store for him. +</P> + +<P> +How long he crouched there Beaudry never knew. At last reason asserted +itself and fought back the panic. To stay where he was would be to +invite destruction. His attackers would come to the window. The +barricaded door, the displaced rug, the trapdoor, would advertise his +terror. The outlaws would break in and make an end of him. +</P> + +<P> +Roy could hardly drag his feet up the stairs, so near was he to +physical collapse. He listened. No sound reached him. Slowly he +pushed up the trapdoor. Nobody was in the room. He crept up, lowered +the door, and replaced the carpet. With his eyes on the window he put +back the furniture where it belonged. Then, revolver in hand, he sat +in one corner of the room and tried to decide what he must do. +</P> + +<P> +Down in the cellar he had been vaguely aware of a dull pain in his +shoulder and a wet, soggy shirt above the place. But the tenseness of +his anxiety had pushed this into the background of his thoughts. Now +again the throbbing ache intruded itself. The fingers of his left hand +searched under his waistcoat, explored a spot that was tender and +soppy, and came forth moist. +</P> + +<P> +He knew he had been shot, but this gave him very little concern. He +had no time to worry about his actual ills, since his whole mind was +given to the fear of those that were impending. +</P> + +<P> +Upon the window there came a faint tapping. The hand with the revolver +jerked up automatically. Every muscle of Beaudry's body grew rigid. +His senses were keyed to a tense alertness. He moistened his lips with +his tongue as he crouched in readiness for the attack about to break. +</P> + +<P> +Again the tapping, and this time with it a quick, low, imperious call. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Street. Are you there? Let me in!" +</P> + +<P> +He knew that voice—would have known it among a thousand. In another +moment he had raised the window softly and Beulah Rutherford was +climbing in. +</P> + +<P> +She panted as if she had been running. "They're watching the entrance +to the arroyo. I came up through the cañon and across the pasture," +she explained. +</P> + +<P> +"Did they see you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Think not. We must get out of here." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" +</P> + +<P> +"The same way I came." +</P> + +<P> +"But—if they see us and shoot?" +</P> + +<P> +The girl brushed his objection aside. "We can't help that. They know +you're here, don't they?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Then they'll rush the house. Come." +</P> + +<P> +Still he hesitated. At least they had the shelter of the house. +Outside, if they should be discovered, they would be at the mercy of +his foes. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you waiting for?" she asked sharply, and she moved toward the +window. +</P> + +<P> +But though he recoiled from going to meet the danger, he could not let +a girl lead the way. Beaudry dropped to the ground outside and stood +ready to lend her a hand. She did not need one. With a twist of her +supple body Beulah came through the opening and landed lightly beside +him. +</P> + +<P> +They crept back to the shadows of the hill and skirted its edge. +Slowly they worked their way from the bunkhouse, making the most of +such cover as the chaparral afforded. Farther up they crossed the road +into the pasture and by way of it reached the orchard. Every inch of +the distance Roy sweated fear. +</P> + +<P> +She was leading, ostensibly because she knew the lay of the land +better. Through the banked clouds the moon was struggling. Its light +fell upon her lithe, slender figure, the beautifully poised head, the +crown of soft black hair. She moved with the grace and the rhythm of a +racing filly stepping from the paddock to the track. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry had noticed, even in his anxiety, that not once since the +tapping on the window had her hand touched his or the sweep of her +skirt brushed against his clothes. She would save him if she could, +but with an open disdain that dared him to misunderstand. +</P> + +<P> +They picked their course diagonally through the orchard toward the +cañon. Suddenly Beulah stopped. Without turning, she swept her hand +back and caught his. Slowly she drew him to the shadow of an apple +tree. There, palm to palm, they crouched together. +</P> + +<P> +Voices drifted to them. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd swear I hit him," one said. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe you put him out of business. We got to find out," another +answered. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll crawl up to the window and take a look," responded the first. +</P> + +<P> +The voices and the sound of the man's movements died. Beulah's hand +dropped to her side. +</P> + +<P> +"We're all right now," she said coldly. +</P> + +<P> +They reached the gulch and slowly worked their way down its precipitous +sides to the bottom. +</P> + +<P> +The girl turned angrily on Roy. "Why didn't you come after father +warned you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't get his warning till night. I was away." +</P> + +<P> +"Then how did you get back up the arroyo when it was watched?" +</P> + +<P> +"I—I wasn't out into the park," he told her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" Her scornful gypsy eyes passed over him and wiped him from the +map. She would not even comment on the obvious alternative. +</P> + +<P> +"You think I've been up at Dan Meldrum's spying," he protested hotly. +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't you?" she flung at him. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, if that's what you want to call it," came quickly his bitter +answer. "The man who has been my best friend is lying up there a +prisoner because he knows too much about the criminals of Huerfano +Park. I heard Meldrum threaten to kill him unless he promised what was +wanted of him. Why shouldn't I do my best to help the man who—" +</P> + +<P> +Her voice, sharpened by apprehension, cut into his. "What man? Who +are you talking about?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm talking about David Dingwell." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean that he knows too much? Too much about what?" she +demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"About the express robbery." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to say that—that my people—?" She choked with anger, +but back of her indignation was fear. +</P> + +<P> +"I mean to say that one of your brothers was guarding Dingwell and that +later your father went up to Meldrum's place. They are starving him to +get something out of him. I serve warning on you that if they hurt my +friend—" +</P> + +<P> +"Starving him!" she broke out fiercely. "Do you dare say that my +people—my father—would torture anybody? Is that what you mean, you +lying spy?" +</P> + +<P> +Her fury was a spur to him. "I don't care what words you use," he +flung back wildly. "They have given him no food for three days. I +didn't know such things were done nowadays. It's as bad as what the +old Apaches did. It's devilish—" +</P> + +<P> +He pulled himself up. What right had he to talk that way to the girl +who had just saved his life? Her people might be law-breakers, but he +felt that she was clean of any wrongdoing. +</P> + +<P> +Her pride was shaken. A more immediate issue had driven it into the +background. +</P> + +<P> +"Why should they hurt him?" she asked. "If they had meant to do that—" +</P> + +<P> +"Because he won't tell what he knows—where the gold is—won't promise +to keep quiet about it afterward. What else can they do? They can't +turn him loose as a witness against them." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't believe it. I don't believe a word of it." Her voice broke. +"I'm going up to see right away." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean—to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean now." +</P> + +<P> +She turned up the gulch instead of down. Reluctantly he followed her. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Beulah Interferes +</H3> + + +<P> +They felt their way up in the darkness. The path was rough and at +first pitch-black. After a time they emerged from the aspens into more +open travel. Here were occasional gleams of light, as if the moon +stood tip-toe and peered down between the sheer walls of Chicito to the +obscure depths below. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah led. Mountain-born and bred, she was active as a bighorn. Her +slenderness was deceptive. It concealed the pack of her long rippling +muscles, the deep-breasted strength of her torso. One might have +marched a long day's journey without finding a young woman more +perfectly modeled for grace and for endurance. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you going to try to do?" Beaudry asked of her timidly. +</P> + +<P> +She turned on him with a burst of feminine ferocity. "Is that any of +your business? I didn't ask you to come with me, did I? Go down to +the horse ranch and ask dad to help you out of the park. Then, when +you're safe with your friends, you can set the officers on him. Tell +them he is a criminal—just as you told me." +</P> + +<P> +Her biting tongue made him wince. "If I told you that I'm sorry. I +had no right. You've saved my life. Do you think it likely I would +betray your people after that?" +</P> + +<P> +"How do I know what a spy would do? Thank God, I can't put myself in +the place of such people," she answered disdainfully. +</P> + +<P> +He smiled ruefully. She was unjust, of course. But that did not +matter. Roy knew that she was wrought up by what he had told her. +Pride and shame and hatred and distrust spoke in her sharp words. Was +it not natural that a high-spirited girl should resent such a charge +against her people and should flame out against the man who had wounded +her? Even though she disapproved of what they had done, she would fly +to their defense when attacked. +</P> + +<P> +From the dark gash of the ravine they came at last to the opening where +Meldrum lived. +</P> + +<P> +The young woman turned to Beaudry. "Give me your revolver belt." +</P> + +<P> +He hesitated. "What are you going to do?" +</P> + +<P> +Plainly she would have liked to rebuff him, but just now he had the +whip hand. Her sullen answer came slowly. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to tell my brother that father needs him. When he has gone, +I'll see what I can do." +</P> + +<P> +"And what am I to do while you are inside?" +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever you like." She held out her hand for his belt. +</P> + +<P> +Not at all willingly he unbuckled it. "You'll be careful," he urged. +"Meldrum is a bad man. Don't try any tricks with him." +</P> + +<P> +"He knows better than to touch a hair of my head," she assured him with +proud carelessness. Then, "Hide in those trees," she ordered. +</P> + +<P> +Ned Rutherford answered her knock on the door of the <I>jacal</I>. At sight +of her he exclaimed:— +</P> + +<P> +"What are you doing here, Boots? At this time of night? Anything +wrong?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dad needs you, Ned. It seems there is trouble about that young man +Street. Jess Tighe has sworn to kill him and dad won't have it. +There's trouble in the air. You're to come straight home." +</P> + +<P> +"Why didn't he send Jeff?" +</P> + +<P> +"He needed him. You're to keep on down through the cañon to the mouth. +Jess has the mouth of the arroyo guarded to head off Street." +</P> + +<P> +"But—what's broke? Why should Tighe be so keen on bumping off this +pink-ear when dad says no?" +</P> + +<P> +"They've found out who he is. It seems Street is an <I>alias</I>. He is +really Royal Beaudry, the son of the man who used to be sheriff of the +county, the one who crippled Jess the day he was killed." +</P> + +<P> +The slim youth in the high-heeled boots whistled. He understood now +why Tighe dared to defy his father. +</P> + +<P> +"All right, Boots. With you in a minute, soon as I get my hat and let +Dan know." +</P> + +<P> +"No. I'm to stay here till dad sends for me. He doesn't want me near +the trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean you're to stay at Rothgerber's." +</P> + +<P> +"No, here. Tighe may attack Rothgerber's any time to get this young +Beaudry. I heard shooting as I came up." +</P> + +<P> +"But—you can't stay here. What's dad thinking about?" he frowned. +</P> + +<P> +"If you mean because of Mr. Dingwell, I know all about that." +</P> + +<P> +"Who told you?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Dad can't keep secrets from me. There's no use his trying." +</P> + +<P> +"Hm! I notice he loaded us with a heap of instructions not to let you +know anything. He'd better learn to padlock his own tongue." +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't there a room where I can sleep here?" Beulah asked. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a cot in the back room," he admitted sulkily. "But you +can't—" +</P> + +<P> +"That's another thing," she broke in. "Dad doesn't want Dan left alone +with Mr. Dingwell." +</P> + +<P> +"Who's that out there, Ned?" growled a heavy voice from inside. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah followed her brother into the hut. Two men stared at her in +amazement. One sat on the bed with a leg tied to the post. The other +was at the table playing solitaire, a revolver lying beside the cards. +The card-player was Meldrum. He jumped up with an oath. +</P> + +<P> +"Goddlemighty! What's she doing here?" he demanded in his hoarse +raucous bass. +</P> + +<P> +"That's her business and mine," Rutherford answered haughtily. +</P> + +<P> +"It's mine too, by God! My neck's in the noose, ain't it?" screamed +the former convict. "Has everybody in the park got to know we're +hiding Dingwell here? Better put it in the paper. Better—" +</P> + +<P> +"Enough of that, Dan. Dad is running this show. Obey orders, and that +lets you out," retorted the young man curtly. "You've met my sister, +haven't you, Dave?" +</P> + +<P> +The cattleman smiled at the girl. "Sure. We had a little ride +together not long since. I owe you a new raincoat. Don't I, Miss +Beulah?" +</P> + +<P> +She blushed a little. "No, you don't, Mr. Dingwell. The mud came off +after it dried." +</P> + +<P> +"That's good." Dave turned to Rutherford. The little devils of +mischief were in his eyes. "Chet Fox was with us, but he didn't +stay—had an engagement, he said. He was in some hurry to keep it, +too." +</P> + +<P> +But though he chatted with them gayly, the ranchman's mind was +subconsciously busy with the new factor that had entered into the +problem of his captivity. Why had Rutherford allowed her to come? He +could not understand that. Every added one who knew that he was here +increased the danger to his abductors. He knew how fond the owner of +the horse ranch was of this girl. It was odd that he had let her +become incriminated in his lawless plans. Somehow that did not seem +like Hal Rutherford. One point that stood out like the Map of Texas +brand was the effect of her coming upon his chances. To secure their +safety neither Tighe nor Meldrum would stick at murder. Ten minutes +ago the prudent way out of the difficulty would have been for them to +arrange his death by accident. Now this was no longer feasible. When +the Rutherford girl had stepped into the conspiracy, it became one of +finesse and not bloodshed. Was this the reason that her father had +sent her—to stay the hands of his associates already reaching toward +the prisoner? There was no question that Meldrum's finger had been +itching on the trigger of his revolver for a week. One of the young +Rutherfords had been beside him day and night to restrain the man. +</P> + +<P> +Dave was due for another surprise when Ned presently departed after a +whispered conference with Meldrum and left his sister in the hut. +Evidently something important was taking place in another part of the +park. Had it to do with young Beaudry? +</P> + +<P> +From his reflections the cattleman came to an alert attention. Miss +Rutherford was giving Meldrum instructions to arrange her bed in the +back room. +</P> + +<P> +The convict hesitated. "I can't leave him here alone with you," he +remonstrated surlily. +</P> + +<P> +"Why can't you?" demanded Beulah incisively. "He's tied to the bedpost +and I have my gun. I can shoot as straight as you can. What harm can +he do me in five minutes? Don't be an idiot, Dan." +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum, grumbling, passed into the back room. +</P> + +<P> +In an instant Beulah was at the table, had drawn out a drawer, and had +seized a carving knife. She turned on Dingwell, eyes flashing. +</P> + +<P> +"If I help you to escape, will you swear to say nothing that will hurt +my father or anybody else in the park?" she demanded in a low voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—if young Beaudry has not been hurt." +</P> + +<P> +"You swear it." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +She tossed him the knife, and moved swiftly back to the place where she +had been standing. "Whatever my father wants you to do you'd better +do," she said out loud for the benefit of Meldrum. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell cut the ropes that bound his leg. "I'm liable to be Dan's +guest quite awhile yet. Rutherford and I don't quite agree on the +terms," he drawled aloud. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah tossed him her revolver. "I'll call Dan, but you're not to hurt +him," she whispered. +</P> + +<P> +When Meldrum came in answer to her summons, he met the shock of his +life. In Dingwell's competent hand was a revolver aimed at his heart. +</P> + +<P> +The man turned savagely to Beulah. "So I'm the goat," he said with a +curse. "Rutherford is going to frame me, is he? I'm to go to the pen +in place of the whole bunch. Is that it?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, you've guessed wrong. Yore hide is safe this time, Meldrum," the +cattleman explained. "Reach for the roof. No, don't do that.… +Now, turn yore face to the wall." +</P> + +<P> +Dave stepped forward and gathered in the forty-four of the enemy. He +also relieved him of his "skinning" knife. With the deft hands of an +old roper he tied the man up and flung him on the bed. +</P> + +<P> +This done, Dingwell made straight for the larder. Though he was +ravenous, the cattleman ate with discretion. Into his pockets he +packed all the sandwiches they would hold. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it true that you—that they didn't give you anything to eat?" asked +Beulah. +</P> + +<P> +He looked at her—and lied cheerfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Sho, I got cranky and wouldn't eat. Yore folks treated me fine. I +got my neck bowed. Can't blame them for that, can I?" +</P> + +<P> +"We must be going," she told him. "If you don't get over the pass +before morning, Tighe might catch you." +</P> + +<P> +He nodded agreement. "You're right, but I've got to look out for young +Beaudry. Do you know where he is?" +</P> + +<P> +"He is waiting outside," the girl said stiffly. "Take him away with +you. I'll not be responsible for him if he comes back. We don't like +spies here." +</P> + +<P> +They found Roy lying against the wall of the hut, his white face +shining in the moonlight. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter with you?" demanded Miss Rutherford sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm all right." Roy managed to rise and lean against the <I>jacal</I>. "I +see you made it. Mr. Dingwell, my name is Beaudry." +</P> + +<P> +"Glad to know you." The cattleman's strong hand gripped his limp one. +"Yore father was the gamest man I ever knew and one of my best friends." +</P> + +<P> +The keen eyes of Beulah had been fastened on Roy. She recalled what +she had heard the man say in the orchard. In her direct fashion she +flung a question at the young man. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you wounded? Did that man hit you when he fired?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's in my shoulder—just a flesh wound. The bleeding has stopped +except when I move." +</P> + +<P> +"Why didn't you say something about it?" she asked impatiently. "Do +you think we're clairvoyants? We'd better get him into the house and +look at it, Mr. Dingwell." +</P> + +<P> +They did as she suggested. A bullet had ploughed a furrow across the +shoulder. Except for the loss of blood, the wound was not serious. +With the help of Miss Rutherford, which was given as a matter of course +and quite without embarrassment, Dave dressed and bandaged the hurt +like an expert. In his adventurous life he had looked after many men +who had been shot, and had given first aid to a dozen with broken bones. +</P> + +<P> +Roy winced a little at the pain, but he made no outcry. He was not a +baby about suffering. That he could stand as well as another. What +shook his nerve was the fear of anticipation, the dread of an impending +disaster which his imagination magnified. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better hurry," he urged two or three times. "Some one might +come any minute." +</P> + +<P> +Dave looked at him, a little surprised. "What's the urge, son? We've +got two six-guns with us if anybody gets too neighborly." +</P> + +<P> +But Beulah was as keen for the start as Beaudry. She did not want the +men escaping from the park to meet with her people. To avoid this, +rapid travel was necessary. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as Roy was patched up they started. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Personally Escorted +</H3> + + +<P> +Before they reached the mouth of the cañon, Dave was supporting the +slack body of his friend. When the party came to the aspens, Beulah +hurried forward, and by the time the two men emerged she was waiting +for them with Blacky. +</P> + +<P> +Roy protested at taking the horse, but the girl cut short his +objections imperiously. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think we've only your silly pride to consider? I want you out +of the park—where my people can't reach you. I'm going to see you get +out. After that I don't care what you do." +</P> + +<P> +Moonlight fell upon the sardonic smile on the pitifully white face of +the young man. "I'm to be personally conducted by the Queen of +Huerfano. That's great. I certainly appreciate the honor." +</P> + +<P> +With the help of Dingwell he pulled himself to the saddle. The +exertion started a spurt of warm blood at the shoulder, but Roy +clenched his teeth and clung to the pommel to steady himself. The +cattleman led the horse and Beulah walked beside him. +</P> + +<P> +"I can get another pony for you at Cameron's," she explained. "Just +above there is a short cut by way of Dolores Sinks. You ought to be +across the divide before morning. I'll show you the trail." +</P> + +<P> +What story she told to get the horse from Cameron her companions did +not know, but from where they waited in the pines they saw the +flickering light of a lantern cross to the stable. Presently Beulah +rode up to them on the hillside above the ranch. +</P> + +<P> +By devious paths she led them through chaparral and woodland. +Sometimes they followed her over hills and again into gulches. The +girl "spelled" Dingwell at riding the second horse, but whether in the +saddle or on foot her movements showed such swift certainty that Dave +was satisfied she knew where she was going. +</P> + +<P> +Twice she stopped to rest the wounded man, who was now clinging with +both hands to the saddle-horn. But the hard gleam of her dark eyes +served notice that she was moved by expediency and not sympathy. +</P> + +<P> +It was midnight when at last she stopped near the entrance to the pass. +</P> + +<P> +"The road lies straight before you over the divide. You can't miss it. +Once on the other side keep going till you get into the foothills. All +trails will take you down," she told Dingwell. +</P> + +<P> +"We're a heap obliged to you, Miss Rutherford," answered Dingwell. "I +reckon neither one of us is liable to forget what you've done for us." +</P> + +<P> +She flamed. "I've nothing against you, Mr. Dingwell, but you might as +well know that what I've done was for my people. I don't want them to +get into trouble. If it hadn't been for that—" +</P> + +<P> +"You'd 'a' done it just the same," the cattleman finished for her with +a smile. "You can't make me mad to-night after going the limit for us +the way you have." +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry, sagging over the horn of the saddle, added his word timidly, +but the Rutherford girl would have none of his thanks. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't owe me anything, I tell you. How many times have I got to +say that it is nothing to me what becomes of you?" she replied, +flushing angrily. "All I ask is that you don't cross my path again. +Next time I'll let Jess Tighe have his way." +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't go into the park to spy on your people, Miss Rutherford. I +went to—" +</P> + +<P> +"I care nothing about why you came." The girl turned to Dingwell, her +chin in the air. "Better let him rest every mile or two. I don't want +him breaking down in our country after all the trouble I've taken." +</P> + +<P> +"You may leave him to me. I'll look out for him," Dave promised. +</P> + +<P> +"Just so that you don't let him get caught again," she added. +</P> + +<P> +Her manner was cavalier, her tone almost savage. Without another word +she turned and left them. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell watched her slim form disappear into the night. +</P> + +<P> +"Did you ever see such a little thoroughbred?" he asked admiringly. "I +take off my hat to her. She's the gamest kid I ever met—and pretty as +they grow. Just think of her pulling off this getaway to-night. It +was a man-size job, and that little girl never turned a hair from start +to finish. And loyal! By Gad! Hal Rutherford hasn't earned fidelity +like that, even if he has been father and mother to her since she was a +year old. He'd ought to send her away from that hell-hole and give her +a chance." +</P> + +<P> +"What will they do to her when she gets back?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave chuckled. "They can't do a thing. That's the beauty of it. +There'll be a lot of tall cussing in Huerfano for a while, but after +Hal has onloaded what's on his chest he'll stand between her and the +rest." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure of that?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's a cinch." The cattleman laughed softly. "But ain't she the +little spitfire? I reckon she sure hates you thorough." +</P> + +<P> +Roy did not answer. He was sliding from the back of his horse in a +faint. +</P> + +<P> +When Beaudry opened his eyes again, Dingwell was pouring water into his +mouth from a canteen that had been hanging to the pommel of Miss +Rutherford's saddle. +</P> + +<P> +"Was I unconscious?" asked the young man in disgust. +</P> + +<P> +"That's whatever. Just you lie there, son, whilst I fix these bandages +up for you again." +</P> + +<P> +The cattleman moistened the hot cloths with cold water and rearranged +them. +</P> + +<P> +"We ought to be hurrying on," Roy suggested, glancing anxiously down +the steep ascent up which they had ridden. +</P> + +<P> +"No rush a-tall," Dave assured him cheerfully. "We got all the time +there is. Best thing to do is to loaf along and take it easy." +</P> + +<P> +"But they'll be on our trail as soon as they know we've gone. They'll +force Miss Rutherford to tell which way we came." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell grinned. "Son, did you ever look into that girl's eyes? They +look right at you, straight and unafraid. The Huerfano Park outfit +will have a real merry time getting her to tell anything she doesn't +want to. When she gets her neck bowed, I'll bet she's some sot. Might +as well argue with a government mule. She'd make a right interesting +wife for some man, but he'd have to be a humdinger to hold his end +up—six foot of man, lots of patience, and sense enough to know he'd +married a woman out of 'steen thousand." +</P> + +<P> +Young Beaudry was not contemplating matrimony. His interest just now +was centered in getting as far from the young woman and her relatives +as possible. +</P> + +<P> +"When young Rutherford finds he has been sold, there will be the deuce +to pay," urged Roy. +</P> + +<P> +"Will there? I dunno. Old man Rutherford ain't going to be so awfully +keen to get us back on his hands. We worried him a heap. Miss Beulah +lifted two heavy weights off'n his mind. I'm one and you're the other. +O' course, he'll start the boys out after us to square himself with +Tighe and Meldrum. He's got to do that. They're sure going to be busy +bees down in the Huerfano hive. The Rutherford boys are going to do a +lot of night-riding for quite some time. But I expect Hal won't give +them orders to bring us in dead or alive. There is no premium on our +pelts." +</P> + +<P> +Roy spent a nervous half-hour before his friend would let him mount +again—and he showed it. The shrewd eyes of the old cattleman +appraised him. Already he guessed some of the secrets of this young +man's heart. +</P> + +<P> +Dave swung to the left into the hills so as to get away from the beaten +trails after they had crossed the pass. He rode slowly, with a careful +eye upon his companion. Frequently he stopped to rest in spite of +Roy's protests. +</P> + +<P> +Late in the afternoon they came to a little mountain ranch owned by a +nester who had punched cattle for Dave in the old days. Now he was +doing a profitable business himself in other men's calves. He had +started with a branding-iron and a flexible conscience. He still had +both of them, together with a nice little bunch of cows that beat the +world's records for fecundity. +</P> + +<P> +It was not exactly the place Dingwell would have chosen to go into +hiding, but he had to take what he could get. Roy, completely +exhausted, was already showing a fever. He could not possibly travel +farther. +</P> + +<P> +With the casual confidence that was one of his assets Dave swung from +his horse and greeted the ranchman. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lo, Hart! Can we roost here to-night? My friend got thrown and hurt +his shoulder. He's all in." +</P> + +<P> +The suspicious eyes of the nester passed over Beaudry and came back to +Dingwell. +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon so," he said, not very graciously. "We're not fixed for +company, but if you'll put up with what we've got—" +</P> + +<P> +"Suits us fine. My friend's name is Beaudry. I'll get him right to +bed." +</P> + +<P> +Roy stayed in bed for forty-eight hours. His wound was only a slight +one and the fever soon subsided. The third day he was sunning himself +on the porch. Dave had gone on a little jaunt to a water-hole to shoot +hooters for supper. Mrs. Hart was baking bread inside. Her husband +had left before daybreak and was not yet back. He was looking for +strays, his wife said. +</P> + +<P> +In the family rocking-chair Roy was reading a torn copy of "Martin +Chuzzlewit." How it had reached this haven was a question, since it +was the only book in the house except a Big Creek bible, as the +catalogue of a mail-order house is called in that country. Beaudry +resented the frank, insolent observations of Dickens on the manners of +Americans. In the first place, the types were not true to life. In +the second place— +</P> + +<P> +The young man heard footsteps coming around the corner of the house. +He glanced up carelessly—and his heart seemed to stop beating. +</P> + +<P> +He was looking into the barrel of a revolver pointed straight at him. +Back of the weapon was the brutal, triumphant face of Meldrum. It was +set in a cruel grin that showed two rows of broken, tobacco-stained +teeth. +</P> + +<P> +"By God! I've got you. Git down on yore knees and beg, Mr. Spy. I'm +going to blow yore head off in just thirty seconds." +</P> + +<P> +Not in his most unbridled moments had Dickens painted a bully so +appalling as this one. This man was a notorious "killer" and the lust +of murder was just now on him. Young Beaudry's brain reeled. It was +only by an effort that he pulled himself back from the unconsciousness +into which he was swimming. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Bad Man +</H3> + + +<P> +The eyes of Beaudry, held in dreadful fascination, clung to the lupine +face behind the revolver. To save his life he could have looked +nowhere else except into those cold, narrow pupils where he read death. +Little beads of sweat stood on his forehead. The tongue in his mouth +was dry. His brain seemed paralyzed. Again he seemed to be lifted +from his feet by a wave of deadly terror. +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum had been drinking heavily, but he was not drunk. He drew from +his pocket a watch and laid it on the arm of the chair. Roy noticed +that the rim of the revolver did not waver. It was pointed directly +between his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Git down on yore knees and beg, damn you. In less 'n a minute hell +pops for you." +</P> + +<P> +The savage, exultant voice of the former convict beat upon Roy like the +blows of a hammer. He would have begged for his life,—begged +abjectly, cravenly,—but his teeth chattered and his parched tongue was +palsied. He would have sunk to his knees, but terror had robbed his +muscles of the strength to move. He was tied to his chair by ropes +stronger than chains of steel. +</P> + +<P> +The watch ticked away the seconds. From the face of Meldrum the grin +was snuffed out by a swift surge of wolfish anger. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you deef and dumb?" he snarled. "It's Dan Meldrum talking—the +man yore dad sent to the penitentiary. I'm going to kill you. Then +I'll cut another notch on my gun. Understand?" +</P> + +<P> +The brain of the young lawyer would not function. His will was +paralyzed. Yet every sense was amazingly alert. He did not miss a +tick of the watch. Every beat of his heart registered. +</P> + +<P> +"You butted in and tried to spy like yore dad, did you?" the raucous +voice continued. "Thought you could sell us out and git away with it. +Here's where you learn different. Jack Beaudry was a man, anyhow, and +we got him. You're nothing but a pink-ear, a whey-faced baby without +guts to stand the gaff. Well, you've come to the end of yore trail. +Beg, you skunk!" +</P> + +<P> +From the mind of Beaudry the fog lifted. In the savage, malignant eyes +glaring at him he read that he was lost. The clutch of fear so +overwhelmed him that suspense was unbearable. He wanted to shriek +aloud, to call on this man-killer to end the agony. It was the same +impulse, magnified a hundred times, that leads a man to bite on an +ulcerated tooth in a weak impotence of pain. +</P> + +<P> +The tick-tick-tick of the watch mocked him to frenzied action. He +gripped the arms of the chair with both hands and thrust forward his +face against the cold rim of the revolver barrel. +</P> + +<P> +"Shoot!" he cried hoarsely, drunk with terror. "Shoot, and be damned!" +</P> + +<P> +Before the words were out of his mouth a shot echoed. For the second +time in his life Roy lost consciousness. Not many seconds could have +passed before he opened his eyes again. But what he saw puzzled him. +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum was writhing on the ground and cursing. His left hand nursed +the right, which moved up and down frantically as if to escape from +pain. Toward the house walked Dingwell and by his side Beulah +Rutherford. Dave was ejecting a shell from the rifle he carried. +Slowly it came to the young man that he had not been shot. The convict +must have been hit instead by a bullet from the gun of the cattleman. +He was presently to learn that the forty-four had been struck and +knocked from the hand of its owner. +</P> + +<P> +"Every little thing all right, son?" asked the cowman cheerily. "We +sure did run this rescue business fine. Another minute and—But what's +the use of worrying? Miss Beulah and I were Johnny-on-the-spot all +right." +</P> + +<P> +Roy said nothing. He could not speak. His lips and cheeks were still +bloodless. By the narrowest margin in the world he had escaped. +</P> + +<P> +Disgustedly the cattleman looked down at Meldrum, who was trying to +curse and weep from pain at the same time. +</P> + +<P> +"Stung you up some, did I? Hm! You ought to be singing hymns because +I didn't let you have it in the haid, which I'd most certainly have +done if you had harmed my friend. Get up, you bully, and stop cursing. +There's a lady here, and you ain't damaged, anyhow." +</P> + +<P> +The eyes of Beaudry met those of Beulah. It seemed to him that her lip +curled contemptuously. She had been witness of his degradation, had +seen him show the white feather. A pulse of shame beat in his throat. +</P> + +<P> +"W-w-what are you doing here?" he asked wretchedly. +</P> + +<P> +Dave answered for her. "Isn't she always on the job when she's needed? +Yore fairy godmother—that's what Miss Beulah Rutherford is. Rode +hell-for-leather down here to haid off that coyote there—and done it, +too. Bumped into me at the water-hole and I hopped on that Blacky +hawss behind her. He brought us in on the jump and Sharp's old +reliable upset Meldrum's apple cart." +</P> + +<P> +Still nursing the tips of his tingling fingers, the ex-convict scowled +venomously at Beulah. "I'll remember that, missie. That's twice +you've interfered with me. I sure will learn you to mind yore own +business." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell looked steadily at him. "We've heard about enough from you. +Beat it! Hit the trail! Pull yore freight! Light out! <I>Vamos</I>! +Git!" +</P> + +<P> +The man-killer glared at him. For a moment he hesitated. He would +have liked to try conclusions with the cattleman to a fighting finish, +but though he had held his own in many a rough-and-tumble fray, he +lacked the unflawed nerve to face this man with the cold gray eye and +the chilled-steel jaw. His fury broke in an impotent curse as he +slouched away. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't understand yet," pursued Roy. "How did Miss Rutherford know +that Meldrum was coming here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Friend Hart rode up to tell Tighe we were here. He met Meldrum close +to the school-house. The kids were playing hide-and-go-seek. One of +them was lying right back of a big rock beside the road. He heard Dan +swear he was coming down to stop yore clock, son. The kid went +straight to teacher soon as the men had ridden off. He told what +Meldrum had said. So, of course, Miss Beulah she sent the children +home and rode down to the hawss ranch to get her father or one of her +brothers. None of them were at home and she hit the trail alone to +warn us." +</P> + +<P> +"I knew my people would be blamed for what this man did, so I blocked +him," explained the girl with her habitual effect of hostile pride. +</P> + +<P> +"You said you would let Tighe have his way next time, but you don't +need to apologize for breaking yore word, Miss Beulah," responded +Dingwell with his friendly smile. "All we've got to say is that you've +got chalked up against us an account we'll never be able to pay." +</P> + +<P> +The color beat into her cheeks. She was both embarrassed and annoyed. +With a gesture of impatience she turned away and walked to Blacky. +Lithely she swung to the saddle. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Hart had come to the porch. In her harassed countenance still +lingered the remains of good looks. The droop at the corners of her +mouth suggested a faint resentment against a fate which had stolen her +youth without leaving the compensations of middle life. +</P> + +<P> +"Won't you light off'n yore bronc and stay to supper, Miss Rutherford?" +she invited. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Mrs. Hart. I can't. Must get home." +</P> + +<P> +With a little nod to the woman she swung her horse around and was gone. +</P> + +<P> +Hart did not show up for supper nor for breakfast. It was an easy +guess that he lacked the hardihood to face them after his attempted +betrayal. At all events, they saw nothing of him before they left in +the morning. If they had penetrated his wife's tight-lipped reserve, +they might have shared her opinion, that he had gone off on a long +drinking-bout with Dan Meldrum. +</P> + +<P> +Leisurely Beaudry and his friend rode down through the chaparral to +Battle Butte. +</P> + +<P> +On the outskirts of the town they met Ned Rutherford. After they had +passed him, he turned and followed in their tracks. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell grinned across at Roy. "Some thorough our friends are. A +bulldog has got nothing on them. They're hanging around to help me dig +up that gunnysack when I get ready." +</P> + +<P> +The two men rode straight to the office of the sheriff and had a talk +with him. From there they went to the hotel where Dave usually put up +when he was in town. Over their dinner the cattleman renewed an offer +he had been urging upon Roy all the way down from Hart's place. He +needed a reliable man to help him manage the different holdings he had +been accumulating. His proposition was to take Beaudry in as a junior +partner, the purchase price to be paid in installments to be earned out +of the profits of the business. +</P> + +<P> +"Course I don't want to take you away from the law if you're set on +that profession, but if you don't really care—" Dave lifted an +eyebrow in a question. +</P> + +<P> +"I think I'd like the law, but I know I would like better an active +outdoor life. That's not the point, Mr. Dingwell. I can't take +something for nothing. You can get a hundred men who know far more +about cattle than I do. Why do you pick me?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've got reasons a-plenty. Right off the bat here are some of them. +I'm under obligations to Jack Beaudry and I'd like to pay my debt to +his son. I've got no near kin of my own. I need a partner, but it +isn't one man out of a dozen I can get along with. Most old cowmen are +rutted in their ways. You don't know a thing about the business. But +you can learn. You're teachable. You are not one of these wise guys. +Then, too, I like you, son. I don't want a partner that rubs me the +wrong way. Hell, my why-fors all simmer down to one. You're the +partner I want, Roy." +</P> + +<P> +"If you find I don't suit you, will you let me know?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure. But there is no chance of that." Dave shook hands with him +joyously. "It's a deal, boy." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a deal," agreed Beaudry. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Roy is Invited to Take a Drink +</H3> + + +<P> +Dingwell gave a fishing-party next day. His invited guests were +Sheriff Sweeney, Royal Beaudry, Pat Ryan, and Superintendent Elder, of +the Western Express Company. Among those present, though at a +respectable distance, were Ned Rutherford and Brad Charlton. +</P> + +<P> +The fishermen took with them neither rods nor bait. Their flybooks +were left at home. Beaudry brought to the meeting-place a quarter-inch +rope and a grappling-iron with three hooks. Sweeney and Ryan carried +rifles and the rest of the party revolvers. +</P> + +<P> +Dave himself did the actual fishing. After the grappling-hook had been +attached to the rope, he dropped it into Big Creek from a large rock +under the bridge that leads to town from Lonesome Park. He hooked his +big fish at the fourth cast and worked it carefully into the shallow +water. Roy waded into the stream and dragged the catch ashore. It +proved to be a gunnysack worth twenty thousand dollars. +</P> + +<P> +Elder counted the sacks inside. "Everything is all right. How did you +come to drop the money here?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm mentioning no names, Mr. Elder. But I was so fixed that I +couldn't turn back. If I left the road, my tracks would show. There +were reasons why I didn't want to continue on into town with the loot. +So, as I was crossing the bridge, without leaving the saddle or even +stopping, I deposited the gold in the Big Creek safety deposit vault," +Dingwell answered with a grin. +</P> + +<P> +"But supposing the Rutherfords had found it?" The superintendent put +his question blandly. +</P> + +<P> +The face of the cattleman was as expressive as a stone wall. "Did I +mention the Rutherfords?" he asked, looking straight into the eye of +the Western Express man. "I reckon you didn't hear me quite right." +</P> + +<P> +Elder laughed a little. He was a Westerner himself. "Oh, I heard you, +Mr. Dingwell. But I haven't heard a lot of things I'd like to know." +</P> + +<P> +The cattleman pushed the sack with his toe. "Money talks, folks say." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe so. But it hasn't told me why you couldn't go back along the +road you came, why you couldn't leave the road, and why you didn't want +to go right up to Sweeney's office with the sack. It hasn't given me +any information about where you have been the past two weeks, or how—" +</P> + +<P> +"My gracious! He bubbles whyfors and howfors like he had just come +uncorked," murmured Dave, in his slow drawl. "Just kinder effervesces +them out of the mouth." +</P> + +<P> +"I know you're not going to tell me anything you don't want me to know, +still—" +</P> + +<P> +"You done guessed it first, crack. Move on up to the haid of the +class." +</P> + +<P> +"Still, you can't keep me from thinking. You can call the turn on the +fellows that robbed the Western Express Company whenever you feel like +it. Right now you could name the men that did it." +</P> + +<P> +Dave's most friendly, impudent smile beamed upon the superintendent. +"I thank you for the compliment, Mr. Elder. Honest, I didn't know how +smart a haid I had in my hat till you told me." +</P> + +<P> +"It's good ye've got an air-tight <I>alibi</I> yoursilf, Dave," grinned Pat +Ryan. +</P> + +<P> +"I've looked up his <I>alibi</I>. It will hold water," admitted Elder +genially. "Well, Dingwell, if you won't talk, you won't. We'll move +on up to the bank and deposit our find. Then the drinks will be on me." +</P> + +<P> +The little procession moved uptown. A hundred yards behind it came +young Rutherford and Charlton as a rear guard. When the contents of +the sack had been put in a vault for safe-keeping, Elder invited the +party into the Last Chance. Dave and Roy ordered buttermilk. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell gave his partner a nudge. "See who is here." +</P> + +<P> +The young man nodded gloomily. He had recognized already the two men +drinking at a table in the rear. +</P> + +<P> +"Meldrum and Hart make a sweet pair to draw to when they're tanking up. +They're about the two worst bad men in this part of the country. My +advice is to take the other side of the street when you see them +coming," Ryan contributed. +</P> + +<P> +The rustlers glowered at Elder's party, but offered no comment other +than some sneering laughter and ribald whispering. Yet Beaudry +breathed freer when he was out in the open again lengthening the +distance between him and them at every stride. +</P> + +<P> +Ryan walked as far as the hotel with Dave and his partner. +</P> + +<P> +"Come in and have dinner with us, Pat," invited the cattleman. +</P> + +<P> +The Irishman shook his head. "Can't, Dave. Got to go round to the +Elephant Corral and look at my horse. A nail wint into its foot last +night." +</P> + +<P> +After they had dined, Dingwell looked at his watch. "I want you to +look over the ranch today, son. We'll ride out and I'll show you the +place. But first I've got to register a kick with the station agent +about the charges for freight on a wagon I had shipped in from Denver. +Will you stop at Salmon's and order this bill of groceries sent up to +the corral? I'll meet you here at 2.30." +</P> + +<P> +Roy walked up Mission Street as far as Salmon's New York Grocery and +turned in the order his friend had given him. After he had seen it +filled, he strolled along the sunny street toward the plaza. It was +one of those warm, somnolent New Mexico days as peaceful as old age. +Burros blinked sleepily on three legs and a hoof-tip. Cowponies +switched their tails indolently to brush away flies. An occasional +half-garbed Mexican lounged against a door jamb or squatted in the +shade of a wall. A squaw from the reservation crouched on the curb +beside her display of pottery. Not a sound disturbed the siesta of +Battle Butte. +</P> + +<P> +Into this peace broke an irruption of riot. A group of men poured +through the swinging doors of a saloon into the open arcade in front. +Their noisy disputation shattered the sunny stillness like a fusillade +in the desert. Plainly they were much the worse for liquor. +</P> + +<P> +Roy felt again the familiar clutch at his throat, the ice drench at his +heart, and the faint slackness of his leg muscles. For in the crowd +just vomited from the Silver Dollar were Meldrum, Fox, Hart, Charlton, +and Ned Rutherford. +</P> + +<P> +Charlton it was that caught sight of the passing man. With an exultant +whoop he leaped out, seized Beaudry, and swung him into the circle of +hillmen. +</P> + +<P> +"Tickled to death to meet up with you, Mr. +Royal-Cherokee-Beaudry-Street. How is every little thing a-coming? +Fine as silk, eh? You'd ought to be laying by quite a bit of the +mazuma, what with rewards and spy money together," taunted Charlton. +</P> + +<P> +To the center of the circle Meldrum elbowed his drunken way. "Lemme +get at the pink-ear. Lemme bust him one," he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +Ned Rutherford held him back. "Don't break yore breeching, Dan. Brad +has done spoke for him," the young man drawled. +</P> + +<P> +Into the white face of his victim Charlton puffed the smoke of his +cigar. "If you ain't too busy going fishing maybe you could sell me a +windmill to-day. How about that, Mr. Cornell-I-Yell?" +</P> + +<P> +"Where's yore dry nurse Dingwell?" broke in the ex-convict bitterly. +"Thought he tagged you everywhere. Tell the son-of-a-gun for me that +next time we meet I'll curl his hair right." +</P> + +<P> +Roy said nothing. He looked wildly around for a way of escape and +found none. A half ring of jeering faces walled him from the street. +</P> + +<P> +"Lemme get at him. Lemme crack him one on the bean," insisted Meldrum +as he made a wild pass at Beaudry. +</P> + +<P> +"No hurry a-tall," soothed Ned. "We got all evening before us. Take +yore time, Dan." +</P> + +<P> +"Looks to me like it's certainly up to Mr. +Cherokee-What's-his-name-Beaudry to treat the crowd," suggested Chet +Fox. +</P> + +<P> +The young man clutched at the straw. "Sure. Of course, I will. Glad +to treat, even though I don't drink myself," he said with a weak, +forced heartiness. +</P> + +<P> +"You <I>don't</I> drink. The hell you don't!" cut in Meldrum above the +Babel of voices. +</P> + +<P> +"He drinks—hic—buttermilk," contributed Hart. +</P> + +<P> +"He'll drink whiskey when I give the word, by Gad!" Meldrum shook +himself free of Rutherford and pressed forward. He dragged a bottle +from his pocket, drew out the cork, and thrust the liquor at Roy. +"Drink, you yellow-streaked coyote—and drink a-plenty." +</P> + +<P> +Roy shook his head. "No!—no," he protested. "I—I—never touch it." +His lips were ashen. The color had fled from his cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +The desperado pushed his cruel, vice-scarred face close to that of the +man he hated. +</P> + +<P> +"Sa-ay. Listen to me, young fellow. I'm going to bump you off one o' +these days sure. Me, I don't like yore name nor the color of yore hair +nor the map you wear for a face. I'm a killer. Me, Dan Meldrum. And +I serve notice on you right now." With an effort he brought his mind +back to the issue on hand. "But that ain't the point. When I ask a +man to drink he drinks. See? You ain't deef, are you? Then drink, +you rabbit!" +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry, his heart beating like a triphammer, told himself that he was +not going to drink that they could not make him—that he would die +first. But before he knew it the flask was in his trembling fingers. +Apparently, without the consent of his flaccid will, the muscles had +responded to the impulse of obedience to the spur of fear. Even while +his brain drummed the refrain, "I won't drink—I won't—I won't," the +bottle was rising to his lips. +</P> + +<P> +He turned a ghastly grin on his tormentors. It was meant to propitiate +them, to save the last scrap of his self-respect by the assumption that +they were all good fellows together. Feebly it suggested that after +all a joke is a joke. +</P> + +<P> +From the uptilted flask the whiskey poured into his mouth. He +swallowed, and the fiery liquid scorched his throat. Before he could +hand the liquor back to its owner, the ex-convict broke into a curse. +</P> + +<P> +"Drink, you pink-ear. Don't play 'possum with me," he roared. Roy +drank. Swallow after swallow of the stuff burned its way into his +stomach. He stopped at last, sputtering and coughing. +</P> + +<P> +"M—much obliged. I'll be going now," he stammered. +</P> + +<P> +"Not quite yet, Mr. R. C. Street-Beaudry," demurred Charlton suavely. +"Stay and play with us awhile, now you're here. No telling when we'll +meet again." He climbed on the shoe-shining chair that stood in the +entry. "I reckon I'll have my boots shined up. Go to it, Mr. +Beaudry-Street." +</P> + +<P> +With a whoop of malice the rest of them fell in with the suggestion. +To make this young fellow black their boots in turn was the most +humiliating thing they could think of at the moment. They pushed Roy +toward the stand and put a brush into his hand. He stood still, +hesitating. +</P> + +<P> +"Git down on yore knees and hop to it," ordered Charlton. "Give him +room, boys." +</P> + +<P> +Again Beaudry swore to himself that he would not do it. He had an +impulse to smash that sneering, cruel face, but it was physically +impossible for him to lift a hand to strike. Though he was trembling +violently, he had no intention of yielding. Yet the hinges of his +knees bent automatically. He found himself reaching for the blacking +just as if his will were paralyzed. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps it was the liquor rushing to his head when he stooped. Perhaps +it was the madness of a terror-stricken rat driven into a corner. His +fear broke bounds, leaped into action. Beaudry saw red. With both +hands he caught Charlton's foot, twisted it savagely, and flung the man +head over heels out of the chair. He snatched up the bootblack's stool +by one leg and brought it crashing down on the head of Meldrum. The +ex-convict went down as if he had been pole-axed. +</P> + +<P> +There was no time to draw guns, no time to prepare a defense. His +brain on fire from the liquor he had drunk and his overpowering terror, +Beaudry was a berserk gone mad with the lust of battle. He ran amuck +like a maniac, using the stool as a weapon to hammer down the heads of +his foes. It crashed first upon one, now on another. +</P> + +<P> +Charlton rushed him and was struck down beside Meldrum. Hart, flung +back into the cigar-case, smashed the glass into a thousand splinters. +Young Rutherford was sent spinning into the street. +</P> + +<P> +His assailants gave way before Beaudry, at first slowly, then in a +panic of haste to escape. He drove them to the sidewalk, flailing away +at those within reach. Chet Fox hurdled in his flight a burro loaded +with wood. +</P> + +<P> +Then, suddenly as it had swept over Roy, the brain-storm passed. The +mists cleared from his eyes. He looked down at the leg of the stool in +his hand, which was all that remained of it. He looked up—and saw +Beulah Rutherford in the street astride a horse. +</P> + +<P> +She spoke to her brother, who had drawn a revolver from his pocket. +"You don't need that now, Ned. He's through." +</P> + +<P> +Her contemptuous voice stung Roy. "Why didn't they leave me alone, +then?" he said sullenly in justification. +</P> + +<P> +The girl did not answer him. She slipped from the horse and ran into +the arcade with the light grace that came of perfect health and the +freedom of the hills. The eyes of the young man followed this slim, +long-limbed Diana as she knelt beside Charlton and lifted his bloody +head into her arms. He noticed that her eyes burned and that her +virginal bosom rose and fell in agitation. +</P> + +<P> +None the less she gave first aid with a business-like economy of +motion. "Bring water, Ned,—and a doctor," she snapped crisply, her +handkerchief pressed against the wound. +</P> + +<P> +To see what havoc he had wrought amazed Roy. The arcade looked as if a +cyclone had swept through it. The cigar-stand was shattered beyond +repair, its broken glass strewn everywhere. The chair of the bootblack +had been splintered into kindling wood. Among the debris sat Meldrum +groaning, both hands pressing a head that furiously ached. Brad +Charlton was just beginning to wake up to his surroundings. +</P> + +<P> +A crowd had miraculously gathered from nowhere. The fat marshal of +Battle Butte was puffing up the street a block away. Beaudry judged it +time to be gone. He dropped the leg of the stool and strode toward the +hotel. +</P> + +<P> +Already his fears were active again. What would the hillmen do to him +when they had recovered from the panic into which his madness had +thrown them? Would they start for him at once? Or would they mark one +more score against him and wait? He could scarcely keep his feet from +breaking into a run to get more quickly from the vicinity of the Silver +Dollar. He longed mightily to reach the protection of Dave Dingwell's +experience and debonair <I>sang froid</I>. +</P> + +<P> +The cattleman had not yet reached the hotel. Roy went up to their room +at once and locked himself in. He sat on the bed with a revolver in +his hand. Now that it was all over, he was trembling like an aspen +leaf. For the hundredth time in the past week he flung at himself his +own contemptuous scorn. Why was the son of John Beaudry such an arrant +coward? He knew that his sudden madness and its consequences had been +born of panic. What was there about the quality of his nerves that +differed from those of other men? Even now he was shivering from the +dread that his enemies might come and break down the door to get at him. +</P> + +<P> +He heard the jocund whistle of Dingwell as the cattleman came along the +corridor. Swiftly he pocketed the revolver and unlocked the door. +When Dave entered, Roy was lying on the bed pretending to read a +newspaper. +</P> + +<P> +If the older man noticed that the paper shook, he ignored it. +</P> + +<P> +"What's this I hear, son, about you falling off the water-wagon and +filling the hospital?" His gay grin challenged affectionately the boy +on the bed. "Don't you know you're liable to give the new firm, +Dingwell & Beaudry, a bad name if you pull off insurrections like that? +The city dads are talking some of building a new wing to the accident +ward to accommodate your victims. Taxes will go up and—" +</P> + +<P> +Roy smiled wanly. "You've heard about it, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Heard about it! Say, son, I've heard nothing else for the last twenty +minutes. You're the talk of the town. I didn't know you was such a +bad actor." Dave stopped to break into a chuckle. "Wow! You +certainly hit the high spots. Friend Meldrum and Charlton and our kind +host Hart—all laid out at one clatter. I never was lucky. Here I +wouldn't 'a' missed seeing you pull off this Samson <I>encore</I> for three +cows on the hoof, and I get in too late for the show." +</P> + +<P> +"They're not hurt badly, are they?" asked Beaudry, a little timidly. +</P> + +<P> +Dave looked at him with a curious little smile. "You don't want to go +back and do the job more thorough, do you? No need, son. Meldrum and +Charlton are being patched up in the hospital and Hart was at Doc +White's having the glass picked out of his geography. I've talked with +some of the also rans, and they tell me unanimous that it was the most +thorough clean-up they have participated in recently." +</P> + +<P> +"What will they do—after they get over it?" +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell grinned. "Search me! But I'll tell you what they won't do. +They'll not invite you to take another drink right away. I'll bet a +hat on that.… Come on, son. We got to hit the trail for home." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Roy Improves the Shining Hours +</H3> + + +<P> +The tender spring burnt into crisp summer. Lean hill cattle that had +roughed through the winter storms lost their shaggy look and began to +fill out. For there had been early rains and the bunch grass was +succulent this year. +</P> + +<P> +Roy went about learning his new business with an energy that delighted +his partner. He was eager to learn and was not too proud to ask +questions. The range conditions, the breeding of cattle, and +transportation problems were all studied by him. Within a month or two +he had become a fair horseman and could rope a steer inexpertly. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell threw out a suggestion one day in his characteristic casual +manner. The two men were riding a line fence and Roy had just missed a +shot at a rabbit. +</P> + +<P> +"Better learn to shoot, son. Take an hour off every day and practice. +You hadn't ought to have missed that cottontail. What you want is to +fire accurately, just as soon as yore gun jumps to the shoulder. I can +teach you a wrinkle or two with a six-gun. Then every time you see a +rattler, take a crack at it. Keep in form. <I>You might need to bend a +gun one of these days</I>." +</P> + +<P> +His partner understood what that last veiled allusion meant. The weeks +had slipped away since the fracas in front of the Silver Dollar. The +enemy had made no move. But cowpunchers returning to the ranch from +town reported that both Meldrum and Charlton had sworn revenge. It was +an even bet that either one of them would shoot on sight. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry took Dave's advice. Every day he rode out to a wash and +carried with him a rifle and a revolver. He practiced for rapidity as +well as accuracy. He learned how to fire from the hip, how to empty a +revolver in less than two seconds, how to shoot lying down, and how to +hit a mark either from above or below. +</P> + +<P> +The young man never went to town alone. He stuck close to the ranch. +The first weeks had been full of stark terror lest he might find one of +his enemies waiting for him behind a clump of prickly pear or hidden in +the mesquite of some lonely wash. He was past that stage, but his +nerves were still jumpy. It was impossible for him to forget that at +least three men were deadly enemies of his and would stamp out his life +as they would that of a wolf. Each morning he wakened with a little +shock of dread. At night he breathed relief for a few hours of safety. +</P> + +<P> +Meanwhile Dave watched him with an indolent carelessness of manner that +masked his sympathy. If it had been possible, he would have taken the +burden on his own broad, competent shoulders. But this was not in +Dingwell's code. He had been brought up in that outdoor school of the +West where a man has to game out his own feuds. As the cattleman saw +it, Roy had to go through now just as his father had done seventeen +years before. +</P> + +<P> +In town one day Dave met Pat Ryan and had a talk with him over dinner. +A remark made by the little cowpuncher surprised his friend. Dingwell +looked at him with narrowed, inquiring eyes. +</P> + +<P> +The Irishman nodded. "Ye thought you were the only one that knew it? +Well, I'm on, too, Dave." +</P> + +<P> +"That's not what I hear everywhere else, Pat," answered the cattleman, +still studying the other. "Go down the street and mention the same of +Royal Beaudry—ask any one if he is game. What will you get for a +reply?" +</P> + +<P> +Without the least hesitation Ryan spoke out. "You'll hear that he's +got more guts than any man in Washington County—that he doesn't know +what fear is. Then likely you'll be told it's natural enough, since +he's the son of Jack Beaudry, the fighting sheriff. Ever-rybody +believes that excipt you and me, Dave. We know better." +</P> + +<P> +"What do we know, Pat?" +</P> + +<P> +"We know that the bye is up against a man-size job and is scared stiff." +</P> + +<P> +"Hmp! Was he scared when he licked a dozen men at the Silver Dollar +and laid out for repairs three of the best fighters in New Mexico?" +</P> + +<P> +"You're shouting right he was, Dave. No man alive could 'a' done it if +he hadn't been crazy with fright." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell laughed. "Hope I'm that way, then, when I get into my next +tight place." He added after a moment: "The trouble with the boy is +that he has too much imagination. He makes his own private little hell +beforehand." +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon he never learned to ride herd on his fears." +</P> + +<P> +"Jack Beaudry told me about him onc't. The kid was born after his +mother had been worrying herself sick about Jack. She never could tell +when he'd be brought home dead. Well, Roy inherited fear. I've +noticed that when a sidewinder rattles, he jumps. Same way, when any +one comes up and surprises him. It's what you might call +constitootional with him." +</P> + +<P> +"Yep. That's how I've got it figured. But—" Pat hesitated and +looked meditatively out of the window. +</P> + +<P> +"All right. Onload yore mind. Gimme the run of the pen just as yore +thoughts happen," suggested the cattleman. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm thinking—that he's been lucky, Dave. But soon as Tighe's +tools guess what we know, something's going to happen to Beaudry. He's +got them buffaloed now. But Charlton and Meldrum ain't going to quit. +Can you tell me how your frind will stand the acid next time hell pops?" +</P> + +<P> +Dave shook his head. "I cannot. That's just what is worrying me. +There are men that have to be lashed on by ridicule to stand the gaff. +But Roy is not like that. I reckon he's all the time flogging himself +like the <I>penitentes</I>. He's sick with shame because he can't go out +grinning to meet his troubles.… There ain't a thing I can do for +him. He's got to play out his hand alone." +</P> + +<P> +"Sure he has, and if the luck breaks right, I wouldn't put it past him +to cash in a winner. He's gamer than most of us because he won't quit +even when the divvle of terror is riding his back." +</P> + +<P> +"Another point in his favor is that he learns easily. When he first +came out to the Lazy Double D, he was afraid of horses. He has got +over that. Give him another month and he'll be a pretty fair shot. Up +till the time he struck this country, Roy had lived a soft city life. +He's beginning to toughen. The things that scare a man are those that +are mysteries to him. Any kid will fight his own brother because he +knows all about him, but he's plumb shy about tackling a strange boy. +Well, that's how it is with Roy. He has got the notion that Meldrum +and Charlton are terrors, but now he has licked them onc't, he won't +figure them out as so bad." +</P> + +<P> +"He didn't exactly lick them in a stand-up fight, Dave." +</P> + +<P> +"No, he just knocked them down and tromped on them and put them out of +business," agreed Dingwell dryly. +</P> + +<P> +The eyes of the little Irishman twinkled. "Brad Charlton is giving it +out that it was an accident." +</P> + +<P> +"That's what I'd call it, too, if I was Brad," assented the cattleman +with a grin. "But if we could persuade Roy to put over about one more +accident like that, I reckon Huerfano Park would let him alone." +</P> + +<P> +"While Jess Tighe is living?" +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell fell grave. "I'd forgotten Tighe. No, I expect the kid had +better keep his weather eye peeled as long as that castor-oil smile of +Jess is working." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Rutherford Answers Questions +</H3> + + +<P> +Beulah Rutherford took back with her to Huerfano Park an almost +intolerable resentment against the conditions of her life. She had the +family capacity for sullen silence, and for weeks a kind of despairing +rage simmered in her heart. She was essentially of a very direct, +simple nature, clear as Big Creek where it tumbled down from the top of +the world toward the foothills. An elemental honesty stirred in her. +It was necessary to her happiness that she keep her own self-respect +and be able to approve those she loved. +</P> + +<P> +Just now she could do neither. The atmosphere of the ranch seemed to +stifle her. When she rode out into a brave, clean world of sunshine, +the girl carried her shame along. Ever since she could remember, +outlaws and miscreants had slipped furtively about the suburbs of her +life. The Rutherfords themselves were a hard and savage breed. To +their door had come more than one night rider flying for his life, and +Beulah had accepted the family tradition of hospitality to those at +odds with society. +</P> + +<P> +A fierce, untamed girl of primitive instincts, she was the heritor of +the family temperament. But like threads of gold there ran through the +warp of her being a fineness that was her salvation. She hated +passionately cruelty and falsehood and deceit. All her life she had +walked near pitch and had never been defiled. +</P> + +<P> +Hal Rutherford was too close to her not to feel the estrangement of her +spirit. He watched her anxiously, and at last one morning he spoke. +She was standing on the porch waiting for Jeff to bring Blacky when +Rutherford came out and put his arm around her shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, honey?" he asked timidly. +</P> + +<P> +"It's—everything," she answered, her gaze still on the distant hills. +</P> + +<P> +"You haven't quarreled with Brad?" +</P> + +<P> +"No—and I'm not likely to if he'll let me alone." +</P> + +<P> +Her father did not press the point. If Brad and she had fallen out, +the young man would have to make his own <I>amende</I>. +</P> + +<P> +"None of the boys been deviling you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Aren't you going to tell dad about it, Boots?" +</P> + +<P> +Presently her dark eyes swept round to his. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you say that you didn't know anything about the Western +Express robbery?" +</P> + +<P> +He looked steadily at her. "I didn't say that, Beulah. What I said +was that I didn't know where the stolen gold was hidden—and I didn't." +</P> + +<P> +"That was just an evasion. You meant me to think that we had had +nothing to do with the—the robbery." +</P> + +<P> +"That's right. I did." +</P> + +<P> +"And all the time—" She broke off, a sob choking her throat. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew who did it. That's correct. But I wasn't a party to the +robbery. I knew nothing about it till afterward." +</P> + +<P> +"I've always believed everything you've told me, dad. And now—" +</P> + +<P> +He felt doubt in her shaken voice. She did not know what to think now. +Rutherford set himself to clear away her suspicions. He chose to do it +by telling the exact truth. +</P> + +<P> +"Now you may still believe me, honey. The robbery was planned by +Tighe. I'll not mention the names of those in it. The day after it +was pulled off, I heard of it for the first time. Dave Dingwell knew +too much. To protect my friends I had to bring him up here. Legally +I'm guilty of abduction and of the train robbery, too, because I butted +in after the hold-up and protected the guilty ones. I even tried to +save for them the gold they had taken." +</P> + +<P> +"Were—any of the boys in it, dad?" she quavered. +</P> + +<P> +"One of them. I won't tell you which." +</P> + +<P> +"And Brad?" +</P> + +<P> +"We're not giving names, Boots." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well! I know he was one of them." She slipped her arm within her +father's and gave his hand a little pressure. "I'm glad you told me, +just the same, dad. I'd been thinking—worse things about you." +</P> + +<P> +"That's all right, honey. Now you won't worry any more, will you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know.… That's not all that troubles me. I feel bad when +the boys drink and brawl. That attack on Mr. Beaudry at Battle Butte +was disgraceful," she flamed. "I don't care if he did come up here +spying. Why can't they let him alone?" +</P> + +<P> +He passed a hand in a troubled fashion through his grizzled hair. "You +can bet our boys won't touch him again, Boots. I've laid the law down. +But I can't answer for Tighe. He'll do him a meanness if he can, and +he'll do it quicker since I've broken off with him because you helped +Dingwell and Beaudry to escape. I don't know about Brad." +</P> + +<P> +"I told Brad if he touched him again, I would never speak to him." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe that will hold him hitched, then. Anyhow, I'm not going to make +the young fellow trouble. I'd rather let sleeping dogs lie." +</P> + +<P> +Beulah pressed her arm against his. "I haven't been fair to you, dad. +I might have known you would do right." +</P> + +<P> +"I aim to stay friends with my little girl no matter what happens. +Yore mother gave you into my hands when she was dying and I promised to +be mother and father to you. Yore own father was my brother Anse. He +died before you were born. I've been the only dad you ever had, and I +reckon you know you've been more to me than any of my own boys." +</P> + +<P> +"You shouldn't say that," she corrected quickly. "I'm a girl, and, of +course, you spoil me more. That's all." +</P> + +<P> +She gave him a ferocious little hug and went quickly into the house. +Happiness had swept through her veins like the exquisite flush of dawn. +Her lustrous eyes were wells of glad tears. +</P> + +<P> +The owner of the horse ranch stood on the porch and watched a rider +coming out of the gulch toward him. The man descended heavily from his +horse and moved down the path. Rutherford eyed him grimly. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm back," the dismounted horseman said surlily. +</P> + +<P> +"I see you are." +</P> + +<P> +"Got out of the hospital Thursday." +</P> + +<P> +"Hope you've made up yore mind to behave, Dan." +</P> + +<P> +"It doesn't hurt a man to take a drink onc't in a while." +</P> + +<P> +"Depends on the man. It put you in the hospital." +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum ripped out a sudden oath. "Wait. Just wait till I get that +pink-ear. I'll drill him full of holes right." +</P> + +<P> +"By God, you'll not!" Rutherford's voice was like the snap of a whip. +"Try it. Try it. I'll hunt you down like a wolf and riddle yore +carcass." +</P> + +<P> +In amazement the ex-convict stared at him. "What's ailin' you, +Rutherford?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm through with you and Tighe. You'll stop making trouble or you'll +get out of here. I'm going to clean up the park—going to make it a +place where decent folks can live. You've got yore warning now, Dan. +Walk a straight chalk-line or hit the trail." +</P> + +<P> +"You can't talk that way to me, Rutherford. I know too much," +threatened Meldrum, baring his teeth. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't think it for a minute, Dan. Who is going to take yore word +against mine? I've got the goods on you. I can put you through for +rustling any time I have a mind to move. And if you don't let young +Beaudry alone, I'll do it." +</P> + +<P> +"Am I the only man that ever rustled? Ain't there others in the park? +I reckon you've done some night-riding yore own self." +</P> + +<P> +"Some," drawled Rutherford, with a grim little smile. "By and large, +I've raised a considerable crop of hell. But I'm reforming in my old +age. New Mexico has had a change of heart. Guns are going out, +Meldrum, and little red schoolhouses are coming in. We've got to keep +up with the fashions." +</P> + +<P> +"Hmp! Schoolhouses! I know what's ailin' you. Since Anse +Rutherford's girl—" +</P> + +<P> +"You're off the reservation, Dan," warned the rancher, and again his +low voice had the sting of cactus thorns in it. +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum dropped that subject promptly. "Is Buck going to join this +Sunday-School of yours?" he jeered. "And all the boys?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's the programme. Won't you come in, too?" +</P> + +<P> +"And Jess Tighe. He'll likely be one of the teachers." +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better ask him. He hasn't notified me." +</P> + +<P> +"Hell! You and yore kin have given the name to deviltry in this +country. Mothers scare their kids by telling them the Rutherfords will +git them." +</P> + +<P> +"Fact. But that's played out. My boys are grown up and are at the +turn of the trail. It hit me plumb in the face when you fools pulled +off that express robbery. It's a piece of big luck you're not all +headed for the penitentiary. I know when I've had enough. So now I +quit." +</P> + +<P> +"All right. Quit. But we haven't all got to go to the mourner's bench +with you, have we? You can travel yore trail and we can go ours, can't +we?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not when we're on the same range, Dan. What I say goes." The eyes of +Rutherford bored into the cruel little shifty ones of the bad man. +"Take yore choice, Dan. It's quit yore deviltry or leave this part of +the country." +</P> + +<P> +"Who elected you czar of Huerfano Park?" demanded Meldrum, furious with +anger. +</P> + +<P> +He glared at the ranchman impotently, turned away with a mumbled oath, +and went back with jingling spurs to his horse. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Beaudry Blows a Smoke Wreath +</H3> + + +<P> +Royal Beaudry carried about with him in his work on the Lazy Double D +persistent memories of the sloe-eyed gypsy who had recently played so +large a part in his life. Men of imagination fall in love, not with a +woman, but with the mystery they make of her. The young cattleman was +not yet a lover, but a rumor of the future began to murmur in his ears. +Beulah Rutherford was on the surface very simple and direct, but his +thoughts were occupied with the soul of her. What was the girl like +whose actions functioned in courage and independence and harsh +hostility? +</P> + +<P> +Life had imposed on her a hard finish. But it was impossible for Roy +to believe that this slender, tawny child of the wind and the sun could +at heart be bitter and suspicious. He had seen the sweet look of her +dark-lashed eyes turned in troubled appeal upon her father. There had +been one hour when he had looked into her face and found it radiant, +all light and response and ecstasy. The emotion that had pulsed +through her then had given the lie to the sullen silence upon which she +fell back as a defense. If the gods were good to her some day, the red +flower of passion would bloom on her cheeks and the mists that dulled +her spirit would melt in the warm sunshine of love. +</P> + +<P> +So the dreamer wove the web of his fancy about her, and the mystery +that was Beulah Rutherford lay near his thoughts when he walked or rode +or ate or talked. +</P> + +<P> +Nor did it lessen his interest in her that he felt she despised him. +The flash of her scornful eyes still stung him. He was beyond caring +whether she thought him a spy. He knew that the facts justified him in +his attempt to save Dingwell. But he writhed that she should believe +him a coward. It came too close home. And since the affray in the +arcade, no doubt she set him down, too, as a drunken rowdy. +</P> + +<P> +He made the usual vain valorous resolutions of youth to show her his +heroic quality. These served at least one good purpose. If he could +not control his fears, he could govern his actions. Roy forced himself +by sheer will power to ride alone into Battle Butte once a week. +Without hurry he went about his business up and down Mission Street. +</P> + +<P> +The town watched him and commented. "Got sand in his craw, young +Beaudry has," was the common verdict. Men wondered what would happen +when he met Charlton and Meldrum. Most of them would have backed John +Beaudry's son both in their hopes and in their opinion of the result. +</P> + +<P> +Into saloons and gambling-houses word was carried, and from there to +the hillmen of the park by industrious peddlers of trouble, that the +young cattleman from the Lazy Double D could be found by his enemies +heeled for business whenever they wanted him. +</P> + +<P> +Charlton kept morosely to the park. If he had had nothing to consider +except his own inclination, he would have slapped the saddle upon a +cowpony and ridden in to Battle Butte at once. But Beulah had laid an +interdict upon him. For a year he had been trying to persuade her to +marry him, and he knew that he must say good-bye to his hopes if he +fought with his enemy. +</P> + +<P> +It was fear that kept Meldrum at home. He had been a killer, but the +men he had killed had been taken at advantage. It was one thing to +shoot this Beaudry cub down from ambush. It was another to meet him in +the open. Moreover, he knew the Rutherfords. The owner of the horse +ranch had laid the law down to him. No chance shot from the chaparral +was to cut down Dingwell's partner. +</P> + +<P> +The ex-convict listened to the whispers of Tighe. He brooded over +them, but he did not act on them. His alcohol-dulled brain told him +that he had reached the limit of public sufferance. One more killing +by him, and he would pay the penalty at the hands of the law. When he +took his revenge, it must be done so secretly that no evidence could +connect him with the crime. He must, too, have an <I>alibi</I> acceptable +to Hal Rutherford. +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum carried with him to Battle Butte, on his first trip after the +arcade affair, a fixed determination to avoid Beaudry. In case he met +him, he would pass without speaking. +</P> + +<P> +But all of Meldrum's resolutions were apt to become modified by +subsequent inhibitions. In company with one or two cronies he made a +tour of the saloons of the town. At each of them he said, "Have +another," and followed his own advice to show good faith. +</P> + +<P> +On one of these voyages from port to port the bad man from Chicito +Cañon sighted a tall, lean-flanked, long-legged brown man. He was +crossing the street so that the party came face to face with him at the +apex of a right angle. The tanned stranger in corduroys, hickory +shirt, and pinched-in hat of the range rider was Royal Beaudry. It was +with a start of surprise that Meldrum recognized him. His enemy was no +longer a "pink-ear." There was that in his stride, his garb, and the +steady look of his eye which told of a growing confidence and +competence. He looked like a horseman of the plains, fit for any +emergency that might confront him. +</P> + +<P> +Taken at advantage by the suddenness of the meeting, Meldrum gave +ground with a muttered oath. The young cattleman nodded to the trio +and kept on his way. None of the others knew that his heart was +hammering a tattoo against his ribs or that queer little chills chased +each other down his spine. +</P> + +<P> +Chet Fox ventured a sly dig at the ex-convict. "Looks a right healthy +sick man, Dan." +</P> + +<P> +"Who said he was sick?" growled Meldrum. +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't you-all say he was good as dead?" +</P> + +<P> +"A man can change his mind, Chet, can't he?" jeered Hart. +</P> + +<P> +The blotched face of the bad man grew purple. "That'll be about enough +from both of you. But I'll say this: when I get ready to settle with +Mr. Beaudry you can order his coffin." +</P> + +<P> +Nevertheless, Meldrum had the humiliating sense that he had failed to +live up to his reputation as a killer. He had promised Battle Butte to +give it something to talk about, but he had not meant to let the +whisper pass that he was a four-flusher. His natural recourse was to +further libations. These made for a sullen, ingrowing rage as the day +grew older. +</P> + +<P> +More than one well-meaning citizen carried to Roy the superfluous +warning that Meldrum was in town and drinking hard. The young man +thanked them quietly without comment. His reticence gave the +impression of strength. +</P> + +<P> +But Beaudry felt far from easy in mind. A good deal of water had +flowed under the Big Creek bridge since the time when he had looked +under the bed at nights for burglars. He had schooled himself not to +yield to the impulses of his rabbit heart, but the unexpected clatter +of hoofs still set his pulses a-flutter. Why had fate snatched so +gentle a youth from his law desk and flung him into such turbid waters +to sink or swim? All he had asked was peace—friends, books, a quiet +life. By some ironic quirk be found himself in scenes of battle and +turmoil. As the son of John Beaudry he was expected to show an +unflawed nerve, whereas his eager desire was to run away and hide. +</P> + +<P> +He resisted the first panicky incitement to fly back to the Lazy Double +D, and went doggedly about the business that had brought him to Battle +Butte. Roy had come to meet a cattle-buyer from Denver and the man had +wired that he would be in on the next train. Meanwhile Beaudry had to +see the blacksmith, the feed-store manager, the station agent, and +several others. +</P> + +<P> +This kept him so busy that he reached the Station only just in time to +meet the incoming train. He introduced himself to the buyer, captured +his suitcase, and turned to lead the way to the rig. +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum lurched forward to intercept him. "Shus' a moment." +</P> + +<P> +Roy went white. He knew the crisis was upon him. The right hand of +the hillman was hidden under the breast of his coat. Even the +cattle-buyer from Denver knew what was in that hand and edged toward +the train. For this ruffian was plainly working himself into a rage +sufficient to launch murder. +</P> + +<P> +"Yore father railroaded me to the penitentiary—cooked up testimony +against me. You bust me with a club when I wasn't looking. Here's +where I git even. See?" +</P> + +<P> +The imminence of tragedy had swept the space about them empty of +people. Roy knew with a sinking heart that it was between him and the +hillman to settle this alone. He had been caught with the suitcase in +his right hand, so that he was practically trapped unarmed. Before he +could draw his revolver, Meldrum would be pumping lead. +</P> + +<P> +Two months ago under similar circumstances terror had paralyzed Roy's +thinking power. Now his brain functioned in spite of his fear. He was +shaken to the center of his being, but he was not in panic. +Immediately he set himself to play the poor cards he found in his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Liar!" Beaudry heard a chill voice say and knew it was his own. +"Liar on both counts! My father sent you up because you were a thief. +I beat your head off because you are a bully. Listen!" Roy shot the +last word out in crescendo to forestall the result of a convulsive +movement of the hand beneath his enemy's coat. "<I>Listen, if you want +to live the day out</I>, you yellow coyote!" +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry had scored his first point—to gain time for his argument to +get home to the sodden brain. Dave Dingwell had told him that most men +were afraid of something, though some hid it better than others; and he +had added that Dan Meldrum had the murderer's dread lest vengeance +overtake him unexpectedly. Roy knew now that his partner had spoken +the true word. At that last stinging sentence, alarm had jumped to the +blear eyes of the former convict. +</P> + +<P> +"Whadjamean?" demanded Meldrum thickly, the menace of horrible things +in his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Mean? Why, this. You came here to kill me, but you haven't the nerve +to do it. You've reached the end of your rope, Dan Meldrum. You're a +killer, but you'll never kill again. Murder me, and the law would hang +you high as Haman—<I>if it ever got a chance</I>." +</P> + +<P> +The provisional clause came out with a little pause between each word +to stress the meaning. The drunken man caught at it to spur his rage. +</P> + +<P> +"Hmp! Mean you're man enough to beat the law to it?" +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry managed to get out a derisive laugh. "Oh, no! Not when I have +a suitcase in my right hand and you have the drop on me. I can't help +myself—<I>and twenty men see it</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"Think they'll help you?" Meldrum swept his hand toward the frightened +loungers and railroad officials. His revolver was out in the open now. +He let its barrel waver in a semi-circle of defiance. +</P> + +<P> +"No. They won't help me, but they'll hang you. There's no hole where +you can hide that they won't find you. Before night you'll be swinging +underneath the big live-oak on the plaza. That's a prophecy for you to +swallow, you four-flushing bully." +</P> + +<P> +It went home like an arrow. The furtive eyes of the killer slid +sideways to question this public which had scattered so promptly to +save itself. Would the mob turn on him later and destroy him? +</P> + +<P> +Young Beaudry's voice flowed on. "Even if you reached the hills, you +would be doomed. Tighe can't save you—and he wouldn't try. +Rutherford would wash his hands of you. They'll drag you back from +your hole." +</P> + +<P> +The prediction rang a bell in Meldrum's craven soul. Again he sought +reassurance from those about him and found none. In their place he +knew that he would revenge himself for present humiliation by cruelty +later. He was checkmated. +</P> + +<P> +It was an odd psychological effect of Beaudry's hollow defiance that +confidence flowed in upon him as that of Meldrum ebbed. The chill +drench of fear had lifted from his heart. It came to him that his +enemy lacked the courage to kill. Safety lay in acting upon this +assumption. +</P> + +<P> +He raised his left hand and brushed the barrel of the revolver aside +contemptuously, then turned and walked along the platform to the +building. At the door he stopped, to lean faintly against the jamb, +still without turning. Meldrum might shoot at any moment. It depended +on how drunk he was, how clearly he could vision the future, how +greatly his prophecy had impressed him. Cold chills ran up and down +the spinal column of the young cattleman. His senses were reeling. +</P> + +<P> +To cover his weakness Roy drew tobacco from his coat-pocket and rolled +a cigarette with trembling fingers. He flashed a match. A moment +later an insolent smoke wreath rose into the air and floated back +toward Meldrum. Roy passed through the waiting-room to the street +beyond. +</P> + +<P> +Young Beaudry knew that the cigarette episode had been the weak bluff +of one whose strength had suddenly deserted him. He had snatched at it +to cover his weakness. But to the score or more who saw that spiral of +smoke dissolving jauntily into air, no such thought was possible. The +filmy wreath represented the acme of dare-devil recklessness, the final +proof of gameness in John Beaudry's son. He had turned his back on a +drunken killer crazy for revenge and mocked the fellow at the risk of +his life. +</P> + +<P> +Presently Roy and the cattle-buyer were bowling down the street behind +Dingwell's fast young four-year-olds. The Denver man did not know that +his host was as weak from the reaction of the strain as a child +stricken with fear. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +At the Lazy Double D +</H3> + + +<P> +Dingwell squinted over the bunch of cattle in the corral. "Twenty +dollars on the hoof, f.o.b. at the siding," he said evenly. "You to +take the run of the pen, no culls." +</P> + +<P> +"I heard you before," protested the buyer. "Learn a new song, +Dingwell. I don't like the tune of that one. Make it eighteen and let +me cull the bunch." +</P> + +<P> +Dave garnered a straw clinging to the fence and chewed it meditatively. +"Couldn't do it without hurting my conscience. Nineteen—no culls. +That's my last word." +</P> + +<P> +"I'd sure hate to injure your conscience, Dingwell," grinned the man +from Denver. "Think I'll wait till you go to town and do business with +your partner." +</P> + +<P> +"Think he's easy, do you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Easy!" The cattle-buyer turned the conversation to the subject +uppermost in his mind. He had already decided to take the cattle and +the formal agreement could wait. "Easy! Say, do you know what I saw +that young man put over to-day at the depot?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll know when you've told me," suggested Dingwell. +</P> + +<P> +The Denver man told his story and added editorial comment. "Gamest +thing I ever saw in my life, by Jiminy—stood there with his back to +the man-killer and lit a cigarette while the ruffian had his finger on +the trigger of a six-gun ready to whang away at him. Can you beat +that?" +</P> + +<P> +The eyes of the cattleman gleamed, but his drawling voice was still +casual. "Why didn't Meldrum shoot?" +</P> + +<P> +"Triumph of mind over matter, I reckon. He <I>wanted</I> to shoot—was +crazy to kill your friend. But—he didn't. Beaudry had talked him out +of it." +</P> + +<P> +"How?" +</P> + +<P> +"Bullied him out of it—jeered at him and threatened him and man-called +him, with that big gun shining in his eyes every minute of the time." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell nodded slowly. He wanted to get the full flavor of this +joyous episode that had occurred. "And the kid lit his cigarette while +Meldrum, crazy as a hydrophobia skunk, had his gun trained on him?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's right. Stood there with a kind o' you-be-damned placard stuck +all over him, then got out the makings and lit up. He tilted back that +handsome head of his and blew a smoke wreath into the air. Looked like +he'd plumb wiped Mr. Meldrum off his map. He's a world-beater, that +young fellow is—doesn't know what fear is," concluded the buyer sagely. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't say!" murmured Mr. Dingwell. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure as you're a foot high. While I was trying to climb up the side +of a railroad car to get out of range, that young guy was figuring it +all out. He was explaining thorough to the bad man what would happen +if he curled his fore-finger another quarter of an inch. Just as cool +and easy, you understand." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean that he figured out his chances?" +</P> + +<P> +"You bet you! He figured it all out, played a long shot, and won. The +point is that it wouldn't help him any if this fellow Meldrum starred +in a subsequent lynching. The man had been drinking like a blue +blotter. Had he sense enough left to know his danger? Was his brain +steady enough to hold him in check? Nobody could tell that. But your +partner gambled on it and won." +</P> + +<P> +This was meat and drink to Dave. He artfully pretended to make light +of the whole affair in order to stir up the buyer to more details. +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon maybe Meldrum was just bluffing. Maybe—" +</P> + +<P> +"Bluffing!" The Coloradoan swelled. "Bluffing! I tell you there was +murder in the fellow's eye. He had come there primed for a killing. +If Beaudry had weakened by a hair's breadth, that forty-four would have +pumped lead into his brain. Ask the train crew. Ask the station +agent. Ask any one who was there." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybeso," assented Dave dubiously. "But if he was so game, why didn't +Beaudry go back and take Meldrum's gun from him?" +</P> + +<P> +The buyer was on the spot with an eager, triumphant answer. "That just +proves what I claim. He just brushed the fellow's gun aside and acted +like he'd forgot the killer had a gun. 'Course, he could 'a' gone back +and taken the gun. After what he'd already pulled off, that would have +been like stealing apples from a blind Dutchman. But Beaudry wasn't +going to give him that much consideration. Don't you see? Meldrum, or +whatever his name is, was welcome to keep the revolver to play with. +Your friend didn't care how many guns he was toting." +</P> + +<P> +"I see. It he had taken the gun, Meldrum might have thought he was +afraid of him." +</P> + +<P> +"Now you're shouting. As it is the bad man is backed clear off the +earth. It's like as if your partner said, 'Garnish yourself with +forty-fours if you like, but don't get gay around me.'" +</P> + +<P> +"So you think—" +</P> + +<P> +"I think he's some bear-cat, that young fellow. When you 're looking +for something easy to mix with, go pick a grizzly or a wild cat, but +don't you monkey with friend Beaudry. He's liable to interfere with +your interior geography.… Say, Dingwell. Do I get to cull this +bunch of longhorn skeletons you're misnaming cattle?" +</P> + +<P> +"You do not." +</P> + +<P> +The Denver man burlesqued a sigh. "Oh, well! I'll go broke dealing +with you unsophisticated Shylocks of the range. The sooner the +quicker. Send 'em down to the siding. I'll take the bunch." +</P> + +<P> +Roy rode up on a pinto. +</P> + +<P> +"Help! Help!" pleaded the Coloradoan of the young man. +</P> + +<P> +"He means that I've unloaded this corral full of Texas dinosaurs on him +at nineteen a throw." explained Dave. +</P> + +<P> +"You've made a good bargain," Beaudry told the buyer. +</P> + +<P> +"'Course he has, and he knows it." Dingwell opened on Roy his gay +smile. "I hear you've had a run-in with the bad man of Chicito Cañon, +son." +</P> + +<P> +Roy looked at the Denver man reproachfully. Ever since the affair on +the station platform he had been flogging himself because he had driven +away and left Meldrum in possession of the field. No doubt all Battle +Butte knew now how frightened he had been. The women were gossiping +about it over their tea, probably, and men were retailing the story in +saloons and on sidewalks. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't want any trouble," he said apologetically. "I—I just left +him." +</P> + +<P> +"That's what I've been hearing," assented Dave dryly. "You merely +showed him up for a false alarm and kicked him into the discard. +That's good, and it's bad. We know now that Meldrum won't fight you in +the open. You've got him buffaloed. But he'll shoot you in the back +if he can do it safely. I know the cur. After this don't ride alone, +Roy, and don't ride that painted hoss at all. Get you a nice quiet +buckskin that melts into the atmosphere like a patch of bunch grass. +Them's my few well-chosen words of advice, as Mañana Bill used to say." +</P> + +<P> +Three days later Beaudry, who had been superintending the extension of +an irrigation ditch, rode up to the porch of the Lazy Double D ranch +house and found Hal Rutherford, senior, with his chair tilted back +against the wall. The smoke of his pipe mingled fraternally with that +of Dingwell's cigar. He nodded genially to Roy without offering to +shake hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Rutherford dropped in to give us the latest about Meldrum," +explained Dave. "Seems he had warned our friend the crook to lay off +you, son. When Dan showed up again at the park, he bumped into Miss +Beulah and said some pleasant things to her. He hadn't noticed that +Jeff was just round the corner of the schoolhouse fixing up some dingus +as a platform for the last day's speaking. Jeff always was hot-headed. +Before he had got through with Mr. Meldrum, he had mussed his hair up +considerable. Dan tried to gun him and got an awful walloping. He hit +the trail to Jess Tighe's place. When Mr. Rutherford heard of it, he +was annoyed. First off, because of what had happened at the depot. +Second, and a heap more important, because the jailbird had threatened +Miss Beulah. So he straddled a horse and called on Dan, who shook the +dust of Huerfano Park from his bronco's hoofs <I>poco tiempo</I>." +</P> + +<P> +"Where has he gone?" asked Roy. +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody knows, and he won't tell. But, knowing Meldrum as we do, +Rutherford and I have come to a coincidentical opinion, as you might +say. He's a bad actor, that bird. We figure that he's waiting in the +chaparral somewhere to pull off a revenge play, after which he means +<I>pronto</I> to slide his freight across the line to the land of old Porf. +Diaz." +</P> + +<P> +"Revenge—on Jeff Rutherford—or who?" +</P> + +<P> +"Son, that's a question. But Jeff won't be easily reached. On the +whole, we think you're elected." +</P> + +<P> +Roy's heart sank. If Meldrum had been kicked out of Huerfano Park, +there was no room for him in New Mexico. Probably the fear of the +Rutherfords had been a restraint upon him up to this time. But now +that he had broken with them and was leaving the country, the man was +free to follow the advice of Tighe. He was a bully whose prestige was +tottering. It was almost sure that he would attempt some savage act of +reprisal before he left. Beaudry had no doubt that he would be the +victim of it. +</P> + +<P> +"What am I to do, then?" he wanted to know, his voice quavering. +</P> + +<P> +"Stay right here at the ranch. Don't travel from the house till we +check up on Meldrum. Soon as he shows his hand, we'll jump him and run +him out of the country. All you've got to do is to sit tight till we +locate him." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll not leave the house," Roy vowed fervently. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XXI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Roy Rides his Paint Hoss +</H3> + + +<P> +But he did. +</P> + +<P> +For next day Pat Ryan rode up to the Lazy Double D with a piece of news +that took Roy straight to his pinto. Beulah Rutherford had +disappeared. She had been out riding and Blacky had come home with an +empty saddle. So far as was known, Brad Charlton had seen her last. +He had met her just above the Laguna Sinks, had talked with her, and +had left the young woman headed toward the mountains. +</P> + +<P> +The word had reached Battle Butte through Slim Sanders, who had been +sent down from Huerfano Park for help. The Rutherfords and their +friends were already combing the hills for the lost girl, but the owner +of the horse ranch wanted Sheriff Sweeney to send out posses as a +border patrol. Opinion was divided. Some thought Beulah might have +met a grizzly, been unhorsed, and fallen a victim to it. There was the +possibility that she might have stumbled while climbing and hurt +herself. According to Sanders, her father held to another view. He +was convinced that Meldrum was at the bottom of the thing. +</P> + +<P> +This was Roy's instant thought, too. He could not escape the sinister +suggestion that through the girl the ruffian had punished them all. +While he gave sharp, short orders to get together the riders of the +ranch, his mind was busy with the situation. Had he better join +Sweeney's posse and patrol the desert? Or would he help more by +pushing straight into the hills? +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell rode up and looked around in surprise. "What's the stir, son?" +</P> + +<P> +His partner told him what he had heard and what he suspected. +</P> + +<P> +Before he answered, Dave chewed a meditative cud. "Maybeso you're +right—and maybe 'way off. Say you're wrong. Say Meldrum has nothing +to do with this. In that case it is in the hills that we have got to +find Miss Beulah." +</P> + +<P> +"But he has. I feel sure he has. Mr. Ryan says Rutherford thinks so, +too." +</P> + +<P> +"Both you and Hal have got that crook Meldrum in yore minds. You've +been thinking a lot about him, so you jump to the conclusion that what +you're afraid of has happened. The chances are ten to one against it. +But we'll say you're right. Put yourself in Meldrum's place. What +would he do?" +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry turned a gray, agonized face on his friend. "I don't know. +What—what would he do?" +</P> + +<P> +"The way to get at it is to figure yourself in his boots. Remember +that you're a bad, rotten lot, cur to the bone. You meet up with this +girl and get her in yore power. You've got a grudge against her +because she spoiled yore plans, and because through her you were handed +the whaling of yore life and are being hounded out of the country. +You're sore clear through at all her people and at all her friends. +Naturally, you're as sweet-tempered as a sore-headed bear, and you've +probably been drinking like a sheepherder on a spree." +</P> + +<P> +"I know what a devil he is. The question is how far would he dare go?" +</P> + +<P> +"You've put yore finger right on the point, son. What might restrain +him wouldn't be any moral sense, but fear. He knows that once he +touched Miss Rutherford, this country would treat him like a +rattlesnake. He could not even be sure that the Rutherfords would not +hunt him down in Mexico." +</P> + +<P> +"You think he would let her alone, then?" +</P> + +<P> +The old-timer shook his head. "No, he wouldn't do that. But I reckon +he'd try to postpone a decision as long as he could. Unless he +destroyed her in the first rush of rage, he wouldn't have the nerve to +do it until he had made himself crazy drunk. It all depends on +circumstances, but my judgment is—if he had a chance and if he didn't +think it too great a risk—that he would try to hold her a prisoner as +a sort of hostage to gloat over." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean keep her—unharmed?" +</P> + +<P> +They were already in the saddle and on the road. Dave looked across at +his white-faced friend. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm only guessing, Roy, but that's the way I figure it," he said +gently. +</P> + +<P> +"You don't think he would try to take her across the desert with him to +Mexico." +</P> + +<P> +Ryan shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +"No chance. He couldn't make it. When he leaves the hills, Miss +Rutherford will stay there." +</P> + +<P> +"Alive?" asked Beaudry from a dry throat. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't know." +</P> + +<P> +"God!" +</P> + +<P> +"So that whether Miss Beulah did or did not meet Meldrum, we have to +look for her up among the mountains of the Big Creek watershed," +concluded Dingwell. "I believe we'll find her safe and sound. Chances +are Meldrum isn't within forty miles of her." +</P> + +<P> +They were riding toward Lonesome Park, from which they intended to work +up into the hills. Just before reaching the rim of the park, they +circled around a young pine lying across the trail. Roy remembered the +tree. It had stood on a little knoll, strong and graceful, reaching +straight toward heaven with a kind of gallant uprightness. Now its +trunk was snapped, its boughs crushed, its foliage turning sere. An +envious wind had brought it low. Somehow that pine reminded Beaudry +poignantly of the girl they were seeking. She, too, had always stood +aloof, a fine and vital personality, before the eyes of men sufficient +to herself. But as the evergreen had stretched its hundred arms toward +light and sunshine, so Beulah Rutherford had cried dumbly to life for +some vague good she could not formulate. +</P> + +<P> +Were her pride and courage abased, too? Roy would not let himself +believe it. The way of youth is to deny the truth of all signposts +which point to the futility of beauty and strength. It would be a kind +of apostasy to admit that her sweet, lissom grace might be forever +crushed and bruised. +</P> + +<P> +They rode hard and steadily. Before dusk they were well up toward the +divide among the wooded pockets of the hills. From one of these a man +came to meet them. +</P> + +<P> +"It's Hal Rutherford," announced Ryan, who was riding in front with +Dingwell. +</P> + +<P> +The owner of the horse ranch nodded a greeting as he drew up in front +of them. He was unshaven and gaunt. Furrows of anxiety lined his face. +</P> + +<P> +"Anything new, Hal?" asked Dave. +</P> + +<P> +"Not a thing. We're combing the hills thorough." +</P> + +<P> +"You don't reckon that maybe a cougar—?" Ryan stopped. It occurred +to him that his suggestion was not a very cheerful one. +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford looked at the little Irishman from bleak eyes. The misery +in them was for the moment submerged in a swift tide of hate. "A +two-legged cougar, Pat. If I meet up with him, I'll take his hide off +inch by inch." +</P> + +<P> +"Meaning Meldrum?" asked Roy. +</P> + +<P> +"Meaning Meldrum." A spasm of pain shot across the face of the man. +"If he's done my little girl any meanness, he'd better blow his head +off before I get to him." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't believe he'd dare hurt Miss Beulah, Rutherford. Meldrum belongs +to the coyote branch of the wolf family. I've noticed it's his night +to howl only when hunters are liable to be abed. If he's in this thing +at all, I'll bet he's trying to play both ends against the middle. +We'll sure give him a run for his white alley," Dingwell concluded. +</P> + +<P> +"Hope you're right, Dave," Rutherford added in a voice rough with the +feeling he could not suppress: "I appreciate it that you boys from the +Lazy Double D came after what has taken place." +</P> + +<P> +Dave grinned cheerfully. "Sho, Hal! Maybe Beaudry and I aren't +sending any loving-cups up to you and yours, but we don't pull any of +that sulk-in-the-tent stuff when our good friend Beulah Rutherford is +lost in the hills. She went through for us proper, and we ain't going +to quit till we bring her back to you as peart and sassy as that calf +there." +</P> + +<P> +"What part of the country do you want us to work?" asked Ryan. +</P> + +<P> +"You can take Del Oro and Lame Cow Creeks from the divide down to the +foothills," Rutherford answered. "I'll send one of the boys over to +boss the round-up. He'll know the ground better than you lads. Make +camp here to-night and he'll join you before you start. To-morrow +evening I'll have a messenger meet you on the flats. We're trying to +keep in touch with each other, you understand." +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford left them making camp. They were so far up in the mountains +that the night was cool, even though the season was midsummer. Unused +to sleeping outdoors as yet, Roy lay awake far into the night. His +nerves were jumpy. The noises of the grazing horses and of the +four-footed inhabitants of the night startled him more than once from a +cat-nap. His thoughts were full of Beulah Rutherford. Was she alive +or dead to-night, in peril or in safety? +</P> + +<P> +At last, in the fag end of the night, he fell into sound sleep that was +untroubled. From this he was wakened in the first dim dawn by the +sound of his companions stirring. A fire was already blazing and +breakfast in process of making. He rose and stretched his stiff limbs. +Every bone seemed to ache from contact with the hard ground. +</P> + +<P> +While they were eating breakfast, a man rode up and dismounted. A +long, fresh zigzag scar stretched across his forehead. It was as plain +to be seen as the scowl which drew his heavy eyebrows together. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lo, Charlton. Come to boss this round-up for us?" asked Dingwell +cheerily. +</P> + +<P> +The young man nodded sulkily. "Hal sent me. The boys weren't with +him." He looked across the fire at Beaudry, and there was smouldering +rage in his narrowed eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Roy murmured "Good-morning" in a rather stifled voice. This was the +first time he had met Charlton since they had clashed in the arcade of +the Silver Dollar. That long deep scar fascinated him. He felt an +impulse to apologize humbly for having hit him so hard. To put such a +mark on a man for life was a liberty that might well be taken as a +personal affront. No wonder Charlton hated him—and as their eyes met +now, Roy had no doubt about that. The man was his enemy. Some day he +would even the score. Again Beaudry's heart felt the familiar drench +of an icy wave. +</P> + +<P> +Charlton did not answer his greeting. He flushed to his throat, turned +abruptly on his heel, and began to talk with Ryan. The hillman wanted +it clearly understood that the feud he cherished was only temporarily +abandoned. But even Roy noticed that the young Admirable Crichton had +lost some of his debonair aplomb. +</P> + +<P> +The little Irishman explained this with a grin to Dave as they were +riding together half an hour later. "It's not so easy to get away with +that slow insolence of his while he's wearing that forgit-me-not young +Beaudry handed him in the mix-up." +</P> + +<P> +"Sort of spoils the toutensemble, as that young Melrose tenderfoot used +to say—kinder as if a bald-haided guy was playing Romeo and had lost +his wig in the shuffle," agreed Dave. +</P> + +<P> +By the middle of the forenoon they were well up in the headwaters of +the two creeks they were to work. Charlton divided the party so as to +cover both watersheds as they swept slowly down. Roy was on the +extreme right of those working Del Oro. +</P> + +<P> +It was a rough country, with wooded draws cached in unexpected pockets +of the hills. Here a man might lie safely on one of a hundred ledges +while the pursuit drove past within fifty feet of him. As Roy's pinto +clambered up and down the steep hills, he recalled the advice of Dave +to ride a buckskin "that melts into the atmosphere like a patch of +bunch grass." He wished he had taken that advice. A man looking for +revenge could crouch in the chaparral and with a crook of his finger +send winged death at his enemy. A twig crackling under the hoof of his +horse more than once sent an electric shock through his pulses. The +crash of a bear through the brush seemed to stop the beating of his +heart. +</P> + +<P> +Charlton had made a mistake in putting Beaudry on the extreme right of +the drive. The number of men combing the two creeks was not enough to +permit close contact. Sometimes a rider was within hail of his +neighbor. More often he was not. Roy, unused to following the rodeo, +was deflected by the topography of the ridge so far to the right that +he lost touch with the rest. +</P> + +<P> +By the middle of the afternoon he had to confess to himself with +chagrin that he did not even know how to reach Del Oro. While he had +been riding the rough wooded ridge above, the creek had probably made a +sharp turn to the left. Must he go back the way he had come? Or could +he cut across country to it? It was humiliating that he could not even +follow a small river without losing the stream and himself. He could +vision the cold sneer of Charlton when he failed to appear at the night +rendezvous. Even his friends would be annoyed at such helplessness. +</P> + +<P> +After an hour's vain search he was more deeply tangled in the web of +hills. He was no longer even sure how to get down from them into the +lower reaches of country toward which he was aiming. +</P> + +<P> +While he hesitated on a ridge there came to him a faint, far cry. He +gave a shout of relief, then listened for his answer. It did not come. +He called again, a third time, and a fourth. The wind brought back no +reply. Roy rode in the direction of the sound that had first +registered itself on his ears, stopping every minute or two to shout. +Once he fancied he heard again the voice. +</P> + +<P> +Then, unexpectedly, the cry came perfectly clear, over to the right +scarcely a hundred yards. A little arroyo of quaking aspens lay +between him and the one who called. He dismounted, tied his horse to a +sapling, and pushed through the growth of young trees. Emerging from +these, he climbed the brow of the hill and looked around. Nobody was +in sight. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you?" he shouted. +</P> + +<P> +"Here—in the prospect hole." +</P> + +<P> +His pulses crashed. That voice—he would have known it out of a +million. +</P> + +<P> +A small dirt dump on the hillside caught his eye. He ran forward to +the edge of a pit and looked down. +</P> + +<P> +The haggard eyes of Beulah Rutherford were lifted to meet his. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XXII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Miss Rutherford Speaks her Mind +</H3> + + +<P> +For the first time in over a year an itinerant preacher was to hold +services in the Huerfano Park schoolhouse. He would speak, Beulah +Rutherford knew, to a mere handful of people, and it was to mitigate +his disappointment that she rode out into the hills on the morning of +her disappearance to find an armful of columbines for decorating the +desk-pulpit. The man had written Miss Rutherford and asked her to +notify the community. She had seen that the news was carried to the +remotest ranch, but she expected for a congregation only a scatter of +patient women and restless children with three or four coffee-brown +youths in high-heeled boots on the back row to represent the sinners. +</P> + +<P> +It was a brave, clean world into which she rode this summer morning. +The breeze brought to her nostrils the sweet aroma of the sage. Before +her lifted the saw-toothed range into a sky of blue sprinkled here and +there with light mackerel clouds. Blacky pranced with fire and +intelligence, eager to reach out and leave behind him the sunny miles. +</P> + +<P> +Near the upper end of the park she swung up an arroyo that led to Big +Flat Top. A drawling voice stopped her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you, Beulah Rutherford! Where away this glad mo'ning?" +</P> + +<P> +A loose-seated rider was lounging in the saddle on a little bluff fifty +yards away. His smile reminded her of a new copper kettle shining in +the sun. +</P> + +<P> +"To find columbines for church decorations," she said with an answering +smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you been building a church since I last met up with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"There will be services in the schoolhouse tomorrow at three P.M., +conducted by the Reverend Melancthon Smith. Mr. Charlton is especially +invited to attend." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe I'll be there. You can't sometimes 'most always tell. I'm +going to prove I've got nothing against religion by going with you to +help gather the pulpit decorations." +</P> + +<P> +"That's very self-sacrificing of you." She flashed a look of gay +derision at him as he joined her. "Sure you can afford to waste so +much time?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't call it wasted. But since you've invited me so hearty to your +picnic, I'd like to be sure you've got grub enough in the chuck wagon +for two," he said with a glance at her saddle-bags. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm not sure. Maybe you had better not come." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I'm coming if you starve me. Say, Beulah, have you heard about +Jess Tighe?" +</P> + +<P> +"What about him?" +</P> + +<P> +"He had a stroke last night. Doc Spindler thinks he won't live more +than a few hours." +</P> + +<P> +Beulah mused over that for a few moments without answer. She had no +liking for the man, but it is the way of youth to be shocked at the +approach of death. Yet she knew this would help to clear up the +situation. With the evil influence of Tighe removed, there would be a +chance for the park to develop along more wholesome lines. He had been +like a sinister shadow that keeps away the sunlight. +</P> + +<P> +She drew a deep breath. "I don't wish him any harm. But it will be a +good thing for all of us when he can't make us more sorrow and trouble." +</P> + +<P> +"He never made me any," Charlton answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't he?" She looked steadily across at him. "You can't tell me he +didn't plan that express robbery, for instance." +</P> + +<P> +"Meaning that I was in the party that pulled it off?" he asked, +flushing. +</P> + +<P> +"I know well enough you were in it—knew it all along. It's the sort +of thing you couldn't keep out of." +</P> + +<P> +"How about Ned? Do you reckon he could keep out of it?" She detected +rising anger beneath his controlled voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Not with you leading him on." Her eyes poured scorn on him. "And I'm +sure he would appreciate your loyalty in telling me he was in it." +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you jump on me, then?" he demanded sulkily. "And I didn't say +Ned was in that hold-up—any more than I admit having been in it +myself. Are you trying to make trouble with me? Is that it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care whether I make trouble with you or not. I'm not going to +pretend and make-believe, if that's what you want. I don't have to do +it." +</P> + +<P> +"I see you don't," he retorted bluntly. "I suppose you don't have to +mind your own business either." +</P> + +<P> +"It is my business when Ned follows you into robbery." +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe I followed him," he jeered. +</P> + +<P> +She bit back the tart answer on her tongue. What was the use of +quarreling? It used to be that they were good friends, but of late +they jangled whenever they met. Ever since the Western Express affair +she had held a grudge at him. Six months ago she had almost promised +to marry him. Now nothing was farther from her thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +But he was still very much of the mind that she should. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter with you, Boots?" he wanted to know roughly. "You +used to have some sense. You weren't always flying out at a fellow. +Now there's no way of pleasing you." +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose it is odd that I don't want my friends to be thieves," she +flung out bitterly. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't use that word if you mean me," he ordered. +</P> + +<P> +"What word shall I substitute?" +</P> + +<P> +He barely suppressed an oath. "I know what's ailing you? We're not +smooth enough up here for you. We're not educated up to your standard. +If I'd been to Cornell, say—" +</P> + +<P> +"Take care," she warned with a flash of anger in her black eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I don't know. Why should I cull my words so careful? I notice +yours ain't hand-picked. Ever since this guy Beaudry came spying into +the park, you've had no use for me. You have been throwing yourself at +his head and couldn't see any one else." +</P> + +<P> +She gasped. "How dare you, Brad Charlton?" +</P> + +<P> +His jealousy swept away the prudence that had dammed his anger. +"Didn't you take him out driving? Didn't you spend a night alone with +him and Dave Dingwell? Didn't you hot-foot it down to Hart's because +you was afraid yore precious spy would meet up with what he deserved?" +</P> + +<P> +Beulah drew up Blacky abruptly. "Now you can leave me. Don't stop to +say good-bye. I hate you. I don't ever want to see you again." +</P> + +<P> +He had gone too far and he knew it. Sulkily he began to make his +apology. "You know how fond I am of you, Boots. You know—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I ought to. I've heard it often enough," she interrupted curtly. +"That's probably why you insult me?" +</P> + +<P> +Her gypsy eyes stabbed him. She was furiously angry. He attempted to +explain. "Now, listen here, Beulah. Let's be reasonable." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going up or down?" she demanded. "I'm going the other way. +Take one road or the other, you—you scandalmonger." +</P> + +<P> +Never a patient man, he too gave rein to his anger. "Since you want to +know, I'm going down—to Battle Butte, where I'll likely meet yore +friend Beaudry and settle an account or two with him. I reckon before +I git through with him he'll yell something besides Cornell." +</P> + +<P> +The girl laughed scornfully. "Last time I saw him he had just beaten a +dozen or so of you. How many friends are you going to take along this +trip?" +</P> + +<P> +Already her horse was taking the trail. She called the insult down to +him over her shoulder. But before she had gone a half-mile her eyes +were blind with tears. Why did she get so angry? Why did she say such +things? Other girls were ladylike and soft-spoken. Was there a streak +of commonness in her that made possible such a scene as she had just +gone through? In her heart she longed to be a lady—gentle, refined, +sweet of spirit. Instead of which she was a bad-tempered tomboy. +"Miss Spitfire" her brothers sometimes called her, and she knew the +name was justified. +</P> + +<P> +Take this quarrel now with Brad. She had had no intention of breaking +with him in that fashion. Why couldn't she dismiss a lover as girls in +books do, in such a way as to keep him for a friend? She had not +meant, anyhow, to bring the matter to issue to-day. One moment they +had been apparently the best of comrades. The next they had been +saying hateful things to each other. What he had said was +unforgivable, but she had begun by accusing him of complicity in the +train robbery. Knowing how arrogant he was, she might have guessed how +angry criticism would make him. +</P> + +<P> +Yet she was conscious of a relief that it was over with at last. +Charlton was proud. He would leave her alone unless she called him to +her side. Her tears were for the humiliating way in which they had +wrenched apart rather than for the fact of the break. +</P> + +<P> +She knew his temper. Nothing on earth could keep him from flying at +the throat of Roy Beaudry now. Well, she had no interest in either of +them, she reminded herself impatiently. It was none of her business +how they settled their differences. Yet, as Blacky followed the stiff +trail to Big Flat Top, her mind was wretchedly troubled. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah had expected to find her columbines in a gulch back of Big Flat +Top, but the flowers were just past their prime here. The petals fell +fluttering at her touch. She hesitated. Of course, she did not have +to get columbines for the preaching service. Sweet-peas would do very +well. But she was a young woman who did not like to be beaten. She +had plenty of time, and she wanted an excuse to be alone all day. Why +not ride over to Del Oro Creek, where the season was later and the +columbines would be just coming on? +</P> + +<P> +The ayes had it, and presently Miss Rutherford was winding deeper into +the great hills that skirted Flat Top. Far in the gulches, dammed by +the small thick timber, she came on patches of snow upon which the sun +never shone. Once a ptarmigan started from the brush at her feet. An +elk sprang up from behind a log, stared at her, and crashed away +through the fallen timber. +</P> + +<P> +Her devious road took Beulah past a hill flaming with goldenrod and +Indian paint-brushes. A wealth of color decorated every draw, for up +here at the roots of the peaks blossoms rioted in great splashes that +ran to the snowbanks. +</P> + +<P> +After all, she had to go lower for her favorite blooms. On Del Oro she +found columbines, but in no great profusion. She wandered from the +stream, leading Blacky by the bridle. On a hillside just above an +aspen grove the girl came upon scattered clumps of them. Tying the +pony loosely to a clump of bushes, she began to gather the delicate +blue wild flowers. +</P> + +<P> +The blossoms enticed her feet to the edge of a prospect hole long since +abandoned. A clump of them grew from the side of the pit about a foot +below the level of the ground. Beulah reached for them, and at the +same moment the ground caved beneath her feet. She clutched at a bush +in vain as she plunged down. +</P> + +<P> +Jarred by the fall, Beulah lay for a minute in a huddle at the bottom +of the pit. She was not quite sure that no bones were broken. Before +she had time to make certain, a sound brought her rigidly to her feet. +It was a light loose sound like the shaking of dried peas in their +pods. No dweller of the outdoors Southwest could have failed to +recognize it, and none but would have been startled by it. +</P> + +<P> +The girl whipped her revolver from its scabbard and stood pressed +against the rock wall while her eyes searched swiftly the prison into +which she had fallen. Again came that light swift rattle with its +sinister menace. +</P> + +<P> +The enemy lay coiled across the pit from her, head and neck raised, +tongue vibrating. Beulah fired—once—twice—a third time. It was +enough. The rattlesnake ceased writhing. +</P> + +<P> +The first thing she did was to examine every inch of her prison to make +sure there were no more rattlers. Satisfied as to this, she leaned +faintly against the wall. The experience had been a shock even to her +sound young nerves. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XXIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +In the Pit +</H3> + + +<P> +Beulah shut her eyes to steady herself. From the impact of her fall +she was still shaken. Moreover, though she had shot many a +rattlesnake, this was the first time she had ever been flung head first +into the den of one. It would have been easy to faint, but she denied +herself the luxury of it and resolutely fought back the swimming +lightness in her head. +</P> + +<P> +Presently she began to take stock of her situation. The prospect hole +was circular in form, about ten feet across and nine feet deep. The +walls were of rock and smooth clay. Whatever timbering had been left +by the prospector was rotted beyond use. It crumbled at the weight of +her foot. +</P> + +<P> +How was she to get out? Of course, she would find some way, she told +herself. But how? Blacky was tied to a bush not fifty yards away, and +fastened to the saddle horn was the rope that would have solved her +problem quickly enough. If she had it here—But it might as well be at +Cheyenne for all the good it would do her now. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps she could dig footholds in the wall by means of which she could +climb out. Unbuckling the spur from her heel, she used the rowel as a +knife to jab a hole in the clay. After half an hour of persistent work +she looked at the result in dismay. She had gouged a hollow, but it +was not one where her foot could rest while she made steps above. +</P> + +<P> +Every few minutes Beulah stopped work to shout for help. It was not +likely that anybody would be passing. Probably she had been the only +person on this hill for months. But she dared not miss any chance. +</P> + +<P> +For it was coming home to her that she might die of starvation in this +prison long before her people found the place. By morning search +parties would be out over the hills looking for her. But who would +think to find her away over on Del Oro? If Brad had carried out his +threat immediately and gone down to Battle Butte, nobody would know +even the general direction in which to seek. +</P> + +<P> +With every hour Beulah grew more troubled. Late in the afternoon she +fired a fourth shot from her revolver in the hope that some one might +hear the sound and investigate. The sun set early for her. She +watched its rays climb the wall of her prison while she worked +half-heartedly with the spur. After a time the light began to fade, +darkness swept over the land, and she had to keep moving in order not +to chill. +</P> + +<P> +Never had she known such a night. It seemed to the tortured girl that +morning would never come. She counted the stars above her. Sometimes +there were more. Sometimes fewer. After an eternity they began to +fade out in the sky. Day was at hand. +</P> + +<P> +She fired the fifth shot from her revolver. Her voice was hoarse from +shouting, but she called every few minutes. Then, when she was at the +low ebb of hope, there came an answer to her call. She fired her last +shot. She called and shouted again and again. The voice that came +back to her was close at hand. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm down in the prospect hole," she cried. Another moment, and she +was looking up into the face of a man, Dan Meldrum. In vacant +astonishment he gazed down at her. +</P> + +<P> +"Whad you doing here?" he asked roughly. +</P> + +<P> +"I fell in. I've been here all night." Her voice broke a little. +"Oh, I'm so glad you've come." +</P> + +<P> +It was of no importance that he was a man she detested, one who had +quarreled with her father and been thrashed by her brother for +insulting her. All she thought of was that help had come to her at +last and she was now safe. +</P> + +<P> +He stared down at her with a kind of drunken malevolence. +</P> + +<P> +"So you fell in, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Please help me out right away. My riata is tied to Blacky's +saddle." +</P> + +<P> +He looked around. "Where?" +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't Blacky there? He must have broken loose, then. Never mind. +Pass me down the end of a young sapling and you can pull me up." +</P> + +<P> +"Can I?" +</P> + +<P> +For the first time she felt a shock of alarm. There was in his voice +something that chilled her, something inexpressibly cruel. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll see my father rewards you. I'll see you get well paid," she +promised, and the inflection of the words was an entreaty. +</P> + +<P> +"You will, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Anything you want," she hurried on. "Name it. If we can give it to +you, I promise it." +</P> + +<P> +His drunken brain was functioning slowly. This was the girl who had +betrayed him up in Chicito Cañon, the one who had frustrated his +revenge at Hart's. On account of her young Rutherford had given him +the beating of his life and Hal had driven him from Huerfano Park. +First and last she was the rock upon which his fortunes had split. Now +chance had delivered her into his hands. What should he do with her? +How could he safely make the most of the opportunity? +</P> + +<P> +It did not for an instant occur to him to haul her from the pit and +send her rejoicing on the homeward way. He intended to make her pay in +full. But how? How get his revenge and not jeopardize his own safety? +</P> + +<P> +"Won't you hurry, please?" she pleaded. "I'm hungry—and thirsty. +I've been here all night and most of yesterday. It's been … rather +awful." +</P> + +<P> +He rubbed his rough, unshaven cheek while his little pig eyes looked +down into hers. "That so? Well, I dunno as it's any business of mine +where you spend the night or how long you stay there. I had it put up +to me to lay off 'n interfering with you. Seems like yore family got +notions I was insulting you. That young bully Jeff jumped me whilst I +wasn't looking and beat me up. Hal Rutherford ordered me to pull my +freight. That's all right. I won't interfere in what don't concern +me. Yore family says 'Hands off!' Fine. Suits me. Stay there or get +out. It's none of my business. See?" +</P> + +<P> +"You don't mean you'll … leave me here?" she cried in horror. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," he exulted. "If I pulled you out of there, like as not you'd +have me beat up again. None o' my business! That's what yore folks +have been drilling into me. I reckon they're right. Anyhow, I'll play +it safe." +</P> + +<P> +"But—Oh, you can't do that. Even you can't do such a thing," she +cried desperately. "Why, men don't do things like that." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't they? Watch me, missie." He leaned over the pit, his broken, +tobacco-stained teeth showing in an evil grin. "Just keep an eye on +yore Uncle Dan. Nobody ever yet done me a meanness and got away with +it. I reckon the Rutherfords won't be the first. It ain't on the +cyards," he boasted. +</P> + +<P> +"You're going away … to leave me here … to starve?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who said anything about going away? I'll stick around for a while. +It's none of my business whether you starve or live high. Do just as +you please about that. I'll let you alone, like I promised Jeff I +would. You Rutherfords have got no call to object to being starved, +anyhow. <I>Whad you do to Dave Dingwell in Chicito</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +After all, she was only a girl in spite of her little feminine +ferocities and her pride and her gameness. She had passed through a +terrible experience, had come out of it to apparent safety and had been +thrown back into despair. It was natural that sobs should shake her +slender body as she leaned against the quartz wall of her prison and +buried her head in her forearm. +</P> + +<P> +When presently the sobs grew fewer and less violent, Beulah became +aware without looking up that her tormentor had taken away his +malignant presence. This was at first a relief, but as the hours +passed an acute fear seized her. Had he left her alone to die? In +spite of her knowledge of the man, she had clung to the hope that he +would relent. But if he had gone— +</P> + +<P> +She began again to call at short intervals for help. Sometimes tears +of self-pity choked her voice. More than once she beat her brown fists +against the rock in an ecstasy of terror. +</P> + +<P> +Then again he was looking down at her, a hulk of venom, eyes bleared +with the liquor he had been drinking. +</P> + +<P> +"Were you calling me, missie?" he jeered. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me out," she demanded. "When my brothers find me—" +</P> + +<P> +"If they find you," he corrected with a hiccough. +</P> + +<P> +"They'll find me. By this time everybody in Huerfano Park is searching +for me. Before night half of Battle Butte will be in the saddle. +Well, when they find me, do you think you won't be punished for this?" +</P> + +<P> +"For what?" demanded the man. "You fell in. I haven't touched you." +</P> + +<P> +"Will that help you, do you think?" +</P> + +<P> +His rage broke into speech. "You're aimin' to stop my clock, are you? +Take another guess, you mischief-making vixen. What's to prevent me +from emptying my forty-four into you when I get good and ready, then +hitting the trail for Mexico?" +</P> + +<P> +She knew he was speaking the thoughts that had been drifting through +his mind in whiskey-lit ruminations. That he was a wanton killer she +had always heard. If he could persuade himself it could be done with +safety, he would not hesitate to make an end of her. +</P> + +<P> +This was the sort of danger she could fight against—and she did. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll tell you what's to prevent you," she flung back, as it were in a +kind of careless scorn. "Your fondness for your worthless hide. If +they find me shot to death, they will know who did it. You couldn't +hide deep enough in Chihuahua to escape them. My father would never +rest till he had made an end of you." +</P> + +<P> +Her argument sounded appallingly reasonable to him. He knew the +Rutherfords. They would make him pay his debt to them with usury. +</P> + +<P> +To stimulate his mind he took another drink, after which he stared down +at her a long time in sullen, sulky silence. She managed at the same +time to irritate him and tempt him and fill his coward heart with fear +of consequences. Through the back of his brain from the first there +had been filtering thoughts that were like crouching demons. They +reached toward her and drew back in alarm. He was too white-livered to +go through with his villainy boldly. +</P> + +<P> +He recorked the bottle and put it in his hip pocket. "'Nough said," he +blustered. "Me, I'll git on my hawss and be joggin' along to Mex. +I'll take chances on their finding you before you're starved. After +that it won't matter to me when they light on yore body." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, it will," she corrected him promptly, "I'm going to write a +note and tell just what has happened. It will be found beside me in +case they … don't reach here in time." +</P> + +<P> +The veins in his blotched face stood out as he glared down at her while +he adjusted himself to this latest threat. Here, too, she had him. He +had gone too far. Dead or alive, she was a menace to his safety. +</P> + +<P> +Since he must take a chance, why not take a bigger one, why not follow +the instigation of the little crouching devils in his brain? He leered +down at her with what was meant to be an ingratiating smile. +</P> + +<P> +"Sho! What's the use of we 'uns quarreling, Miss Beulah? I ain't got +nothing against you. Old Dan he always liked you fine. I reckon you +didn't know that, did you?" +</P> + +<P> +Her quick glance was in time to catch his face napping. The keen eyes +of the girl pounced on his and dragged from them a glimpse of the +depraved soul of the ruffian. Silently and warily she watched him. +</P> + +<P> +"I done had my little joke, my dear," he went on. "Now we'll be heap +good friends. Old Dan ain't such a bad sort. There's lots of folks +worse than Dan. That's right. Now, what was that you said a while ago +about giving me anything I wanted?" +</P> + +<P> +"I said my father would pay you anything in reason." Her throat was +parched, but her eyes were hard and bright. No lithe young panther of +the forest could have been more alert than she. +</P> + +<P> +"Leave yore dad out of it. He ain't here, and, anyway, I ain't having +any truck with him. Just say the word, Miss Beulah, and I'll git a +pole and haul you up in a jiffy." +</P> + +<P> +Beulah made a mistake. She should have waited till she was out of the +pit before she faced the new issue. But her horror of the man was +overpowering. She unscabbarded swiftly the revolver at her side and +lifted it defiantly toward him. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll stay here." +</P> + +<P> +Again he foamed into rage. The girl had stalemated him once more. +"Then stay, you little wild cat. You've had yore chance. I'm through +with you." He bared his teeth in a snarling grin and turned his back +on her. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah heard him slouching away. Presently there came the sound of a +furiously galloping horse. The drumming of the hoofbeats died in the +distance. +</P> + +<P> +During the rest of the day she saw no more of the man. It swept over +her toward evening in a wave of despair that he had left her to her +fate. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XXIV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Bad Man Decides not to Shoot +</H3> + + +<P> +Beulah woke from a sleep of exhaustion to a world into which the +morning light was just beginning to sift. The cold had penetrated to +her bones. She was stiff and cramped and sore from the pressure of the +rock bed against her tender young flesh. For nearly two days she had +been without food or drink. The urge of life in her was at low tide. +</P> + +<P> +But the traditions among which she had been brought up made pluck a +paramount virtue. She pushed from her the desire to weep in self-pity +over her lot. Though her throat was raw and swollen, she called at +regular intervals during the morning hours while the sun climbed into +view of her ten-foot beat. Even when it rode the heavens a red-hot +cannon ball directly above her, the hoarse and lonely cry of the girl +echoed back from the hillside every few minutes. There were times when +she wanted to throw herself down and give up to despair, but she knew +there would be opportunity for that when she could no longer fight for +her life. The shadow was beginning to climb the eastern wall of the +pit before Beaudry's shout reached her ears faintly. Her first thought +was that she must already be delirious. Not till she saw him at the +edge of the prospect hole was she sure that her rescuer was a reality. +</P> + +<P> +At the first sight of her Roy wanted to trumpet to high heaven the joy +that flooded his heart. He had found her—alive. After the torment of +the night and the worry of the day he had come straight to her in his +wandering, and he had reached her in time. +</P> + +<P> +But when he saw her condition pity welled up in him. Dark hollows had +etched themselves into her cheeks. Tears swam in her eyes. Her lips +trembled weakly from emotion. She leaned against the side of the pit +to support her on account of the sudden faintness that engulfed her +senses. He knelt and stretched his hands toward her, but the pit was +too deep. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have to get a pole or a rope," she told him quietly. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry found the dead trunk of a young sapling and drew the girl up +hand over hand. On the brink she stumbled and he caught her in his +arms to save her from falling back into the prospect hole. +</P> + +<P> +For a moment she lay close to him, heart beating against heart. Then, +with a little sobbing sigh, she relaxed and began to weep. Her tears +tugged at his sympathy, but none the less the pulses pounded in his +veins. He held her tight, with a kind of savage tenderness, while his +body throbbed with the joy of her. She had come to him with the same +sure instinct that brings a child to its mother's arms. All her pride +and disdain and suspicion had melted like summer mists in her need of +the love and comfort he could give her. +</P> + +<P> +"It's all right now. You're safe. Nothing can hurt you," he promised. +</P> + +<P> +"I know, but you don't know—what—what—" She broke off, shuddering. +</P> + +<P> +Still with his arm about her, he led Beulah to his horse. Here he made +her sit down while he gave her water and food. Bit by bit she told him +the story of her experience. He suffered poignantly with her, but he +could not be grateful enough that the finger-tip of destiny had pointed +him to her prison. He thanked his rather vague gods that it had been +his footsteps rather than those of another man that had wandered here +to save her. +</P> + +<P> +What surprised and wholly delighted him was the feminine quality of +her. He had thought of her before as a wild young creature full of +pride and scorn and anger, but with a fine barbaric loyalty that might +yet redeem her from her faults. He had never met a young woman so +hard, so self-reliant. She had asked no odds because of her sex. Now +all this harshness had melted. No strange child could have been more +shy and gentle. She had put herself into his hands and seemed to trust +him utterly. His casual opinions were accepted by her as if they had +been judgments of Solomon. +</P> + +<P> +Roy spread his blankets and put the saddle-bags down for a pillow. +</P> + +<P> +"We're not going to stay here to-night, are we?" she asked, surprised. +</P> + +<P> +He smiled. "No, you're going to lie down and sleep for an hour. When +you wake, supper will be ready. You're all in now, but with a little +rest you will be fit to travel." +</P> + +<P> +"You won't go away while I sleep," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think it likely? No, you can't get rid of me that easy. I'm a +regular adhesive plaster for sticking." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want to get rid of you," she answered naïvely. "I'd be afraid +without you. Will you promise to stay close all the time I sleep?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"I know I won't sleep, but if you want me to try—" +</P> + +<P> +"I do." +</P> + +<P> +She snuggled down into the blankets and was asleep in five minutes. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry watched her with hungry eyes. What was the use of denying to +himself that he loved her? If he had not known it before, the past +half-hour had made it clear to him. With those wan shadows below her +long eye-lashes and that charming manner of shy dependence upon him, +she was infinitely more attractive to him than she had ever been before. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah Rutherford was not the kind of girl he had thought of as a +sweetheart in his daydreams. His fancies had hovered hazily about some +imaginary college girl, one skilled in the finesse of the rules that +society teaches young women in self-defense. Instead, he had fallen in +love with a girl who could not play the social game at all. She was +almost the only one he had known who never used any perfume; yet her +atmosphere was fragrant as one of the young pines in her own mountain +park. The young school-teacher was vital, passionate, and—he +suspected—fiercely tender. For her lover there would be rare gifts in +her eyes, wonderful largesse in her smile. The man who could qualify +as her husband must be clean and four-square and game from the soles of +his feet up—such a man as Dave Dingwell, except that the cattleman was +ten years too old for her. +</P> + +<P> +Her husband! What was he thinking about? Roy brought his bolting +thoughts up with a round turn. There could be no question of marriage +between her father's daughter and his father's son. Hal Rutherford had +put that out of doubt on the day when he had ridden to the Elephant +Corral to murder Sheriff Beaudry. No decent man could marry the +daughter of the man who had killed his father in cold blood. Out of +such a wedding could come only sorrow and tragedy. +</P> + +<P> +And if this were not bar enough between them, there was another. +Beulah Rutherford could never marry a man who was a physical coward. +It was a dear joy to his soul that she had broken down and wept and +clung to him. But this was the sex privilege of even a brave woman. A +man had to face danger with a nerve of tested iron, and that was a +thing he could never do. +</P> + +<P> +Roy was stretched on the moss face down, his chin resting on the two +cupped palms of his hands. Suddenly he sat up, every nerve tense and +alert. Silently he got to his feet and stole down into the aspen +grove. With great caution he worked his way into the grove and peered +through to the hillside beyond. A man was standing by the edge of the +prospect hole. He was looking down into it. Young Beaudry recognized +the heavy, slouch figure at the first glance. +</P> + +<P> +Not for an instant did he hesitate about what he meant to do. The hour +had come when he and Dan Meldrum must have an accounting. From its +holster he drew his revolver and crept forward toward the bad man. His +eyes were cold and hard as chilled steel. He moved with the long, soft +stride of a panther crouched for the kill. Not till the whole thing +was over did he remember that for once the ghost of fear had been +driven from his soul. He thought only of the wrongs of Beulah +Rutherford, the girl who had fallen asleep in the absolute trust that +he would guard her from all danger. This scoundrel had given her two +days of living hell. Roy swore to pay the fellow in full. +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum turned. He recognized Beaudry with a snarl of rage and terror. +Except one of the Rutherfords there was no man on earth he less wanted +to meet. The forty-four in his hand jerked up convulsively. The +miscreant was in two minds whether to let fly or wait. +</P> + +<P> +Roy did not even falter in his stride. He did not raise the weapon in +his loosely hanging hand. His eyes bored as steadily as gimlets into +the craven heart of the outlaw. +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum, in a panic, warned him back. His nerve was gone. For two +days he had been drinking hard, but the liquor had given out at +midnight. He needed a bracer badly. This was no time for him to go +through with a finish fight against such a man as Beaudry. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep yore distance and tell me what you want," the ex-convict repeated +hoarsely. "If you don't, I'll gun you sure." +</P> + +<P> +The young cattleman stopped about five yards from him. He knew exactly +what terms he meant to give the enemy. +</P> + +<P> +"Put your gun up," he ordered sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind who is with me. I can play this hand alone. Put up that +gun and then we'll talk." +</P> + +<P> +That suited Meldrum. If it was a question of explanations, perhaps he +could whine his way out of this. What he had been afraid of was +immediate battle. One cannot talk bullets aside. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly he pushed his revolver into its holster, but the hand of the man +rested still on the butt. +</P> + +<P> +"I came back to help Miss Rutherford out of this prospect hole," he +whimperingly complained. "When onc't I got sober, I done recalled that +she was here. So I hit the trail back." +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum spoke the exact truth. When the liquor was out of him, he +became frightened at what he had done. He had visions of New Mexico +hunting him down like a wild dog. At last, unable to stand it any +longer, he had come back to free her. +</P> + +<P> +"That's good. Saves me the trouble of looking for you. I'm going to +give you a choice. You and I can settle this thing with guns right +here and now. That's one way out for you. I'll kill you where you +stand." +</P> + +<P> +"W—what's the other way?" stammered the outlaw. +</P> + +<P> +"The other way is for you to jump into that prospect hole. I'll ride +away and leave you there to starve." +</P> + +<P> +"Goddlemighty! You wouldn't do that," Meldrum wheedled. "I didn't go +for to hurt Miss Rutherford any. Didn't I tell you I was drunk?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dead or alive, you're going into that prospect hole. Make up your +mind to that." +</P> + +<P> +The bad man moistened his dry lips with the tip of his tongue. He +stole one furtive glance around. Could he gun this man and make his +getaway? +</P> + +<P> +"Are any of the Rutherfords back of that clump of aspens?" he asked in +a hoarse whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Do … do they know I'm here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not yet." +</P> + +<P> +Tiny beads of sweat stood out on the blotched face of the rustler. He +was trapped. Even if he fired through the leather holster and killed +Beaudry, there would be no escape for him on his tired horse. +</P> + +<P> +"Gimme a chanc't," he pleaded desperately. "Honest to God, I'll clear +out of the country for good. I'll quit belling around and live decent. +I'll—" +</P> + +<P> +"You'll go into the pit." +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum knew as he looked into that white, set face that he had come to +his day of judgment. But he mumbled a last appeal. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm an old man, Mr. Beaudry. I ain't got many years—" +</P> + +<P> +"Have you made your choice?" cut in Roy coldly. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd do anything you say—go anywhere—give my Bible oath never to come +back." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps I'd better call Rutherford." +</P> + +<P> +The bad man made a trembling clutch toward him. "Don't you, Mr. +Beaudry. I'll—I'll go into the pit," he sobbed. +</P> + +<P> +"Get in, then." +</P> + +<P> +"I know you wouldn't leave me there to starve. That would be an awful +thing to do," the killer begged. +</P> + +<P> +"You're finding that out late. It didn't worry you when Dave Dingwell +was being starved." +</P> + +<P> +"I hadn't a thing to do with that—not a thing, Mr. Beaudry. Hal +Rutherford, he give the order and it was up to me to go through. +Honest, that was the way of it." +</P> + +<P> +"And you could starve a girl who needed your help. That was all right, +of course." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Beaudry, I—I was only learning her a lesson—just kinder playing, +y' understand. Why, I've knowed Miss Beulah ever since she was a +little bit of a trick. I wouldn't do her a meanness. It ain't +reasonable, now, is it?" +</P> + +<P> +The man fawned on Roy. His hands were shaking with fear. If it would +have done any good, he would have fallen on his knees and wept. The +sight of him made Roy sick. Was this the way <I>he</I> looked when the +yellow streak was showing? +</P> + +<P> +"Jump into that pit," he ordered in disgust. "That is, unless you'd +rather I would call Rutherford." +</P> + +<P> +Meldrum shambled to the edge, sat down, turned, and slid into the +prospect hole. +</P> + +<P> +"I know it's only yore little joke, Mr. Beaudry," he whined. "Mebbe I +ain't jest been neighborly with you-all, but what I say is let bygones +be bygones. I'm right sorry. I'll go down with you to Battle Butte +and tell the boys I done wrong." +</P> + +<P> +"No, you'll stay here." +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry turned away. The muffled scream of the bad man followed him as +far as the aspens. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XXV +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Two and a Camp-Fire +</H3> + + +<P> +Roy worked his way through the aspens and returned to the place where +he had left Beulah. She was still sleeping soundly and did not stir at +his approach. Quietly he built a fire and heated water for coffee. +From his saddlebags he took sandwiches wrapped in a newspaper. Beside +the girl he put his canteen, a pocket comb, a piece of soap, and the +bandanna he wore around his neck. Then, reluctantly, he awakened her. +</P> + +<P> +"Supper will be served in just five minutes," he announced with a smile. +</P> + +<P> +She glanced at the scant toilet facilities and nodded her head +decisively. "Thank you, kind sir. I'll be on hand." +</P> + +<P> +The young woman rose, glanced in the direction of the aspens, gathered +up the supplies, and fled to the grove. The eyes of Beaudry followed +her flight. The hour of sleep had been enough to restore her +resilience. She moved with the strong lightness that always reminded +him of wild woodland creatures. +</P> + +<P> +In spite of her promise Beulah was away beyond the time limit. Beaudry +became a little uneasy. It was not possible, of course, that Meldrum +could have escaped from the pit. And yet— +</P> + +<P> +He called to her. "Is every little thing all right, neighbor?" +</P> + +<P> +"All right," she answered. +</P> + +<P> +A moment later she emerged from the aspens and came toward the camp. +She was panting a little, as if she had been running. +</P> + +<P> +"Quite a hill," he commented. +</P> + +<P> +She gave him a quick glance. There was in it shy curiosity, but her +dark eyes held, too, an emotion more profound. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she said. "It makes one breathe fast." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Rutherford had improved her time. The disorderly locks had been +hairpinned into place. From her face all traces of the dried tears +were washed. Pit clay no longer stained the riding-skirt. +</P> + +<P> +Sandwiches and coffee made their meal, but neither of them had ever +more enjoyed eating. Beulah was still ravenously hungry, though she +restrained her appetite decorously. +</P> + +<P> +"I forgot to tell you that I am lost," he explained. "Unless you can +guide me out of this labyrinth of hills, we'll starve to death." +</P> + +<P> +"I can take you straight to the park." +</P> + +<P> +"But we're not going to the park. Everybody is out looking for you. +We are to follow Del Oro down to the flats. The trouble is that I've +lost Del Oro," he grinned. +</P> + +<P> +"It is just over the hill." +</P> + +<P> +After refreshments he brought up his pinto horse and helped her to the +saddle. She achieved the mount very respectably. With a confidential +little laugh she took him into the secret of her success. +</P> + +<P> +"I've been practicing with dad. He has to help me up every time I go +riding." +</P> + +<P> +They crossed to Del Oro in the dusk and followed the trail by the creek +in the moonlight. In the starlight night her dusky beauty set his +pulses throbbing. The sweet look of her dark-lashed eyes stirred +strange chaos in him. They talked little, for she, too, felt a +delicious emotion singing in the currents of her blood. When their shy +eyes met, it was with a queer little thrill as if they had kissed each +other. +</P> + +<P> +It was late when they reached the flats. There was no sign of +Charlton's party. +</P> + +<P> +"The flats run for miles each way. We might wander all night and not +find them," Beulah mentioned. +</P> + +<P> +"Then we'll camp right here and look for them in the morning," decided +Roy promptly. +</P> + +<P> +Together they built a camp-fire. Roy returned from picketing the horse +to find her sitting on a blanket in the dancing light of the flickering +flames. Her happy, flushed face was like the promise of a summer day +at dawn. +</P> + +<P> +In that immensity of space, with night's million candles far above them +and the great hills at their backs, the walls that were between them +seemed to vanish. +</P> + +<P> +Their talk was intimate and natural. It had the note of comradeship, +took for granted sympathy and understanding. +</P> + +<P> +He showed her the picture of his mother. By the fire glow she studied +it intently. Her eyes brimmed with tears. +</P> + +<P> +"She's so lovely and so sweet—and she had to go away and leave her +little baby when she was so young. I don't wonder you worship her. I +would, too." +</P> + +<P> +Roy did not try to thank her in words. He choked up in his throat and +nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"You can see how fine and dainty she was," the girl went on. "I'd +rather be like that than anything else in the world—and, of course, I +never can be." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know what you mean," he protested warmly. "You're as fine as +they grow." +</P> + +<P> +She smiled, a little wistfully. "Nice of you to say so, but I know +better. I'm not a lady. I'm just a harum-scarum, tempery girl that +grew up in the hills. If I didn't know it, that wouldn't matter. But +I do know it, and so like a little idiot I pity myself because I'm not +like nice girls." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank Heaven, you're not!" he cried. "I've never met a girl fit to +hold a candle to you. Why, you're the freest, bravest, sweetest thing +that ever lived." +</P> + +<P> +The hot blood burned slowly into her cheek under its dusky coloring. +His words were music to her, and yet they did not satisfy. +</P> + +<P> +"You're wrapping it up nicely, but we both know that I'm a vixen when I +get angry," she said quietly. "We used to have an old Indian woman +work for us. When I was just a wee bit of a thing she called me Little +Cactus Tongue." +</P> + +<P> +"That's nothing. The boys were probably always teasing you and you +defended yourself. In a way the life you have led has made you hard. +But it is just a surface hardness nature has provided as a protection +to you." +</P> + +<P> +"Since it is there, I don't see that it helps much to decide why it is +a part of me," she returned with a wan little smile. +</P> + +<P> +"But it does," he insisted. "It matters a lot. The point is that it +isn't you at all. Some day you'll slough it the way a butterfly does +its shell." +</P> + +<P> +"When?" she wanted to know incredulously. +</P> + +<P> +He did not look at her while he blurted out his answer. "When you are +happily married to a man you love who loves you." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I'm afraid that will be never." She tried to say it lightly, but +her face glowed from the heat of an inward fire. +</P> + +<P> +"There's a deep truth in the story of the princess who slept the years +away until the prince came along and touched her lips with his. Don't +you think lots of people are hampered by their environment? All they +need is escape." He suggested this with a shy diffidence. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, we all make that excuse for ourselves," she answered with a touch +of impatient scorn. "I'm all the time doing it. I say if things were +different I would be a nice, sweet-tempered, gentle girl and not fly +out like that Katherine in Shakespeare's play. But I know all the time +it isn't true. We have to conquer ourselves. There is no city of +refuge from our own temperaments." +</P> + +<P> +He felt sure there was a way out from her fretted life for this +deep-breasted, supple daughter of the hills if she could only find it. +She had breathed an atmosphere that made for suspicion and harshness. +All her years she had been forced to fight to save herself from shame. +But Roy, as he looked at her, imaged another picture of Beulah +Rutherford. Little children clung to her knees and called her +"Mother." She bent over them tenderly, her face irradiated with love. +A man whose features would not come clear strode toward her and the +eyes she lifted to his were pools of light. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry drew a deep breath and looked away from her into the fire. "I +wish time would solve my problem as surely as it will yours," he said. +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him eagerly, lips parted, but she would not in words +invite his confession. +</P> + +<P> +The young man shaded his eyes with his hand as if to screen them from +the fire, but she noticed that the back of his hand hid them from her, +too. He found a difficulty in beginning. When at last he spoke, his +voice was rough with feeling. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, you'll despise me—you of all people. How could you help +it?" +</P> + +<P> +Her body leaned toward him ever so slightly. Love lit her face like a +soft light. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I? How do you know?" +</P> + +<P> +"It cuts so deep—goes to the bottom of things. If a fellow is wild or +even bad, he may redeem himself. But you can't make a man out of a +yellow cur. The stuff isn't there." The words came out jerkily as if +with some physical difficulty. +</P> + +<P> +"If you mean about coming up to the park, I know about that," she said +gently. "Mr. Dingwell told father. I think it was splendid of you." +</P> + +<P> +"No, that isn't it. I knew I was right in coming and that some day you +would understand." He dropped the hand from his face and looked +straight at her. "Dave didn't tell your father that I had to be +flogged into going, did he? He didn't tell him that I tried to dodge +out of it with excuses." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course, you weren't anxious to throw up your own affairs and run +into danger for a man you had never met. Why should you be wild for +the chance. But you went." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I went. I had to go. Ryan put it up to me so that there was no +escape," was his dogged, almost defiant, answer. +</P> + +<P> +"I know better," the girl corrected quickly. "You put it up to +yourself. You're that way." +</P> + +<P> +"Am I?" He flashed a questioning look at her. "Then, since you know +that, perhaps you know, too, what—what I'm trying to tell you." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps I do," she whispered softly to the fire. +</P> + +<P> +There was panic in his eyes. "—That … that I—" +</P> + +<P> +"—That you are sensitive and have a good deal of imagination," the +girl concluded gently. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I'll not feed my vanity with pleasant lies to-night." He gave a +little gesture of self-scorn as he rose to throw some dry sticks on the +fire. "What I mean and what you mean is that—that I'm an arrant +coward." Roy gulped the last words out as if they burned his throat. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't mean that at all," she flamed. "How can you say such a thing +about yourself when everybody knows that you're the bravest man in +Washington County?" +</P> + +<P> +"No—no. I'm a born trembler." From where he stood beyond the fire he +looked across at her with dumb anguish in his eyes. "You say yourself +you've noticed it. Probably everybody that knows me has." +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't say that." Her dark eyes challenged his very steadily. +"What I said was that you have too much imagination to rush into danger +recklessly. You picture it all out vividly beforehand and it worries +you. Isn't that the way of it?" +</P> + +<P> +He nodded, ashamed. +</P> + +<P> +"But when the time comes, nobody could be braver than you," she went +on. "You've been tried out a dozen times in the last three months. +You have always made good." +</P> + +<P> +"Made good! If you only knew!" he answered bitterly. +</P> + +<P> +"Knew what? I saw you down at Hart's when Dan Meldrum ordered you to +kneel and beg. But you gamed it out, though you knew he meant to kill +you." +</P> + +<P> +He flushed beneath the tan. "I was too paralyzed to move. That's the +simple truth." +</P> + +<P> +"Were you too paralyzed to move down at the arcade of the Silver +Dollar?" she flashed at him. +</P> + +<P> +"It was the drink in me. I wasn't used to it and it went to my head." +</P> + +<P> +"Had you been drinking that time at the depot?" she asked with a touch +of friendly irony. +</P> + +<P> +"That wasn't courage. If it would have saved me, I would have run like +a rabbit. But there was no chance. The only hope I had was to throw a +fear into him. But all the time I was sick with terror." +</P> + +<P> +She rose and walked round the camp-fire to him. Her eyes were shining +with a warm light of admiration. Both hands went out to him +impulsively. +</P> + +<P> +"My friend, that is the only kind of courage really worth having. That +kind you earn. It is yours because it is born of the spirit. You have +fought for it against the weakness of the flesh and the timidity of +your own soul. Some men are born without sense or imagination. They +don't know enough to be afraid. But the man who tramples down a great +fear wins his courage by earning it." She laughed a little, to make +light of her own enthusiasm. "Oh, I know I'm preaching like a little +prig. But it's the truth, just the same." +</P> + +<P> +At the touch of her fingers his pulses throbbed. But once more he +tried to make her understand. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I've had luck all the way through. Do you remember that night at +the cabin—before we went up the cañon?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Some one shot at me as I ran into the cabin. I was so frightened that +I piled all the furniture against the door and hid in the cellar. It +was always that way with me. I used to jump if anybody rode up +unexpectedly at the ranch. Every little thing set my nerves +fluttering." +</P> + +<P> +"But it isn't so now." +</P> + +<P> +"No, not so much." +</P> + +<P> +"That's what I'm telling you," she triumphed. "You came out here from +a soft life in town. But you've grown tough because you set your teeth +to go through no matter what the cost. I wish I could show you how +much I … admire you. Dad feels that way, too. So does Ned." +</P> + +<P> +"But I don't deserve it. That's what humiliates me." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you?" She poured out her passionate protest. "Do you think I +don't know what happened back there at the prospect hole? Do you think +I don't know that you put Dan Meldrum down in the pit—and him with a +gun in his hand? Was it a coward that did that?" +</P> + +<P> +"So you knew that all the time," he cried. +</P> + +<P> +"I heard him calling you—and I went close. Yes, I knew it. But you +would never have told me because it might seem like bragging." +</P> + +<P> +"It was easy enough. I wasn't thinking of myself, but of you. He saw +I meant business and he wilted." +</P> + +<P> +"You were thinking about me—and you forgot to be afraid," the girl +exulted. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that was it." A wave of happiness broke over his heart as the +sunlight does across a valley at dawn. "I'm always thinking of you. +Day and night you fill my thoughts, hillgirl. When I'm riding the +range—whatever I do—you're with me all the time." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +Her lips were slightly parted, eyes eager and hungry. The heart of the +girl drank in his words as the thirsty roots of a rosebush do water. +She took a long deep breath and began to tremble. +</P> + +<P> +"I think of you as the daughter of the sun and the wind. Some day you +will be the mother of heroes, the wife of a man—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she prompted again, and the face lifted to his was flushed with +innocent passion. +</P> + +<P> +The shy invitation of her dark-lashed eyes was not to be denied. He +flung away discretion and snatched her into his arms. An inarticulate +little sound welled up from her throat, and with a gesture wholly +savage and feminine her firm arms crept about his neck and fastened +there. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XXVI +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Sins of the Fathers +</H3> + + +<P> +They spoke at first only in that lovers' Esperanto which is made up of +fond kisses and low murmurs and soft caresses. From these Beulah was +the first to emerge. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you marry a girl off the range?" she whispered. "Would you dare +take her home to your people?" +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't any people. There are none of them left but me." +</P> + +<P> +"To your friends, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"My friends will be proud as punch. They'll wonder how I ever +hypnotized you into caring for me." +</P> + +<P> +"But I'm only a hillgirl," she protested. "Are you sure you won't be +ashamed of me, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certain sure. I'm a very sensible chap at bottom, and I know when I +have the best there is." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, you think that now because—" +</P> + +<P> +"Because of my golden luck in winning the most wonderful girl I ever +met." In the fling of the fire glow he made a discovery and kissed it. +"I didn't know before that you had dimples." +</P> + +<P> +"There are lots of things you don't know about me. Some of them you +won't like. But if you love me, perhaps you'll forgive them, and +then—because I love you—maybe I'll grow out of them. I feel to-night +as if anything were possible. The most wonderful thing that ever +happened to me has come into my life." +</P> + +<P> +"My heart is saying that, too, sweetheart." +</P> + +<P> +"I love to hear you say that I'm—nice," she confided. "Because, you +know, lots of people don't think so. The best people in Battle Butte +won't have anything to do with me. I'm one of the Rutherford gang." +</P> + +<P> +The light was full on his face, so that she saw the dawning horror in +his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it? What are you thinking?" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +He gave a little groan and his hands fell slackly from her. "I'd +forgotten." The words came in a whisper, as if he spoke to himself +rather than to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Forgotten what?" she echoed; and like a flash added: "That I'm a +Rutherford. Is that what you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"That you are the daughter of Hal Rutherford and that I'm the son of +John Beaudry." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean that you would be ashamed to marry a Rutherford," she said, +her face white in the fire glow. +</P> + +<P> +"No." He brushed her challenge aside and went straight to what was in +his mind. "I'm thinking of what happened seventeen years ago," he +answered miserably. +</P> + +<P> +"What did happen that could come between you and me to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +"Have you forgotten, too?" He turned to the fire with a deep breath +that was half a sob. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it? Tell me," she demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Your father killed mine at Battle Butte." +</P> + +<P> +A shiver ran through her lithe, straight body. "No … No! Say it +isn't true, Roy." +</P> + +<P> +"It's true. I was there … Didn't they ever tell you about it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I've heard about the fight when Sheriff Beaudry was killed. Jess +Tighe had his spine injured in it. But I never knew that dad … +You're sure of it?" she flung at him. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. He led the attackers. I suppose he thought of it as a feud. My +father had killed one of his people in a gun fight." +</P> + +<P> +She, too, looked into the fire. It was a long time before she spoke, +and then in a small, lifeless voice. "I suppose you … hate me." +</P> + +<P> +"Hate you!" His voice shook with agitation. "That would make +everything easy. But—there is no other woman in the world for me but +you." +</P> + +<P> +Almost savagely she turned toward him. "Do you mean that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I never mean anything so much." +</P> + +<P> +"Then what does it matter about our fathers? We have our own lives to +live. If we've found happiness we've a right to it. What happened +seventeen years ago can't touch us—not unless we let it." +</P> + +<P> +White-lipped, drear-eyed, Roy faced her hopelessly. "I never thought +of it before, but it is true what the Bible says about the sins of the +fathers. How can I shake hands in friendship with the man who killed +mine? Would it be loyal or decent to go into his family and make him +my father by marrying his daughter?" +</P> + +<P> +Beulah stood close to him, her eyes burning into his. She was ready to +fight for her love to a finish. "Do you think I'm going to give you up +now … now … just when we've found out how much we care … +because of any reason under heaven outside ourselves? <I>By God</I>, no! +That's a solemn oath, Roy Beaudry. I'll not let you go." +</P> + +<P> +He did not argue with her. Instead, he began to tell her of his father +and his mother. As well as he could remember it he related to her the +story of that last ride he had taken with John Beaudry. The girl found +herself visioning the pathetic tenderness of the father singing the +"li'l'-ole-hawss" song under the stars of their night camp. There +flashed to her a picture of him making his stand in the stable against +the flood of enemies pouring toward him. +</P> + +<P> +When Roy had finished, she spoke softly. "I'm glad you told me. I +know now the kind of man your father was. He loved you more than his +own life. He was brave and generous and kind. Do you think he would +have nursed a grudge for seventeen years? Do you think he would have +asked you to give up your happiness to carry on a feud that ought never +to have been?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, but—" +</P> + +<P> +"You are going to marry me, not Hal Rutherford. He is a good man now, +however wild he may have been once. But you needn't believe that just +because I say so. Wait and see. Be to him just as much or as little +as you like. He'll understand, and so shall I. My people are proud. +They won't ask more of you than you care to give. All they'll ask is +that you love me—and that's all I ask, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"All you ask now, but later you will be unhappy because there is a gulf +between your father and me. You will try to hide it, but I'll know." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll have to take my chance of that," she told him. "I don't suppose +that life even with the man you love is all happiness. But it is what +I want. It's what I'm not going to let your scruples rob me of." +</P> + +<P> +She spoke with a low-voiced, passionate intensity. The hillgirl was +fighting to hold her lover as a creature of the woods does to protect +its young. So long as she was sure that he loved her, nothing on earth +should come between them. For the moment she was absorbed by the +primitive idea that he belonged to her and she to him. All the vital +young strength in her rose to repel separation. +</P> + +<P> +Roy, yearning to take into his arms this dusky, brown-cheeked +sweetheart of his, became aware that he did not want her to let his +arguments persuade her. The fierce, tender egoism of her love filled +him with exultant pride. +</P> + +<P> +He snatched her to him and held her tight while his lips found her hot +cheeks, her eager eyes, her more than willing mouth. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XXVII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Quicksands +</H3> + + +<P> +Beulah was too perfect of body, too sound of health, not to revel in +such a dawn as swept across the flats next morning. The sun caressed +her throat, her bare head, the uplifted face. As the tender light of +daybreak was in the hills, so there was a lilt in her heart that found +expression in her voice, her buoyant footsteps, and the shine of her +eyes. She had slept soundly in Beaudry's blankets while he had lain +down in his slicker on the other side of the fire. Already she was +quite herself again. The hours of agony in the pit were obliterated. +Life was a wholly joyous and beautiful adventure. +</P> + +<P> +She turned back to the camp where Roy was making coffee. +</P> + +<P> +"Am I not to do any of the work?" +</P> + +<P> +At the sound of that deep, sweet voice with its hint of a drawl the +young man looked up and smiled. "Not a bit. All you have to do is to +drink my coffee and say I'm the best cook you know." +</P> + +<P> +After they had drunk the coffee and finished the sandwiches, Roy +saddled. +</P> + +<P> +"They're probably over to the left. Don't you think so?" Beaudry +suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +There drifted to them the sound of two shots fired in rapid succession. +</P> + +<P> +Roy fired twice in answer. They moved in the direction of the +shooting. Again the breeze brought revolver shots. This time there +were three of them. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry bad an odd feeling that this was a call for help from somebody +in difficulties. He quickened their pace. The nature of the ground, a +good deal of which was deep sand, made fast travel impossible. +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" Beulah pointed forward and to the right. +</P> + +<P> +At the same moment there came a shout. "Help! I'm in the quicksands." +</P> + +<P> +They made out the figure of a man buried to his waist in the dry wash +of a creek. A horse stood on the farther bank of the wash. Roy +deflected toward the man, Beulah at his heels. +</P> + +<P> +"He must be caught in Dead Man's Sink," the girl explained. "I've +never seen it, but I know it is somewhere near here. All my life I've +heard of it. Two Norwegians were caught here five years ago. Before +help reached them, they were lost." +</P> + +<P> +"Get me a rope—quick," the man in the sand called. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, it's Brad," cried Beulah. +</P> + +<P> +"Yep. Saw the smoke of yore fire and got caught trying to reach you. +Can't make it alone. Thought I sure was a goner. You'll have to +hurry." +</P> + +<P> +Already Roy was taking the riata from its place below the saddle-horn. +From the edge of the wash he made a cast toward the man in the +quicksands. The loop fell short. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll have to get into the bed of the stream," suggested Beulah. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry moved across the sand a few steps and tried again. The +distance was still too great. +</P> + +<P> +Already he was beginning to bog down. The soles of his shoes +disappeared in the treacherous sand. When he moved it seemed to him +that some monster was sucking at him from below. As he dragged his +feet from the sand the sunken tracks filled with mud. He felt the +quiver of the river-bed trembling at his weight. +</P> + +<P> +Roy turned to Beulah, the old familiar cold chill traveling up his +spine to the roots of his hair. "It won't bear me up. I'm going +down," he quavered. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me go, then. I'm lighter," she said eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +She made the proposal in all good faith, with no thought of reflecting +on his courage, but it stung her lover like a slap in the face. +</P> + +<P> +"Hurry with that rope!" Charlton sang across. "I'm sinking fast." +</P> + +<P> +"Is there any way for Miss Rutherford to get over to your horse?" asked +Roy quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"She can cross the wash two hundred yards below here. It's perfectly +safe." +</P> + +<P> +As Roy plunged forward, he gave Beulah orders without turning his head. +"You hear, dear. Run down and get across. But go over very carefully. +If you come to a bad place, go back at once. When you get over tie +Charlton's rope to his saddle-horn and throw him the looped end. The +horse will drag him out." +</P> + +<P> +The young woman was off on the run before he had half finished. +</P> + +<P> +Once more Roy coiled and threw the rope. Charlton caught the loop, +slipped it over his head, and tightened it under his arms. +</P> + +<P> +"All right. Pull!" he ordered. +</P> + +<P> +Beaudry had no footing to brace himself. Already he was ankle-deep in +the quicksand. It flashed across his mind that he could not fight his +own way out without abandoning Charlton. For one panicky moment he was +mad to get back to solid ground himself. The next he was tugging with +all the strength of his arms at the rope. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep on the job!" encouraged Charlton. "You're pulling my body over a +little so that the weight is on new sand. If Beulah gets here in time, +I'll make it." +</P> + +<P> +Roy pulled till his muscles ached. His own feet were sliding slowly +from under him. The water-bubbles that oozed out of the sand were now +almost at his high boot-tops. It was too late to think of retreat. He +must go through whether he wanted to or not. +</P> + +<P> +He cast one look down the dry river-bed. Beulah was just picking her +way across. She might get over in time to save Charlton, but before +they made it back across to him, he would be lost. +</P> + +<P> +He wanted to scream aloud to her his urgent need, to beg her, for +Heaven's sake, to hurry. The futility of it he knew. She was already +running with the knowledge to wing her feet that a man's life hung in +the balance. Besides, Charlton was not shrieking his fears out. He +was calling cheerful words of hope across the quaking morass of sand +that separated them. There was no use in making a gibbering idiot of +one's self. Beaudry clenched his jaws tight on the cries that rose +like a thermometer of terror in his throat. +</P> + +<P> +With every ounce of strength that was in him he fought, meanwhile, for +the life of the man at the other end of the rope. Before Beulah +reached Charlton, Roy was in deeper than his knees. He shut his eyes +and pulled like a machine. It seemed an eternity before Charlton +called to him to let go the rope. +</P> + +<P> +A new phase of his danger seared like a flame across the brain of +Beaudry. He had dragged himself from a perpendicular position. As +soon as he let loose of the rope he would begin to sink forward. This +would reduce materially the time before his face would sink into the +sand. +</P> + +<P> +Why not hang on and let the horse drag him out, too? He had as much +right to live as Charlton. Was there any law of justice that forced +him to throw away the rope that was his only hope? +</P> + +<P> +But he knew the tough little cowpony could not drag two heavy men from +the quicksands at the same time. If he held tight, Charlton, too, +would be sacrificed. His fingers opened. +</P> + +<P> +Roy watched the struggle on the opposite side of the wash. Charlton +was in almost to his arm-pits. The horse braced its feet and pulled. +Beulah, astride the saddle, urged it to the task again and again. At +first by imperceptible gains, then inch by inch, the man was dragged +from the mire that fought with a thousand clinging tentacles for its +prey. +</P> + +<P> +Not till Charlton was safe on the bank did Beulah realize the peril of +Beaudry. One glance across the river showed her that he was sliding +face downward to a shifting grave. With an anguished little cry she +released the rope from Charlton's body, flung herself to the saddle +again, and dashed down the bank of the creek. +</P> + +<P> +Roy lost count of time. His face was sliding down toward the sand. +Soon his mouth and nostrils would be stopped. He believed that it was +a question of minutes with him. +</P> + +<P> +Came the swift pounding of hoofs and Beulah's clear, ringing voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold your hands straight out, Roy." +</P> + +<P> +His back was toward her, so that he did not see what she meant to do. +But he obeyed blindly. With a wrench first one hand and then the other +came free from the sand and wavered into the air heavily. A rope sang, +dropped over his arms and head, tightened with a jerk around his waist. +</P> + +<P> +Two monsters seemed to be trying to tear him in two. A savage wrench +of pain went through him jaggedly. At short intervals this was +repeated. +</P> + +<P> +In spite of the suction of the muddy sand he felt its clutch giving +way. It loosened a little here, a little there. His body began to +move. After a long tug he came out at last with a rush. But he left +his high cowpuncher's boots behind. They remained buried out of sight +in the sand. He had literally been dragged out of them. +</P> + +<P> +Roy felt himself pulled shoreward. From across the quicksands came +Charlton's whoop of triumph. Presently Beulah was stooping over him +with tender little cries of woe and joy. +</P> + +<P> +He looked at her with a wan, tired smile. "I didn't think you'd make +it in time." In a moment he added: "I was horribly afraid. God, it +was awful!" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course. Who wouldn't have been?" She dismissed his confession as +of no importance. "But it's all over now. I want to hug you tight to +make sure you're here, boy." +</P> + +<P> +"There's no law against it," he said with feeble humor. +</P> + +<P> +"No, but—" With a queer little laugh she glanced across the river +toward her former lover. "I don't think I had better." +</P> + +<P> +Charlton joined them a few minutes later. He went straight to Roy and +offered his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"The feud stuff is off, Mr. Beaudry. Beulah will tell you that I +started in to make you trouble. Well, there's nothing doing in that +line. I can't fight the man who saved my life at the risk of his own." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well!" Roy blushed. "I just threw you a rope." +</P> + +<P> +"You bogged down some," Charlton returned dryly. "I've known men who +would have thought several times before throwing that rope from where +you did. They would have hated to lose their boots." +</P> + +<P> +Beulah's eyes shone. "Oh, Brad, I'm so glad. I do want you two to be +friends." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you?" As he looked at her, the eyes of the young hillman softened. +He guessed pretty accurately the state of her feelings. Beaudry had +won and he had lost. Well, he was going to be a good loser this time. +"What you want goes with me this time, Boots. The way you yanked me +out of the sinks was painful, but thorough. I'll be a friend to Mr. +Beaudry if he is of the same opinion as you. And I'll dance at his +wedding when it comes off." +</P> + +<P> +She cried out at that, but Charlton noticed that she made no denial. +Neither did Roy. He confined his remarks to the previous question, and +said that he would be very glad of Charlton's friendship. +</P> + +<P> +"Good enough. Then I reckon we better light out for camp with the glad +news that Beulah has been found. You can tell me all about it on the +way," the hillman suggested. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah dropped from her horse ten minutes later into the arms of Ned +Rutherford. Quite unexpectedly to himself, that young man found +himself filled with emotion. He caught his sister in his arms and held +her as if he never intended to let the sobbing girl go. His own voice +was not at all steady. +</P> + +<P> +"Boots—Boots … Honey-bug … Where you-all been?" he asked, +choking up suddenly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XXVIII +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Pat Ryan Evens an Old Score +</H3> + + +<P> +Dingwell, the coffee-pot in one hand and a tin cup in the other, hailed +his partner cheerfully. "Come over here, son, and tell me who you +traded yore boots to." +</P> + +<P> +"You and Brad been taking a mud bath, Mr. Beaudry?" asked one of the +Lazy Double D riders. +</P> + +<P> +Roy told them, with reservations, the story of the past twenty-four +hours. Dave listened, an indifferent manner covering a quick interest. +His young friend had done for himself a good stroke of business. There +could no longer be any question of the attitude of the Rutherfords +toward him, since he had been of so great service to Beulah. Charlton +had renounced his enmity, the ground cut from beneath his feet. Word +had reached camp only an hour before of the death of Tighe. This left +of Beaudry's foes only Hart, who did not really count, and Dan Meldrum, +at the present moment facing starvation in a prospect hole. On the +whole, it had been a surprisingly good twenty-four hours for Roy. His +partner saw this, though he did not know the best thing Roy had won out +of it. +</P> + +<P> +"Listens fine," the old-timer commented when the young man had finished. +</P> + +<P> +"Can you rustle me a pair of boots from one of the boys, Dave? Size +number eight. I've got to run back up Del Oro to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"Better let me go, son," Dave proposed casually. +</P> + +<P> +"No. It's my job to turn the fellow loose." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, see he doesn't get the drop on you. I wouldn't trust him far as +I could throw a bull by the tail." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell departed to borrow the boots and young Rutherford came over to +Beaudry. Out of the corner of his eye Roy observed that Beulah was +talking with the little Irish puncher, Pat Ryan. +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford plunged awkwardly into his thanks. His sister had made only +a partial confidant of him, but he knew that she was under obligations +to Beaudry for the rescue from Meldrum. The girl had not dared tell +her brother that the outlaw was still within his reach. She knew how +impulsively his anger would move to swift action. +</P> + +<P> +"We Rutherfords ain't liable to forget this, Mr. Beaudry. Dad has been +'most crazy since Boots disappeared. He'll sure want to thank you +himself soon as he gets a chance," blurted Ned. +</P> + +<P> +"I happened to be the lucky one to find her; that's all," Roy +depreciated. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure. I understand. But you did find her. That's the point. Dad +won't rest easy till he's seen you. I'm going to take sis right home +with me. Can't you come along?" +</P> + +<P> +Roy wished he could, but it happened that he had other fish to fry. He +shook his head reluctantly. +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell returned with a pair of high-heeled cowpuncher's boots. "Try +these on, son. They belong to Dusty. The lazy hobo wasn't up yet. If +they fit you, he'll ride back to the ranch in his socks." +</P> + +<P> +After stamping about in the boots to test them, Roy decided that they +would do. "They fit like a coat of paint," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Say, son, I'm going to hit the trail with you on that little jaunt you +mentioned," his partner announced definitely. +</P> + +<P> +Roy was glad. He had of late been fed to repletion with adventure. He +did not want any more, and with Dingwell along he was not likely to +meet it. Already he had observed that adventures generally do not come +to the adventurous, but to the ignorant and the incompetent. Dave +moved with a smiling confidence along rough trails that would have +worried his inexperienced partner. To the old-timer these difficulties +were not dangers at all, because he knew how to meet them easily. +</P> + +<P> +They rode up Del Oro by the same route Roy and Beulah had followed the +previous night. Before noon they were close to the prospect hole where +Roy had left the rustler. The sound of voices brought them up in their +tracks. +</P> + +<P> +They listened. A whine was in one voice; in the other was crisp +command. +</P> + +<P> +"Looks like some one done beat us to it," drawled Dingwell. "We'll +move on and see what's doing." +</P> + +<P> +They topped the brow of a hill. +</P> + +<P> +A bow-legged little man with his back to them was facing Dan Meldrum. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going along with yez as far as the border. You'll keep moving +lively till ye hit the hacienda of old Porf. Diaz. And you'll stay +there. Mind that now, Dan. Don't—" +</P> + +<P> +The ex-convict broke in with the howl of a trapped wolf. "You've lied +to me. You brought yore friends to kill me." +</P> + +<P> +The six-gun of the bad man blazed once—twice. In answer the revolver +of the bandy-legged puncher barked out, fired from the hip. Meldrum +staggered, stumbled, pitched forward into the pit. The man who had +killed him walked slowly forward to the edge and looked down. He stood +poised for another shot if one should prove necessary. +</P> + +<P> +Dave joined him. +</P> + +<P> +"He's dead as a stuck shote, Pat," the cattleman said gravely. +</P> + +<P> +Ryan nodded. "You saw he fired first, Dave." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." After a moment he added: "You've saved the hangman a job, Pat. +I don't know anybody Washington County could spare better. There'll be +no complaint, I reckon." +</P> + +<P> +The little Irishman shook his head. "That would go fine if you had +shot him, Dave, or if Mr. Beaudry here had. But with me it's +different. I've been sivinteen years living down a reputation as a +hellion. This ain't going to do me any good. Folks will say it was a +case of one bad man wiping out another. They'll say I've gone back to +being a gunman. I'll be in bad sure as taxes." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell looked at him, an idea dawning in his mind. Why not keep from +the public the name of the man who had shot Meldrum? The position of +the wound and the revolver clenched in the dead man's hand would show +he had come to his end in fair fight. The three of them might sign a +statement to the effect that one of them had killed the fellow in open +battle. The doubt as to which one would stimulate general interest. +No doubt the gossips would settle on Beaudry as the one who had done +it. This would still further enhance his reputation as a good man with +whom not to pick trouble. +</P> + +<P> +"Suits me if it does Roy," the cattleman said, speaking his thoughts +aloud. "How about it, son? Pat is right. This will hurt him, but it +wouldn't hurt you or me a bit. Say the word and all three of us will +refuse to tell which one shot Meldrum." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm willing," Roy agreed. "And I've been looking up ancient history, +Mr. Ryan. I don't think you were as bad as you painted yourself to me +once. I'm ready to shake hands with you whenever you like." +</P> + +<P> +The little Irishman flushed. He shook hands with shining eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"That's why I was tickled when Miss Beulah asked me to come up and turn +loose that coyote. It's a God's truth that I hoped he'd fight. I +wanted to do you a good bit of wolf-killing if I could. And I've done +it … and I'm not sorry. He had it coming if iver a man had." +</P> + +<P> +"Did you say that Beulah Rutherford sent you up here?" asked Roy. +</P> + +<P> +"She asked me to come. Yis." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can only guess her reasons. She didn't want you to come and she +couldn't ask Ned for fear he would gun the fellow. So she just picked +on a red-headed runt of an Irishman." +</P> + +<P> +"While we're so close, let's ride across to Huerfano Park," suggested +Dave. "I haven't been there in twenty years." +</P> + +<P> +That suited Roy exactly. As they rode across the hills his mind was +full of Beulah. She had sent Ryan up so that he could get Meldrum away +before her lover arrived. Was it because she was afraid Roy might show +the white feather? Or was it because she feared for his safety? He +wished he knew. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Chapter XXIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A New Leaf +</H3> + + +<P> +Hal Rutherford himself met the three riders as they drew up at the +horse ranch. He asked no verbal questions, but his eyes ranged +curiously from one to another. +</P> + +<P> +"'Light, gentlemen. I been wanting to see you especially, Mr. +Beaudry," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon you know where we've been, Hal," answered Dave after he had +dismounted. +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon." +</P> + +<P> +"We got a little news for public circulation. You can pass the word +among the boys. Dan Meldrum was shot three hours ago beside the pit +where Miss Beulah was imprisoned. His body is in the prospect hole +now. You might send some lads with spades to bury him." +</P> + +<P> +"One of you shot him." +</P> + +<P> +"You done guessed it, Hal. One of us helped him out of that pit +intending to see he hit the dust to Mexico. Dan was loaded to the +guards with suspicions. He chose to make it a gun-play. Fired twice. +The one of us that took him out of the pit fired back and dropped him +first crack. All of us saw the affair. It happened just as I've told +you." +</P> + +<P> +"But which of you—?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's the only point we can't remember. It was one of us, but we've +forgotten which one." +</P> + +<P> +"Suits me if it does you. I'll thank all three of you, then." +Rutherford cleared his throat and plunged on. "Boys, to-day kinder +makes an epoch in Huerfano Park. Jess Tighe died yesterday and Dan +Meldrum to-day. They were both bad citizens. There were others of us +that were bad citizens, too. Well, it's right-about face for us. We +travel broad trails from now on. Right now the park starts in to make +a new record for itself." +</P> + +<P> +Dave offered his hand, and with it went the warm smile that made him +the most popular man in Washington County. "Listens fine, Hal. I sure +am glad to hear you say so." +</P> + +<P> +"I niver had any kick against the Rutherfords. They were open and +aboveboard, anyhow, in all their diviltry," contributed Ryan to the +pact of peace. +</P> + +<P> +Nobody looked at Roy, but he felt the weight of their thoughts. All +four of them bore in mind the death of John Beaudry. His son spoke +quietly. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Rutherford, I've been thinking of my father a good deal these last +few days. I want to do as he would have me do about this thing. I'm +not going to chop my words. He gave his life to bring law and order +into this country, The men who killed him were guilty of murder. +That's an ugly word, but it's the true one." +</P> + +<P> +The grim face of the big hillman did not twitch. "I'll take the word +from you. Go on." +</P> + +<P> +"But I've been thinking more and more that he would want me to forget +that. Tighe and Meldrum are gone. Sheriff Beaudry worked for the good +of the community. That is all he asked. It is for the best interest +of Washington County that we bury the past. If you say so, I'll shake +hands on that and we'll all face to the future. Just as you say." +</P> + +<P> +Dingwell grinned. "Hooray! Big Chief Dave will now make oration. +You've got the right idea, son. I knew Jack Beaudry. There wasn't an +atom of revenge in his game body. His advice would have been to shake +hands. That's mine, too." +</P> + +<P> +The hillman and Roy followed it. +</P> + +<P> +Upon the porch a young woman appeared. +</P> + +<P> +"I've written those letters for you, dad," she called. +</P> + +<P> +Roy deserted the peace conference at once and joined her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I didn't know it was you," she cried. "I'm so glad you came this +way. Was it … all right?" +</P> + +<P> +"Right as the wheat. Why did you send Pat up Del Oro?" +</P> + +<P> +She looked at him with eyes incredibly kind and shy. "Because I … +didn't want to run any chance of losing my new beau." +</P> + +<P> +"Are you sure that was your only reason?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certain sure. I didn't trust Meldrum, and … I thought you had +taken chances enough with him. So I gave Mr. Ryan an opportunity." +</P> + +<P> +"He took it," her lover answered gravely. +</P> + +<P> +She glanced at him quickly. "You mean—?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind what I mean now. We've more important things to talk +about. I haven't seen you for eight hours, and thirty-three minutes." +</P> + +<P> +Rutherford turned his guests over to Ned, who led the way to the +stable. The ranchman joined the lovers. He put an arm around Beulah. +</P> + +<P> +"Boots has done told me about you two, Mr. Beaudry. I'm eternally +grateful to you for bringing back my little girl to me, and if you all +feel right sure you care for each other I've got nothing to say but +'God bless you.' You're a white man. You're decent. I believe you'll +be kind to her." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to try to the best I know, Mr. Rutherford." +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better, young man." The big rancher swallowed a lump in his +throat and passed to another phase of the subject. "Boots was telling +me about how it kinder stuck in yore craw to marry the daughter of Hal +Rutherford, seeing as how things happened the way they did. Well, I'm +going to relieve yore mind. She's the one that has got the forgiving +to do, not you. She knew it all the time, too, but she didn't tell it. +Beulah is the daughter of my brother Anse. I took her from the arms of +her dying mother when she was a little trick that couldn't crawl. +She's not the daughter of the man that shot yore father. She's the +daughter of the man yore father shot." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" gasped Roy. +</P> + +<P> +Beulah went to her lover arrow-swift. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear … my dear! What does it matter now? Dad says my father +was killed in fair fight. He had set himself against the law. It took +his life. Your father didn't." +</P> + +<P> +"But—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, his was the hand. But he was sheriff. He did only his duty. +That's true, isn't it, dad?" +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon." +</P> + +<P> +Her strong young hands gripped tightly those of her lover. She looked +proudly into his eyes with that little flare of feminine ferocity in +hers. +</P> + +<P> +"I won't have it any other way, Roy Beaudry. You're the man I'm going +to marry, the man who is going to be the father of my children if God +gives me any. No blood stands between us—nothing but the memory of +brave men who misunderstood each other and were hurt because of it. +Our marriage puts an end forever to even the memory of the wrong they +did each other. That is the way it is to me—and that's the way it has +got to be to you, too." +</P> + +<P> +Roy laughed softly, tears in his eyes. As he looked at her eager young +beauty the hot life in his pulses throbbed. He snatched her to him +with an ardor as savage as her own. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE END +<BR><BR> +OF THE BEGINNING +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<hr class="full" noshade> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHERIFF'S SON***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 17043-h.txt or 17043-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/4/17043">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/0/4/17043</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Sheriff's Son + + +Author: William MacLeod Raine + + + +Release Date: November 11, 2005 [eBook #17043] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHERIFF'S SON*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 17043-h.htm or 17043-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/4/17043/17043-h/17043-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/4/17043/17043-h.zip) + + + + + +THE SHERIFF'S SON + +by + +WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE + +Author of +The Yukon Trail, Wyoming, etc. + +Illustrated by Harold Cue + + + + + + + +[Frontispiece: When Meldrum came in answer to her summons, he met the +shock of his life.] + + + + +New York +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers +Made in the United States of America +Copyright, 1917 and 1918, by Frank A. Munsey Company +Copyright, 1918, by William Macleod Raine +All Rights Reserved +Published April 1918 + + + + + +TO + +ROBERT H. DAVIS + + +WHO WITH HIS USUAL GENEROSITY TO WRITERS + +MADE THE AUTHOR A PRESENT + +OF THE GERM IDEA + +OF THIS PLOT + + + + +Contents + + Foreword + I. Dingwell Gives Three Cheers. + II. Dave Caches a Gunnysack + III. The Old-Timer Sits into a Big Game + IV. Royal Beaudry Hears a Call + V. The Hill Girl + VI. "Cherokee Street" + VII. Jess Tighe Spins a Web + VIII. Beulah Asks Questions + IX. The Man on the Bed + X. Dave Takes a Ride + XI. Tighe Weaves his Web Tighter + XII. Stark Fear + XIII. Beulah Interferes + XIV. Personally Escorted + XV. The Bad Man + XVI. Roy is Invited to Take a Drink + XVII. Roy Improves the Shining Hours + XVIII. Rutherford Answers Questions + XIX. Beaudry Blows a Smoke Wreath + XX. At the Lazy Double D + XXI. Roy Rides his Paint Hoss + XXII. Miss Rutherford Speaks her Mind + XXIII. In the Pit + XXIV. The Bad Man Decides not to Shoot + XXV. Two and a Camp-Fire + XXVI. The Sins of the Fathers + XXVII. The Quicksands + XXVIII. Pat Ryan Evens an Old Score + XXIX. A New Leaf + + + + +The Sheriff's Son + +Foreword + +Through the mesquite a horse moved deviously, following the crooked +trail of least resistance. A man was in the saddle and in front of him +a little boy nodding with sleep. The arm of the rider cradled the +youngster against the lurches of the pony's gait. + +The owner of the arm looked down at the tired little bundle it was +supporting. A wistful tenderness was in the leathery face. To the +rest of the world he was a man of iron. To this wee bit of humanity he +was a nurse, a playmate, a slave. + +"We're 'most to the creek now, son. Onc't we get there, we'll throw +off and camp. You can eat a snack and tumble right off to bye-low +land," he promised. + +The five-year-old smiled faintly and snuggled closer. His long lashes +drooped again to the soft cheeks. With the innocent selfishness of a +child he accepted the love that sheltered him from all troubles. + +A valley opened below the mesa, the trail falling abruptly almost from +the hoofs of the horse. Beaudry drew up and looked down. From rim to +rim the meadow was perhaps half a mile across. Seen from above, the +bed of it was like an emerald lake through which wound a ribbon of +silver. This ribbon was Big Creek. To the right it emerged from a +draw in the foothills where green reaches of forest rose tier after +tier toward the purple mountains. Far up among these peaks Big Creek +had its source in Lost Lake, which lay at the foot of a glacier near +the top of the world. + +The saw-toothed range lifted its crest into a sky of violet haze. Half +an hour since the sun had set in a blaze of splendor behind a crotch of +the hills, but dusk had softened the vivid tints of orange and crimson +and scarlet to a faint pink glow. Already the mountain silhouette had +lost its sharp edge and the outlines were blurring. Soon night would +sift down over the roof of the continent. + +The eyes of the man searched warily the valley below. They rested +closely on the willows by the ford, the cottonwood grove to the left, +and the big rocks beyond the creek. From its case beneath his leg he +took the sawed-off shotgun loaded with buckshot. It rested on the +pommel of the saddle while his long and careful scrutiny swept the +panorama. The spot was an ideal one for an ambush. + +His unease communicated itself to the boy, who began to whimper softly. +Beaudry, distressed, tried to comfort him. + +"Now, don't you, son--don't you. Dad ain't going to let anything hurt +you-all." + +Presently he touched the flank of his roan with a spur and the animal +began to pick its way down the steep trail among the loose rubble. Not +for an instant did the rider relax his vigilance as he descended. At +the ford he examined the ground carefully to make sure that nobody had +crossed since the shower of the afternoon. Swinging to the saddle +again, he put his horse to the water and splashed through to the +opposite shore. Once more he dismounted and studied the approach to +the creek. No tracks had written their story on the sand in the past +few hours. Yet with every sense alert he led the way to the cottonwood +grove where he intended to camp. Not till he had made a tour of the +big rocks and a clump of prickly pears adjoining was his mind easy. + +He came back to find the boy crying. "What's the matter, big son?" he +called cheerily. "Nothing a-tall to be afraid of. This nice +camping-ground fits us like a coat of paint. You-all take forty winks +while dad fixes up some supper." + +He spread his slicker and rolled his coat for a pillow, fitting it +snugly to the child's head. While he lit a fire he beguiled the time +with animated talk. One might have guessed that he was trying to make +the little fellow forget the alarm that had been stirred in his mind. + +"Sing the li'l' ole hawss," commanded the boy, reducing his sobs. + +Beaudry followed orders in a tuneless voice that hopped gayly up and +down. He had invented words and music years ago as a lullaby and the +song was in frequent demand. + + "Li'l' ole hawss an' li'l' ole cow, + Amblin' along by the ole haymow, + Li'l' ole hawss took a bite an' a chew, + 'Durned if I don't,' says the ole cow, too." + +Seventeen stanzas detailed the adventures of this amazing horse and +predatory cow. Somewhere near the middle of the epic little Royal +Beaudry usually dropped asleep. The rhythmic tale always comforted +him. These nameless animals were very real friends of his. They had +been companions of his tenderest years. He loved them with a devotion +from which no fairy tale could wean him. + +Before he had quite surrendered to the lullaby, his father aroused him +to share the bacon and the flapjacks he had cooked. + +"Come and get it, big son," Beaudry called with an imitation of manly +roughness. + +The boy ate drowsily before the fire, nodding between bites. + +Presently the father wrapped the lad up snugly in his blankets and +prompted him while he said his prayers. No woman's hands could have +been tenderer than the calloused ones of this frontiersman. The boy +was his life. For the girl-bride of John Beaudry had died to give this +son birth. + +Beaudry sat by the dying fire and smoked. The hills had faded to +black, shadowy outlines beneath a night of a million stars. During the +day the mountains were companions, heaven was the home of warm friendly +sunshine that poured down lance-straight upon the traveler. But now +the black, jagged peaks were guards that shut him into a vast prison of +loneliness. He was alone with God, an atom of no consequence. Many a +time, when he had looked up into the sky vault from the saddle that was +his pillow, he had known that sense of insignificance. + +To-night the thoughts of John Beaudry were somber. He looked over his +past with a strange feeling that he had lived his life and come to the +end of it. He was not yet forty, a well-set, bow-legged man of medium +height, in perfect health, sound as to every organ. From an old war +wound he had got while raiding with Morgan he limped a little. Two +more recent bullet scars marked his body. But none of these interfered +with his activity. He was in the virile prime of life; yet a bell rang +in his heart the warning that he was soon to die. That was why he was +taking his little son out of the country to safety. + +He took all the precautions that one could, but he knew that in the end +these would fail him. The Rutherfords would get him. Of that he had +no doubt. They would probably have killed him, anyhow, but he had made +his sentence sure when he had shot Anse Rutherford and wounded Eli +Schaick ten days ago. That it had been done by him in self-defense +made no difference. + +Out of the Civil War John Beaudry had come looking only for peace. He +had moved West and been flung into the wild, turbulent life of the +frontier. In the Big Creek country there was no peace for strong men +in the seventies. It was a time and place for rustlers and +horse-thieves to flourish at the expense of honest settlers. They +elected their friends to office and laughed at the law. + +But the tide of civilization laps forward. A cattlemen's association +had been formed. Beaudry, active as an organizer, had been chosen its +first president. With all his energy he had fought the rustlers. When +the time came to make a stand the association nominated Beaudry for +sheriff and elected him. He had prosecuted the thieves remorselessly +in spite of threats and shots in the dark. Two of them had been put by +him behind bars. Others were awaiting trial. The climax had come when +he met Anse Rutherford and his companion at Battle Butte, had defeated +them both single-handed, and had left one dead on the field and the +other badly wounded. + +Men said that John Beaudry was one of the great sheriffs of the West. +Perhaps he was, but he would have to pay the price that such a +reputation exacts. The Rutherford gang had sworn his death and he knew +they would keep the oath. + +The man sat with one hand resting on the slim body of the sleeping boy. +His heart was troubled. What was to become of little Royal without +either father or mother? After the manner of men who live much alone +in the open he spoke his thoughts aloud. + +"Son, one of these here days they're sure a-goin' to get yore dad. +Maybe he'll ride out of town and after a while the hawss will come +galloping back with an empty saddle. A man can be mighty unpopular and +die of old age, but not if he keeps bustin' up the plans of rampageous +two-gun men, not if he shoots them up when they're full of the devil +and bad whiskey. It ain't on the cyards for me to beat them to the +draw every time, let alone that they'll see to it all the breaks are +with them. No, sir. I reckon one of these days you're goin' to be an +orphan, little son." + +He stooped over the child and wrapped the blankets closer. The muscles +of his tanned face twitched. Long he held the warm, slender body of +the boy as close to him as he dared for fear of wakening him. + +The man lay tense and rigid, his set face staring up into the starry +night. It was his hour of trial. A rising tide was sweeping him away. +He had to clutch at every straw to hold his footing. But something in +the man--his lifetime habit of facing the duty that he saw--held him +steady. + +"You got to stand the gaff, Jack Beaudry. Can't run away from your +job, can you? Got to go through, haven't you? Well, then!" + +Peace came at last to the tormented man. He fell asleep. Hours later +he opened his eyes upon a world bathed in light. It was such a brave +warm world that the fears which had gripped him in the chill night +seemed sinister dreams. In this clear, limpid atmosphere only a sick +soul could believe in a blind alley from which there was no escape. + +But facts are facts. He might hope for escape, but even now he could +not delude himself with the thought that he might win through without a +fight. + +While they ate breakfast he told the boy about the mother whom he had +never seen. John Beaudry had always intended to tell Royal the story +of his love for the slender, sweet-lipped girl whose grace and beauty +had flooded his soul. But the reticence of shyness had sealed his +lips. He had cared for her with a reverence too deep for words. + +She was the daughter of well-to-do people visiting in the West. The +young cattleman and she had fallen in love almost at sight and had +remained lovers till the day of her death. After one year of happiness +tragedy had stalked their lives. Beaudry, even then the object of the +rustlers' rage, had been intercepted on the way from Battle Butte to +his ranch. His wife, riding to meet him, heard shots and galloped +forward. From the mesa she looked down into a draw and saw her husband +fighting for his life. He was at bay in a bed of boulders, so well +covered by the big rocks that the rustlers could not easily get at him. +His enemies, scattered fanshape across the entrance to the arroyo, were +gradually edging nearer. In a panic of fear she rode wildly to the +nearest ranch, gasped out her appeal for help, and collapsed in a +woeful little huddle. His friends arrived in time to save Beaudry, +damaged only to the extent of a flesh wound in the shoulder, but the +next week the young wife gave premature birth to her child and died +four days later. + +In mental and physical equipment the baby was heir to the fears which +had beset the last days of the mother. He was a frail little fellow +and he whimpered at trifles. But the clutch of the tiny pink fingers +held John Beaudry more firmly than a grip of steel. With unflagging +patience he fended bogies from the youngster. + +But the day was at hand when he could do this no longer. That was why +he was telling Royal about the mother he had never known. From his +neck he drew a light gold chain, at the end of which was a small square +folding case. In it was a daguerreotype of a golden-haired, smiling +girl who looked out at her son with an effect of shy eagerness. + +"Give Roy pretty lady," demanded the boy. + +Beaudry shook his head slowly. "I reckon that's 'most the only thing +you can ask your dad for that he won't give you." He continued +unsteadily, looking at the picture in the palm of his hand. "Lady-Bird +I called her, son. She used to fill the house with music right out of +her heart. . . . Fine as silk and true as gold. Don't you ever forget +that your mother was a thoroughbred." His voice broke. "But I hadn't +ought to have let her stay out here. She belonged where folks are good +and kind, where they love books and music. Yet she wouldn't leave me +because . . . because . . . Maybe you'll know why she wouldn't some +day, little son." + +He drew a long, ragged breath and slipped the case back under his shirt. + +Quickly Beaudry rose and began to bustle about with suspicious +cheerfulness. He whistled while he packed and saddled. In the fresh +cool morning air they rode across the valley and climbed to the mesa +beyond. The sun mounted higher and the heat shimmered on the trail in +front of them. The surface of the earth was cracked in dry, sun-baked +tiles curving upward at the edges. Cat's-claw clutched at the legs of +the travelers. Occasionally a swift darted from rock to rock. The +faint, low voices of the desert were inaudible when the horse moved. +The riders came out of the silence and moved into the silence. + +It was noon when Beaudry drew into the suburbs of Battle Butte. He +took an inconspicuous way by alleys and side streets to the corral. +His enemies might or might not be in town. He wanted to take no +chances. All he asked was to postpone the crisis until Royal was safe +aboard a train. Crossing San Miguel Street, the riders came face to +face with a man Beaudry knew to be a spy of the Rutherfords. He was a +sleek, sly little man named Chet Fox. + +"Evening sheriff. Looks some like we-all might have rain," Fox said, +rasping his unshaven chin with the palm of a hand. + +"Looks like," agreed Beaudry with a curt nod and rode on. + +Fox disappeared around a corner, hurried forward for half a block, and +turned in at the Silver Dollar Saloon. A broad-shouldered, hawk-nosed +man of thirty was talking to three of his friends. Toward this group +Fox hurried. In a low voice he spoke six words that condemned John +Beaudry to death. + +"Beaudry just now rode into town." + +Hal Rutherford forgot the story he was telling. He gave crisp, short +orders. The men about him left by the back door of the saloon and +scattered. + +Meanwhile the sheriff rode into the Elephant Corral and unsaddled his +horse. He led the animal to the trough in the yard and pumped water +for it. His son trotted back beside him to the stable and played with +a puppy while the roan was being fed. + +Jake Sharp, owner of the corral, stood in the doorway and chatted with +the sheriff for a minute. Was it true that a new schoolhouse was going +to be built on Bonito? And had the sheriff heard whether McCarty was +to be boss of Big Creek roundup? + +Beaudry answered his questions and turned away. Royal clung to one +hand as they walked. The other held the muley gun. + +It was no sound that warned the sheriff. The approach of his enemies +had been noiseless. But the sixth sense that comes to some fighting +men made him look up quickly. Five riders were moving down the street +toward the stable, Hal Rutherford in the lead. The alert glance of the +imperiled man swept the pasture back of the corral. The glint of the +sun heliographed danger from the rifle barrels of two men just topping +the brow of the hill. Two more were stealing up through a draw to the +right. A bullet whistled past the head of the officer. + +The father spoke quietly to his little boy. "Run, son, to the stable." + +The little chap began to sob. Bullets were already kicking up the dust +behind them. Roy clung in terror to the leg of his father. + +Beaudry caught up the child and made a dash for the stable. He reached +it, just as Sharp and his horse-wrangler were disappearing into the +loft. There was no time to climb the ladder with Royal. John flung +open the top of the feed-bin, dropped the boy inside, and slammed down +the lid. + +The story of the fight that followed is still an epic in the Southwest. +There was no question of fair play. The enemies of the sheriff +intended to murder him. + +The men in his rear were already clambering over the corral fence. One +of them had a scarlet handkerchief around his neck. Beaudry fired from +his hip and the vivid kerchief lurched forward into the dust. Almost +at the same moment a sharp sting in the fleshy part of his leg told the +officer that he was wounded. + +From front and rear the attackers surged into the stable. The sheriff +emptied the second barrel of buckshot into the huddle and retreated +into an empty horse-stall. The smoke of many guns filled the air so +that the heads thrust at him seemed oddly detached from bodies. A +red-hot flame burned its way through his chest. He knew he was +mortally wounded. + +Hal Rutherford plunged at him, screaming an oath. "We've got him, +boys." + +Beaudry stumbled back against the manger, the arms of his foe clinging +to him like ropes of steel. Twice he brought down the butt of his +sawed-off gun on the black head of Rutherford. The grip of the big +hillman grew lax, and as the man collapsed, his fingers slid slackly +down the thighs of the officer. + +John dropped the empty weapon and dragged out a Colt's forty-four. He +fired low and fast, not stopping to take aim. Another flame seared its +way through his body. The time left him now could be counted in +seconds. + +But it was not in the man to give up. The old rebel yell of Morgan's +raiders quavered from his throat. They rushed him. With no room even +for six-gun work he turned his revolver into a club. His arm rose and +fell in the melee as the drive of the rustlers swept him to and fro. + +So savage was the defense of their victim against the hillmen's +onslaught that he beat them off. A sudden panic seized them, and those +that could still travel fled in terror. + +They left behind them four dead and two badly wounded. One would be a +cripple to the day of his death. Of those who escaped there was not +one that did not carry scars for months as a memento of the battle. + +The sheriff was lying in the stall when Sharp found him. From out of +the feed-bin the owner of the corral brought his boy to the father +whose life was ebbing. The child was trembling like an aspen leaf. + +"Picture," gasped Beaudry, his hand moving feebly toward the chain. + +A bullet had struck the edge of the daguerreo-type case. + +"She . . . tried . . . to save me . . . again," murmured the dying man +with a faint smile. + +He looked at the face of his sweetheart. It smiled an eager invitation +to him. A strange radiance lit his eyes. + +Then his head fell back. He had gone to join his Lady-Bird. + + + + +Chapter I + +Dingwell Gives Three Cheers + +Dave Dingwell had been in the saddle almost since daylight had wakened +him to the magic sunshine of a world washed cool and miraculously clean +by the soft breath of the hills. Steadily he had jogged across the +desert toward the range. Afternoon had brought him to the foothills, +where a fine rain blotted out the peaks and softened the sharp outlines +of the landscape to a gentle blur of green loveliness. + +The rider untied his slicker from the rear of the saddle and slipped +into it. He had lived too long in sun-and-wind-parched New Mexico to +resent a shower. Yet he realized that it might seriously affect the +success of what he had undertaken. + +If there had been any one to observe this solitary traveler, he would +have said that the man gave no heed to the beauty of the day. Since he +had broken camp his impassive gaze had been fixed for the most part on +the ground in front of him. Occasionally he swung his long leg across +the rump of the horse and dismounted to stoop down for a closer +examination of the hoofprints he was following. They were not recent +tracks. He happened to know that they were about three days old. +Plain as a printed book was the story they told him. + +The horses that had made these tracks had been ridden by men in a +desperate hurry. They had walked little and galloped much. Not once +had they fallen into the easy Spanish jog-trot used so much in the +casual travel of the South-west. The spur of some compelling motive +had driven this party at top speed. + +Since Dingwell knew the reason for such haste he rode warily. His +alert caution suggested the panther. The eye of the man pounced surely +upon every bit of cactus or greasewood behind which a possible foe +might be hidden. His lean, sun-tanned face was an open letter of +recommendation as to his ability to take care of himself in a world +that had often glared at him wolfishly. A man in a temper to pick a +quarrel would have looked twice at Dave Dingwell before choosing him as +the object of it--and then would have passed on to a less competent +citizen. + +The trail grew stiffer. It circled into a draw down which tumbled a +jocund little stream. Trout, it might be safely guessed, lurked here +in the riffles and behind the big stones. An ideal camping-ground +this, but the rider rejected it apparently without consideration. He +passed into the canon beyond, and so by a long uphill climb came to the +higher reaches of the hills. + +He rode patiently, without any hurry, without any hesitation. Here +again a reader of character might have found something significant in +the steadiness of the man. Once on the trail, it would not be easy to +shake him off. + +By the count of years Dingwell might be in the early forties. Many +little wrinkles radiated fanlike from the corners of his eyes. But +whatever his age time had not tamed him. In the cock of those same +steel-blue eyes was something jaunty, something almost debonair, that +carried one back to a youth of care-free rioting in a land of sunshine. +Not that Mr. Dingwell was given to futile dissipations. He had the +reputation of a responsible ranchman. But it is not to be denied that +little devils of mischief at times danced in those orbs. + +Into the hills the trail wound across gulches and along the shoulders +of elephant humps. It brought him into a country of stunted pines and +red sandstone, and so to the summit of a ridge which formed part of the +rim of a saucer-shaped basin. He looked down into an open park hedged +in on the far side by mountains. Scrubby pines straggled up the slopes +from arroyos that cleft the hills. By divers unknown paths these led +into the range beyond. + +A clump of quaking aspens was the chief landmark in the bed of the +park. Though this was the immediate destination of Mr. Dingwell, since +the hoofprints he was following plunged straight down toward the grove, +yet he took certain precautions before venturing nearer. He made sure +that the 45-70 Winchester that lay across the saddle was in working +order. Also he kept along the rim of the saucer-shaped park till he +came to a break where a creek tumbled down in a white foam through a +ravine. + +"It's a heap better to be safe than to be sorry," he explained to +himself cheerfully. "They call this Lonesome Park, and maybe so it +deserves its name to-day. But you never can tell, Dave. We'll make +haste slowly if you don't mind." + +Along the bank of the creek he descended, letting his sure-footed +cowpony pick its own way while he gave strict attention to the scenery. +At a bend of the stream he struck again the trail of the riders he had +been following and came from there directly to the edge of the aspen +clump. + +Apparently his precautions were unnecessary. He was alone. There +could be no doubt of that. Only the tracks of feet and the ashes of a +dead fire showed that within a few days a party had camped here. + +Dingwell threw his bridle to the ground and with his rifle tucked under +his arm examined the tracks carefully. Sometimes he was down on hands +and knees peering at the faint marks of which he was reading the story. +Foot by foot he quartered over the sand, entirely circling the grove +before he returned to the ashes of the dead fire. Certain facts he had +discovered. One was that the party which had camped here had split up +and taken to the hills by different trails instead of as a unit. Still +another was that so far as he could see there had been no digging in or +near the grove. + +It was raining more definitely now, so that the distant peaks were +hidden in a mist. In the lee of the aspens it was still dry. Dingwell +stood there frowning at the ashes of the dead campfire. He had had a +theory, and it was not working out quite as he had hoped. For the +moment he was at a mental impasse. Part of what had happened he could +guess almost as well as if he had been present to see it. Sweeney's +posse had given the fugitives a scare at Dry Gap and driven them back +into the desert. In the early morning they had tried the hills again +and had reached Lonesome Park. But they could not be sure that Sweeney +or some one of the posses sent out by the railroad was not close at +hand. Somewhere in the range back of them the pursuers were combing +the hills, and into those very hills the bandits had to go to disappear +in their mountain haunts. + +Even before reaching the park Dingwell had guessed the robbers would +separate here and strike each for individual safety. But what had they +done with the loot? That was the thing that puzzled him. + +They had divided the gold here. Or one of them had taken it with him +to an appointed rendezvous in the hills. Or they had cached it, One of +these three plans had been followed. But which? + +Dingwell rubbed the open fingers of one hand slowly through his +sunburnt thatch of hair. "Doggone my hide, if it don't look like they +took it with them," he murmured. "But that ain't reasonable, Dave. +The man in charge of this hold-up knew his business. It was smooth +work all the way through. If it hadn't been for bad luck he would have +got away with the whole thing fine. They still had the loot with them +when they got here. No doubt about that. Well, then! He wouldn't +divvy up here, because, if they separated, and any one of them got +caught with the gold on him, it would be a give-away. But if they +didn't have the dough on them, it would not matter if some of the boys +were caught. You can't do anything with a man riding peaceable through +the hills looking for strays, no matter how loaded to the guards with +suspicions you may be. So they would cache the loot. Wouldn't they? +Sure they would if they had any sense. But tell me where, Dave." + +His thoughtful eyes had for some moments been resting on something that +held them. He stooped and picked up a little chip of sealing-wax. +Instantly he knew how it had come here. The gold sacks had been sealed +by the express company with wax. At least one of the sacks had been +opened here by the robbers. + +Did this mean they had divided their treasure here? It might mean +that. Or it might mean that before they cached it they had opened one +sack to see how much it held. Dingwell clung to the opinion that the +latter was the truth, partly because this marched with his hopes and +partly because it seemed to him more likely. There would be a big risk +in taking their haul with them farther. There was none at all in +caching it. + +It was odd how that little heap of ashes in the center of the camp-fire +drew his eye. Ashes did not arrange themselves that way naturally. +Some one had raked these into a pile. Why? And who? + +He could not answer those questions offhand. But he had a large bump +of curiosity about some things. Otherwise he would not have been where +he was that afternoon. With his boot he swept the ashes aside. The +ground beneath them was a little higher than it was in the immediate +neighborhood. Why should the bandits have built their fire on a small +hillock when there was level ground adjacent? There might be a reason +underneath that little rise of ground or there might not. Mr. Dingwell +got out his long hunting-knife, fell on his knees, and began to dig at +the center of the spot where the campfire had been. + +The dirt flew. With his left hand he scooped it from the hole he was +making. Presently the point of his knife struck metal. Three minutes +later he unearthed a heavy gunnysack. Inside of it were a lot of +smaller sacks bearing the seal of the Western Express Company. He had +found the gold stolen by the Rutherford gang from the Pacific Flyer. + +Dave was pleased with himself. It had been a good day's work. He +admitted cheerfully that there was not another man in New Mexico who +could have pulled off successfully the thing he had just done. The +loot had been well hidden. It had been a stroke of genius to cache it +in the spot where the camp-fire was afterward built. But he had +outguessed Jess Tighe that time. His luck had sure stood up fine. The +occasion called for a demonstration. + +He took off his broad-rimmed gray hat. "Three rousing cheers, Mr. +Dingwell," he announced ceremoniously. "Now, all together." + +Rising to his toes, he waved his hat joyously, worked his shoulders +like a college cheer leader, and gave a dumb pantomime of yelling. He +had intended to finish off with a short solo dance step, for it is not +every day that a man finds twenty thousand dollars in gold bars buried +in the sand. + +But he changed his mind. As he let himself slowly down to his heels +there was a sardonic grin on his brown face. In outguessing Tighe he +had slipped one little mental cog, after all, and the chances were that +he would pay high for his error. A man had been lying in the mesquite +close to the creek watching him all the time. He knew it because he +had caught the flash of light on the rifle barrel that covered him. + +The gold-digger beckoned with his hat as he called out. "Come right +along to the party. You're welcome as a frost in June." + +A head raised itself cautiously out of the brush. "Don't you move, or +I'll plug lead into you." + +"I'm hog-tied," answered Dingwell promptly. His mind worked swiftly. +The man with the drop on him was Chet Fox, a hanger-on of the +Rutherford gang, just as he had been seventeen years before when he +betrayed John Beaudry to death. Fox was shrewd and wily, but no +gunman. If Chet was alone, his prisoner did not propose to remain one. +Dave did not intend to make any fool breaks, but it would be hard luck +if he could not contrive a chance to turn the tables. + +"Reach for the roof." + +Dingwell obeyed orders. + +Fox came forward very cautiously. Not for an instant did his beady +eyes lift from the man he covered. + +"Turn your back to me." + +The other man did as he was told. + +Gingerly Fox transferred the rifle to his left hand, then drew a +revolver. He placed the rifle against the fork of a young aspen and +the barrel of the six-gun against the small of Dingwell's back. + +"Make just one break and you're a goner," he threatened. + +With deft fingers he slid the revolver of the cattleman from its +holster. Then, having collected Dingwell's rifle, he fell back a few +steps. + +"Now you can go on with those health exercises I interrupted if you've +a mind to," Fox suggested with a sneer. + +His prisoner turned dejected eyes upon him. "That's right. Rub it in, +Chet. Don't you reckon I know what a long-eared jackass I am?" + +"There's two of us know it then," said Fox dryly. "Now, lift that +gunnysack to your saddle and tie it on behind." + +This done, Fox pulled himself to the saddle, still with a wary eye on +his captive. + +"Hit the trail along the creek," he ordered. + +Dingwell moved forward reluctantly. It was easy to read chagrin and +depression in the sag of his shoulders and the drag of his feet. + +The pig eyes of the fat little man on horseback shone with triumph. He +was enjoying himself hugely. It was worth something to have tamed so +debonair a dare-devil as Dingwell had the reputation of being. He had +the fellow so meek that he would eat out of his hand. + + + + +Chapter II + +Dave Caches a Gunnysack + +Fox rode about ten yards behind his prisoner, who plodded without +spirit up the creek trail that led from the basin. + +"You're certainly an accommodating fellow, Dave," he jeered. "I've +seen them as would have grumbled a heap at digging up that sack, and +then loaning me their horse to carry it whilst they walked. But you're +that cheerful. My own brother wouldn't have been so kind." + +Dingwell grunted sulkily. He may have felt cheerful, but he did not +look it. The pudgy round body of Fox shook with silent laughter. + +"Kind is the word, Dave. Honest, I hate to put myself under +obligations to you like this. If I hadn't seen with my own eyes how +you was feeling the need of them health exercises, I couldn't let you +force your bronc on me. But this little walk will do you a lot of +good. It ain't far. My horse is up there in the pines." + +"What are you going to do with me?" growled the defeated man over his +shoulder. + +"Do with you?" The voice of Fox registered amiable surprise. "Why, I +am going to ask you to go up to the horse ranch with me so that the +boys can thank you proper for digging up the gold." + +Directly in front of them a spur of the range jutted out to meet the +brown foothills. Back of this, forty miles as the crow flies, nestled +a mountain park surrounded by peaks. In it was the Rutherford horse +ranch. Few men traveled to it, and these by little-used trails. Of +those who frequented them, some were night riders. They carried a +price on their heads, fugitives from localities where the arm of the +law reached more surely. + +Through the dry brittle grass the man on horseback followed Dingwell to +the scant pines where his cowpony was tethered. Fox dismounted and +stood over his captive while the latter transferred the gunnysack and +its contents to the other saddle. Never for an instant did the little +spy let the other man close enough to pounce upon him. Even though +Dingwell was cowed, Chet proposed to play it safe. Not till he was in +the saddle himself did he let his prisoner mount. + +Instantly Dave's cowpony went into the air. + +"Whoa, you Teddy! What's the matter with you?" cried the owner of the +horse angrily. "Quit your two-stepping, can't you?" + +The animal had been gentle enough all day, but now a devil of unrest +seemed to have entered it. The sound of trampling hoofs thudded on the +hard, sun-baked earth as the bronco came down like a pile-driver, +camel-backed, with legs stiff and unjointed. Skyward it flung itself +again, whirled in the air, and jarred down at an angle. Wildly flapped +the arms of the cattleman. The quirt, wrong end to, danced up and down +clutched in his flying fist. Each moment it looked as if Mr. Dingwell +would take the dust. + +The fat stomach of Fox shook with mirth. "Go it, you buckaroo," he +shouted. "You got him pulling leather. Sunfish, you pie-faced cayuse." + +The horse in its lunges pounded closer. Fox backed away, momentarily +alarmed. "Here ---- you, hold your brute off. It'll be on top of me +in a minute," he screamed. + +Apparently Dingwell had lost all control of the bucker. Somehow he +still stuck to the saddle, by luck rather than skill it appeared. His +arms, working like windmills, went up as Teddy shot into the air again. +The hump-backed weaver came down close to the other horse. At the same +instant Dingwell's loose arm grew rigid and the loaded end of the quirt +dropped on the head of Fox. + +The body of Fox relaxed and the rifle slid from his nerveless fingers. +Teddy stopped bucking as if a spring had been touched. Dingwell was on +his own feet before the other knew what had happened. His long arm +plucked the little man from the saddle as if he had been a child. + +Still jarred by the blow, Fox looked up with a ludicrous expression on +his fat face. His mind was not yet adjusted to what had taken place. + +"I told you to keep the brute away," he complained querulously. "Now, +see what you've done." + +Dave grinned. "Looks like I spilled your apple cart. No, don't bother +about that gun. I'll take care of it for you. Much obliged." + +Chet's face registered complex emotion. Incredulity struggled with +resentment. "You made that horse buck on purpose," he charged. + +"You're certainly a wiz, Chet," drawled the cattleman. + +"And that business of being sore at yourself and ashamed was all a +bluff. You were laying back to trick me," went on Fox venomously. + +"How did you guess it? Well, don't you care. We're born to trouble as +the sparks fly upward. As for man, his days are as grass. He diggeth +a pit and falleth into it his own self. Likewise he digs a hole and +buries gold, but beholds another guy finds it. See, Second Ananias, +fourteen, twelve." + +"That's how you show your gratitude, is it? I might 'a' shot you safe +and comfortable from the mesquite and saved a lot of trouble." + +"I don't wonder you're disgusted, Chet. But be an optimist. I might +'a' busted you high and wide with that quirt instead of giving you a +nice little easy tap that just did the business. There's no manner of +use being regretful over past mistakes," Dave told him cheerfully. + +"It's easy enough for you to say that," groaned Fox, his hand to an +aching head. "But I didn't lambaste you one on the nut. Anyhow, +you've won out." + +"I had won out all the time, only I hadn't pulled it off yet," Dingwell +explained with a grin. "You didn't think I was going up to the horse +ranch with you meek and humble, did you? But we can talk while we +ride. I got to hustle back to Battle Butte and turn in this sack to +the sheriff so as I can claim the reward. Hate to trouble you, Chet, +but I'll have to ask you to transfer that gunnysack back to Teddy. +He's through bucking for to-day, I shouldn't wonder." + +Sourly Fox did as he was told. Then, still under orders, he mounted +his own horse and rode back with his former prisoner to the park. +Dingwell gathered up the rifle and revolver that had been left at the +edge of the aspen grove and headed the horses for Battle Butte. + +"We'll move lively, Chet," he said. "It will be night first thing we +know." + +Chet Fox was no fool. He could see how carefully Dingwell had built up +the situation for his coup, and he began at once laying the groundwork +for his own escape. There was in his mind no intention of trying to +recover the gold himself, but if he could get away in time to let the +Rutherfords know the situation, he knew that Dave would have an uneasy +life of it. + +"'Course I was joking about shooting you up from the mesquite, Dave," +he explained as the horses climbed the trail from the park. "I ain't +got a thing against you--nothing a-tall. Besides, I'm a law-abiding +citizen. I don't hold with this here gunman business. I never was a +killer, and I don't aim to begin now." + +"Sure, I know how tender-hearted you are, Chet. I'm that way, too. +I'm awful sorry for myself when I get in trouble. That's why I tapped +you on the cocoanut with the end of my quirt. That's why I'd let you +have about three bullets from old Tried and True here right in the back +if you tried to make your getaway. But, as you say, I haven't a thing +against you. I'll promise you one of the nicest funerals Washington +County ever had." + +The little man laughed feebly. "You will have your joke, Dave, but I +know mighty well you wouldn't shoot me. You got no legal right to +detain me." + +"I'd have to wrastle that out with the coroner afterward, I expect," +replied Dingwell casually. "Not thinking of leaving me, are you?" + +"Oh, no! No. Not at all. I was just kinder talking." + +It was seven miles from Lonesome Park to Battle Butte. Fox kept up a +kind of ingratiating whine whenever the road was so rough that the +horses had to fall into a walk. He was not sure whether when it came +to the pinch he could summon nerve to try a bolt, but he laid himself +out to establish friendly relations. Dingwell, reading him like a +primer, cocked a merry eye at the man and grinned. + +About a mile from Battle Butte they caught up with another rider, a +young woman of perhaps twenty. The dark, handsome face that turned to +see who was coming would have been a very attractive one except for its +look of sulky rebellion. From the mop of black hair tendrils had +escaped and brushed the wet cheeks flushed by the sting of the rain. +The girl rode splendidly. Even the slicker that she wore could not +disguise the flat back and the erect carriage of the slender body. + +Dingwell lifted his hat. "Good-evenin', Miss Rutherford." + +She nodded curtly. Her intelligent eyes passed from his to those of +Fox. A question and an answer, neither of them in words, flashed forth +and back between Beulah Rutherford and the little man. + +Dave took a hand in the line-up as they fell into place beside each +other. "Hold on, Fox. You keep to the left of the road. I'll ride +next you with Miss Rutherford on my right." He explained to the girl +with genial mockery his reason. "Chet and I are such _tillicums_ we +hate to let any one get between us." + +Bluntly the girl spoke out, "What's the matter?" + +The cattleman lifted his eyebrows in amused surprise. "Why, nothing at +all, I reckon. There's nothing the matter, is there, Chet?" + +"I've got an engagement to meet your father and he won't let me go," +blurted out Fox. + +"When did you make that hurry-up appointment, Chet?" laughed Dingwell. +"You didn't seem in no manner of hurry when you was lying in the +mesquite back there at Lonesome Park." + +"You've got no business to keep him here. He can go if he wants to," +flashed the young woman. + +"You hear that, Chet. You can go if you want to," murmured Dave with +good-natured irony. + +"Said he'd shoot me in the back if I hit the trail any faster," Fox +snorted to the girl. + +"He wouldn't dare," flamed Beulah Rutherford. + +Her sultry eyes attacked Dingwell. + +He smiled, not a whit disturbed. "You see how it is, Chet. Maybe I +will; maybe I won't. Be a sport and you'll find out." + +For a minute the three rode in silence except for the sound of the +horses moving. Beulah did not fully understand the situation, but it +was clear to her that somehow Dingwell was interfering with a plan of +her people. Her untamed youth resented the high-handed way in which he +seemed to be doing it. What right had he to hold Chet Fox a prisoner +at the point of a rifle? + +She asked a question flatly. "Have you got a warrant for Chet's +arrest?" + +"Only old Tried and True here." Dave patted the barrel of his weapon. + +"You're not a deputy sheriff?" + +"No-o. Not officially." + +"What has Chet done?" + +Dingwell regarded the other man humorously. "What have you done, Chet? +You must 'a' broke some ordinance in that long career of +disrespectability of yours. I reckon we'll put it that you obstructed +traffic at Lonesome Park." + +Miss Rutherford said no more. The rain had given way to a gentle mist. +Presently she took off her slicker and held it on the left side of the +saddle to fold. The cattleman leaned toward her to lend a hand. + +"Lemme roll it up," he said. + +"No, I can." + +With the same motion the girl had learned in roping cattle she flung +the slicker over his head. Her weight on the left stirrup, she threw +her arms about him and drew the oil coat tight. + +"Run, Chet!" she cried. + +Fox was off like a flash. + +Hampered by his rifle, Dave could use only one hand to free himself. +The Rutherford girl clung as if her arms had been ropes of steel. +Before he had shaken her off, the runaway was a hundred yards down the +road galloping for dear life. + +Dave raised his gun. Beulah struck the barrel down with her quirt. He +lowered the rifle, turned to her, and smiled. His grin was rueful but +friendly. + +"You're a right enterprising young lady for a schoolmarm, but I +wouldn't have shot Chet, anyhow. The circumstances don't warrant it." + +She swung from the saddle and picked her coat out of the mud where it +had fallen. Her lithe young figure was supple as that of a boy. + +"You've spoiled my coat," she charged resentfully. + +The injustice of this tickled him. "I'll buy you a new one when we get +to town," he told her promptly. + +Her angry dignity gave her another inch of height. "I'll attend to +that, Mr. Dingwell. Suppose you ride on and leave me alone. I won't +detain you." + +"Meaning that she doesn't like your company, Dave," he mused aloud, +eyes twinkling. "She seemed kinder fond of you, too, a minute ago." + +Almost she stamped her foot. "Will you go? Or shall I?" + +"Oh, I'm going, Miss Rutherford. If I wasn't such an aged, decrepit +wreck I'd come up and be one of your scholars. Anyhow, I'm real glad +to have met you. No, I can't stay longer. So sorry. Good-bye." + +He cantered down the road in the same direction Fox had taken. It +happened that he, too, wanted to be alone, for he had a problem to +solve that would not wait. Fox had galloped in to warn the Rutherford +gang that he had the gold. How long it would take him to round up two +or three of them would depend on chance. Dave knew that they might be +waiting for him before he reached town. He had to get rid of the +treasure between that spot and town, or else he had to turn on his +tired horse and try to escape to the hills. Into his mind popped a +possible solution of the difficulty. It would depend on whether luck +was for or against him. To dismount and hide the sack was impossible, +both because Beulah Rutherford was on his heels and because the muddy +road would show tracks where he had stopped. His plan was to hide it +without leaving the saddle. + +He did. At the outskirts of Battle Butte he crossed the bridge over +Big Creek and deflected to the left. He swung up one street and down +another beside which ran a small field of alfalfa on one side. A +hundred yards beyond it he met another rider, a man called Slim +Sanders, who worked for Buck Rutherford as a cow-puncher. + +The two men exchanged nods without stopping. Apparently the news that +Fox had brought was unknown to the cowboy. But Dingwell knew he was on +his way to the Legal Tender Saloon, which was the hang-out of the +Rutherford followers. In a few minutes Sanders would get his orders. + +Dave rode to the house of Sheriff Sweeney. He learned there that the +sheriff was downtown. Dingwell turned toward the business section of +the town and rode down the main street. From a passer-by he learned +that Sweeney had gone into the Legal Tender a few minutes before. In +front of that saloon he dismounted. + +Fifty yards down the street three men were walking toward him. He +recognized them as Buck Rutherford, Sanders, and Chet Fox. The little +man walked between the other two and told his story excitedly. +Dingwell did not wait for them. He had something he wanted to tell +Sweeney and he passed at once into the saloon. + + + + +Chapter III + +The Old-Timer Sits into a Big Game + +The room into which Dingwell had stepped was as large as a public +dance-hall. Scattered in one part or another of it, singly or in +groups, were fifty or sixty men. In front, to the right, was the bar, +where some cowmen and prospectors were lined up before a counter upon +which were bottles and glasses. A bartender in a white linen jacket +was polishing the walnut top with a cloth. + +Dave shook his head in answer to the invitation to drink that came to +him at once. Casually he chatted with acquaintances as he worked his +way toward the rear. This part of the room was a gambling resort. +Among the various methods of separating the prodigal from his money +were roulette, faro, keno, chuckaluck, and poker tables. Around these +a motley assemblage was gathered. Rich cattlemen brushed shoulders +with the outlaws who were rustling their calves. Mexicans without a +nickel stood side by side with Eastern consumptives out for their +health. Chinese laundrymen played the wheel beside miners and +cowpunchers. Stolid, wooden-faced Indians in blankets from the +reservation watched the turbid life of the Southwest as it eddied +around them. The new West was jostling the old West into the +background, but here the vivid life of the frontier was making its last +stand. + +By the time that Dave had made a tour of two thirds of the room he knew +that Sheriff Sweeney was not among those present. His inquiries +brought out the fact that he must have just left. Dingwell sauntered +toward the door, intending to follow him, but what he saw there changed +his mind. Buck Rutherford and Slim Sanders were lounging together at +one end of the bar. It took no detective to understand that they were +watching the door. A glance to the rear showed Dave two more +Rutherfords at the back exit. That he would have company in case he +left was a safe guess. + +The cattleman chuckled. The little devils of mischief already +mentioned danced in his eyes. If they were waiting for him to go, he +would see that they had a long session of it. Dave was in no hurry. +The night was young yet, and in any case the Legal Tender never closed. +The key had been thrown away ten years before. He could sit it out as +long as the Rutherfords could. + +Dingwell was confident no move would be made against him in public. +The sentiment of the community had developed since that distant day +when the Rutherford gang had shot down Jack Beaudry in open daylight. +Deviltry had to be done under cover now. Moreover, Dave was in the +peculiar situation of advantage that the outlaws could not kill him +until they knew where he had hidden the gold. So far as the +Rutherfords went, he was just now the goose that laid the golden egg. + +He stood chatting with another cattleman for a few moments, then +drifted back to the rear of the hall again. Underneath an elk's head +with magnificent antlers a party sat around a table playing draw poker +with a skinned deck. Two of them were wall-eyed strangers whom +Dingwell guessed to be professional tinhorns. Another ran a curio +store in town. The fourth was Dan Meldrum, one of the toughest crooks +in the county. Nineteen years ago Sheriff Beaudry had sent him to the +penitentiary for rustling calves. The fifth player sat next to the +wall. He was a large, broad-shouldered man close to fifty. His face +had the weather-beaten look of confidence that comes to an outdoor +Westerner used to leading others. + +While Dave was moving past this table, he noticed that Chet Fox was +whispering in the ear of the man next the wall. The poker-player +nodded, and at the same moment his glance met that of Dingwell. The +gray eyes of the big fellow narrowed and grew chill. Fox, starting to +move away, recognized the cattleman from whom he had escaped half an +hour before. Taken by surprise, the little spy looked guilty as an +urchin caught stealing apples. + +It took no clairvoyant to divine what the subject of that whispered +colloquy had been. The cheerful grin of Dave included impartially Fox, +Meldrum, and the player beneath the elk's head. + +The ex-convict spoke first. "Come back to sit in our game, Dave?" he +jeered. + +Dingwell understood that this was a challenge. It was impossible to +look on the ugly, lupine face of the man, marked by the ravages of +forty years of vice and unbridled passion, without knowing that he was +ready for trouble now. But Meldrum was a mere detail of a situation +piquant enough even for so light-hearted a son of the Rockies as this +cattleman. Dave had already invited himself into a far bigger game of +the Rutherford clan than this. Moreover, just now he was so far ahead +that he had cleared the table of all the stakes. Meldrum knew this. +So did Hal Rutherford, the big man sitting next the wall. What would +be their next move? Perhaps if he joined them he would find out. This +course held its dangers, but long experience had taught him that to +walk through besetting perils was less risk than to run from them. + +"If that's an invitation, Dan, you're on," he answered gayly. "Just a +minute, and I'll join you. I want to send a message to Sweeney." + +Without even looking at Meldrum to see the effect of this, Dave +beckoned a Mexican standing near. "Tell the sheriff I want to see him +here _pronto_. You win a dollar if he is back within an hour." + +The Mexican disappeared. Fox followed him. + +The cattleman drew in his chair and was introduced to the two +strangers. The quick, searching look he gave each confirmed his first +impression. These men were professional gamblers. It occurred to him +that they had made a singularly poor choice of victims in Dan Meldrum +and Hal Rutherford. Either of them would reach for his gun at the +first evidence of crooked play. + +No man in Battle Butte was a better poker psychologist than Dingwell, +but to-night cards did not interest him. He was playing a bigger game. +His subconscious mind was alert for developments. Since only his +surface attention was given to poker he played close. + +While Rutherford dealt the cards he talked at Dave. "So you're +expecting Sweeney, are you? Been having trouble with any one?" + +"Or expect to have any?" interjected Meldrum, insolence in his shifty +pig eyes. + +"No, not looking for any," answered Dingwell amiably. "Fact is, I was +prospecting around Lonesome Park and found a gold mine. Looks good, so +I thought I'd tell Sweeney about it. . . . Up to me? I've got +openers." He pushed chips to the center of the table. + +Rutherford also pushed chips forward. "I'll trail along. . . . You +got an idea of taking in Sweeney as a partner? I'm looking for a good +investment. _It would pay you to take me in rather than Sweeney_." + +Three of those at the table accepted this talk at its face value. They +did not sense the tension underneath the apparently casual +give-and-take. Two of them stayed and called for cards. But Dave +understood that he had been offered a compromise. Rutherford had +proposed to divide the gold stolen from the express car, and the +proffer carried with it a threat in case of refusal. + +"Two when you get to me. . . . No, I reckon I'll stick to the sheriff. +I've kinda arranged the deal." + +As Rutherford slid two cards across to him the eyes of the men met. +"Call it off. Sweeney is not the kind of a partner to stay with you to +the finish if your luck turns bad. When I give my word I go through." + +Dingwell looked at his cards. "Check to the pat hand. . . . Point is, +Hal, that I don't expect my luck to turn bad." + +"Hmp! Go in with Sweeney and you'll have bad luck all right. _I'll +promise you that_. Better talk this over with me and put a deal +through." He rapped on the table to show that he too passed without +betting. + +The curio dealer checked and entered a mild protest. "Is this a poker +game or a conversazione, gentlemen? It's stuck with Meldrum. I reckon +he's off in Lonesome Park gold-mining the way he's been listening." + +Meldrum brought his attention back to the game and bet his pat hand. +Dave called. After a moment's hesitation Rutherford threw down his +cards. + +"There's such a thing as pushing your luck too far," he commented. +"Now, take old man Crawford. He was mightily tickled when his brother +Jim left him the Frying Pan Ranch. But that wasn't good enough as it +stood. He had to try to better it by marrying the Swede hash-slinger +from Los Angeles. Later she fed him arsenic in his coffee. A man's a +fool to overplay his luck." + +At the showdown Meldrum disclosed a four-card flush and the cattleman +three jacks. + +As Dave raked in the pot he answered Rutherford casually. "Still, he +hadn't ought to underplay it either. The other fellow may be out on a +limb." + +"Say, is it any of your business how I play my cards?" demanded +Meldrum, thrusting his chin toward Dingwell. + +"Absolutely none," replied Dave evenly. + +"Cut that out, Dan," ordered Rutherford curtly. + +The ex-convict mumbled something into his beard, but subsided. + +Two hours had slipped away before Dingwell commented on the fact that +the sheriff had not arrived. He did not voice his suspicion that the +Mexican had been intercepted by the Rutherfords. + +"Looks like Sweeney didn't get my message," he said lazily. "You never +can tell when a Mexican is going to get too tired to travel farther." + +"Better hook up with me on that gold-mine proposition, Dave," Hal +Rutherford suggested again. + +"No, I reckon not, Hal. Much obliged, just the same." + +Dave began to watch the game more closely. There were points about it +worth noticing. For one thing, the two strangers had a habit of +getting the others into a pot and cross-raising them exasperatingly. +If Dave had kept even, it was only because he refused to be drawn into +inviting pots when either of the strangers was dealing. He observed +that though they claimed not to have met each other before there was +team work in their play. Moreover, the yellow and blue chips were +mostly piled up in front of them, while Meldrum, Rutherford, and the +curio dealer had all bought several times. Dave waited until his +doubts of crooked work became certainty before he moved. + +"The game's framed. Blair has rung in a cold deck on us. He and Smith +are playing in cahoots." + +Dingwell had risen. His hands rested on the table as an assurance that +he did not mean to back up his charge with a gunplay unless it became +necessary. + +The man who called himself Blair wasted no words in denial. His right +hand slid toward his hip pocket. Simultaneously the fingers of Dave's +left hand knotted to a fist, his arm jolted forward, and the bony +knuckles collided with the jaw of the tinhorn. The body of the +cattleman had not moved. There seemed no special effort in the blow, +but Blair went backward in his chair heels over head. The man writhed +on the floor, turned over, and lay still. + +From the moment that he had launched his blow Dave wasted no more +attention on Blair. His eyes fastened upon Smith. The man made a +motion to rise. + +"Don't you," advised the cattleman gently. "Not till I say so, Mr. +Smith. There's no manner of hurry a-tall. Meldrum, see what he's got +in his right-hand pocket. Better not object, Smith, unless you want to +ride at your own funeral." + +Meldrum drew from the man's pocket a pack of cards. + +"I thought so. They've been switching decks on us. The one we're +playing with is marked. Run your finger over the ace of clubs there, +Hal. . . . How about it?" + +"Pin-pricked," announced Rutherford. "And they've garnered in most of +the chips. What do you think?" + +"That I'll beat both their heads off," cut in Meldrum, purple with rage. + +"Not necessary, Dan," vetoed Dingwell. "We'll shear the wolves. Each +of you help yourself to chips equal to the amount you have lost. . . . +Now, Mr. Smith, you and your partner will dig up one hundred and +ninety-three dollars for these gentlemen." + +"Why?" sputtered Smith. "It's all a frame-up. We've been playing a +straight game. But say we haven't. They have got their chips back. +Let them cash in to the house. What more do you want?" + +"One hundred and ninety-three dollars. I thought I mentioned that +already. You tried to rob these men of that amount, but you didn't get +away with it. Now you'll rob yourself of just the same sum. Frisk +yourself, Mr. Smith." + +"Not on your life I won't. It. . . it's an outrage. It's robbery. +I'll not stand for it." His words were brave, but the voice of the man +quavered. The bulbous, fishy eyes of the cheat wavered before the +implacable ones of the cattleman. + +"Come through." + +The gambler's gaze passed around the table and found no help from the +men he had been robbing. A crowd was beginning to gather. Swiftly he +decided to pay forfeit and get out while there was still time. He drew +a roll of bills from his pocket and with trembling fingers counted out +the sum named. He shoved it across the table and rose. + +"Now, take your friend and both of you hit the trail out of town," +ordered the cattleman. + +Blair had by this time got to his feet and was leaning stupidly on a +chair. His companion helped him from the room. At the door he turned +and glared at Dingwell. + +"You're going to pay for this--and pay big," he spat out, his voice +shaking with rage. + +"Oh, that's all right," answered Dingwell easily. + +The game broke up. Rutherford nodded a good-night to the cattleman and +left with Meldrum. Presently Dave noticed that Buck and the rest of +the clan had also gone. Only Slim Sanders was left, and he was playing +the wheel. + +"Time to hit the hay," Dave yawned. + +The bartender called "Good-night" as Dingwell went out of the swinging +doors. He said afterward that he thought he heard the sound of +scuffling and smothered voices outside. But his interest in the matter +did not take him as far as the door to find out if anything was wrong. + + + + +Chapter IV + +Royal Beaudry Hears a Call + +A bow-legged little man with the spurs still jingling on his heels +sauntered down one side of the old plaza. He passed a train of +fagot-laden burros in charge of two Mexican boys from Tesuque, the +sides and back of each diminished mule so packed with firewood that it +was a comical caricature of a beruffed Elizabethan dame. Into the +plaza narrow, twisted streets of adobe rambled carelessly. One of +these led to the San Miguel Mission, said to be the oldest church in +the United States. + +An entire side of the square was occupied by a long, one-story adobe +structure. This was the Governor's Palace. For three hundred years it +had been the seat of turbulent and tragic history. Its solid walls had +withstood many a siege and had stifled the cries of dozens of tortured +prisoners. The mail-clad Spanish explorers Penelosa and De Salivar had +from here set out across the desert on their search for gold and glory. +In one of its rooms the last Mexican governor had dictated his defiance +to General Kearny just before the Stars and Stripes fluttered from its +flagpole. The Spaniard, the Indian, the Mexican, and the American in +turn had written here in action the romance of the Southwest. + +The little man was of the outdoors. His soft gray creased hat, the +sun-tan on his face and neck, the direct steadiness of the blue eyes +with the fine lines at the corners, were evidence enough even if he had +not carried in the wrinkles of his corduroy suit about seven pounds of +white powdered New Mexico. + +He strolled down the sidewalk in front of the Palace, the while he +chewed tobacco absent-mindedly. There was something very much on his +mind, so that it was by chance alone that his eye lit on a new tin sign +tacked to the wall. He squinted at it incredulously. His mind +digested the information it contained while his jaws worked steadily. + +The sign read:-- + + DESPACHO + + DE + + ROYAL BEAUDRY, LICENDIADO. + +For those who preferred another language, a second announcement +appeared below the first:-- + + ROYAL BEAUDRY. + + ATTORNEY AT LAW. + +"Sure, and it must be the boy himself," said the little man aloud. + +He opened the door and walked in. + +A young man sat reading with his heels crossed on the top of a desk. A +large calf-bound volume was open before him, but the book in the hands +of the youth looked less formidable. It bore the title, "Adventures of +Sherlock Holmes." The budding lawyer flashed a startled glance at his +caller and slid Dr. Watson's hero into an open drawer. + +The visitor grinned and remarked with a just perceptible Irish accent: +"'Tis a good book. I've read it myself." + +The embryo Blackstone blushed. "Say, are you a client?" he asked. + +"No-o." + +"Gee! I was afraid you were my first. I like your looks. I'd hate +for you to have the bad luck to get me for your lawyer." He laughed, +boyishly. There was a very engaging quality about his candor. + +The Irishman shot an abrupt question at him. "Are you John Beaudry's +son--him that was fighting sheriff of Washington County twenty years +ago?" + +A hint of apprehension flickered into the eyes of the young man. +"Yes," he said. + +"Your father was a gr-reat man, the gamest officer that ever the Big +Creek country saw. Me name is Patrick Ryan." + +"Glad to meet any friend of my father, Mr. Ryan." Roy Beaudry offered +his hand. His fine eyes glowed. + +"Wait," warned the little cowpuncher grimly. "I'm no liar, whativer +else I've been. Mebbe you'll be glad you've met me--an' mebbe you +won't. First off, I was no friend of your father. I trailed with the +Rutherford outfit them days. It's all long past and I'll tell youse +straight that he just missed me in the round-up that sent two of our +bunch to the pen." + +In the heart of young Beaudry a dull premonition of evil stirred. His +hand fell limply. Why had this man come out of the dead past to seek +him? His panic-stricken eyes clung as though fascinated to those of +Ryan. + +"Do you mean . . . that you were a rustler?" + +Ryan looked full at him. "You've said it. I was a wild young colt +thim days, full of the divil and all. But remimber this. I held no +grudge at Jack Beaudry. That's what he was elected for--to put me and +my sort out of business. Why should I hate him because he was man +enough to do it?" + +"That's not what some of your friends thought." + +"You're right, worse luck. I was out on the range when it happened. +I'll say this for Hal Rutherford. He was full of bad whiskey when your +father was murdered. . . . But that ended it for me. I broke with the +Huerfano gang outfit and I've run straight iver since." + +"Why have you come to me? What do you want?" asked the young lawyer, +his throat dry. + +"I need your help." + +"What for? Why should I give it? I don't know you." + +"It's not for mysilf that I want it. There's a friend of your father +in trouble. When I saw the sign with your name on it I came in to tell +you." + +"What sort of trouble?" + +"That's a long story. Did you iver hear of Dave Dingwell?" + +"Yes. I've never met him, but he put me through law school." + +"How come that?" + +"I was living in Denver with my aunt. A letter came from Mr. Dingwell +offering to pay the expenses of my education. He said he owed that +much to my father." + +"Well, then, Dave Dingwell has disappeared off the earth." + +"What do you mean--disappeared?" asked Roy. + +"He walked out of the Legal Tender Saloon one night and no friend of +his has seen him since. That was last Tuesday." + +"Is that all? He may have gone hunting--or to Denver--or Los Angeles." + +"No, he didn't do any one of the three. He was either murdered or else +hid out in the hills by them that had a reason for it." + +"Do you suspect some one?" + +"I do," answered Ryan promptly. "If he was killed, two tinhorn +gamblers did it. If he's under guard in the hills, the Rutherford gang +have got him." + +"The Rutherfords, the same ones that--?" + +"The ver-ry same--Hal and Buck and a brood of young hellions they have +raised." + +"But why should they kidnap Mr. Dingwell? If they had anything against +him, why wouldn't they kill him?" + +"If the Rutherfords have got him it is because he knows something they +want to know. Listen, and I'll tell you what I think." + +The Irishman drew up a chair and told Beaudry the story of that night +in the Legal Tender as far as he could piece it together. He had +talked with one of the poker-players, the man that owned the curio +store, and from him had gathered all he could remember of the talk +between Dingwell and Rutherford. + +"Get these points, lad," Ryan went on. "Dave comes to town from a long +day's ride. He tells Rutherford that he has been prospecting and has +found gold in Lonesome Park. Nothing to that. Dave is a cattleman, +not a prospector. Rutherford knows that as well as I do. But he falls +right in with Dingwell's story. He offers to go partners with Dave on +his gold mine--keeps talking about it--insists on going in with him." + +"I don't see anything in that," said Roy. + +"You will presently. Keep it in mind that there wasn't any gold mine +and couldn't have been. That talk was a blind to cover something else. +Good enough. Now chew on this awhile. Dave sent a Mexican to bring +the sheriff, but Sweeney didn't come. He explained that he wanted to +go partners with Sweeney about this gold-mine proposition. If he was +talking about a real gold mine, that is teetotally unreasonable. +Nobody would pick Sweeney for a partner. He's a fathead and Dave +worked against him before election. But Sweeney _is sheriff of +Washington County_. Get that?" + +"I suppose you mean that Dingwell had something on the Rutherfords and +was going to turn them over to the law." + +"You're getting warm, boy. Does the hold-up of the Pacific Flyer help +you any?" + +Roy drew a long breath of surprise. "You mean the Western Express +robbery two weeks ago?" + +"Sure I mean that. Say the Rutherford outfit did that job." + +"And that Dingwell got evidence of it. But then they would kill him." +The heart of the young man sank. He had a warm place in it for this +unknown friend who had paid his law-school expenses. + +"You're forgetting about the gold mine Dave claimed to have found in +Lonesome Park. Suppose he was hunting strays and saw them cache their +loot somewhere. Suppose he dug it up. Say they knew he had it, but +didn't know where he had taken it. They couldn't kill him. They would +have to hold him prisoner till they could make him tell where it was." + +The young lawyer shook his head. "Too many _ifs_. Each one makes a +weak joint in your argument. Put them all together and it is full of +holes. Possible, but extremely improbable." + +An eager excitement flashed in the blue eyes of the Irishman. + +"You're looking at the thing wrong end to. Get a grip on your facts +first. The Western Express Company was robbed of twenty thousand +dollars and the robbers were run into the hills. The Rutherford outfit +is the very gang to pull off that hold-up. Dave tells Hal Rutherford, +the leader of the tribe, that he has sent for the sheriff. Hal tries +to get him to call it off. Dave talks about a gold mine he has found +and Rutherford tries to fix up a deal with him. There's no _if_ about +any of that, me young Sherlock Holmes." + +"No, you've built up a case. But there's a stronger case already built +for us, isn't there? Dingwell exposed the gamblers Blair and Smith, +knocked one of them cold, made them dig up a lot of money, and drove +them out of town. They left, swearing vengeance. He rides away, and +he is never seen again. The natural assumption is that they lay in +wait for him and killed him." + +"Then where is the body?" + +"Lying out in the cactus somewhere--or buried in the sand." + +"That wouldn't be a bad guess--if it wasn't for another bit of +testimony that came in to show that Dave was alive five hours after he +left the Legal Tender. A sheepherder on the Creosote Flats heard the +sound of horses' hoofs early next morning. He looked out of his tent +and saw three horses. Two of the riders carried rifles. The third +rode between them. He didn't carry any gun. They were a couple of +hundred yards away and the herder didn't recognize any of the men. But +it looked to him like the man without the gun was a prisoner." + +"Well, what does that prove?" + +"If the man in the middle was Dave--and that's the hunch I'm betting on +to the limit--it lets out the tinhorns. Their play would be to kill +and make a quick getaway. There wouldn't be any object in their taking +a prisoner away off to the Flats. If this man was Dave, Blair and +Smith are eliminated from the list of suspects. That leaves the +Rutherfords." + +"But you don't know that this was Dingwell." + +"That's where you come in, me brave Sherlock. Dave's friends can't +move to help him. You see, they're all known men. It might be the end +of Dave if they lifted a finger. But you're not known to the +Rutherfords. You slip in over Wagon Wheel Gap to Huerfano Park, pick +up what you can, and come out to Battle Butte with your news." + +"You mean--spy on them?" + +"Of coorse." + +"But what if they suspected me?" + +"Then your heirs at law would collect the insurance," Ryan told him +composedly. + +Excuses poured out of young Beaudry one on top of another. "No, I +can't go. I won't mix up in it. It's not my affair. Besides, I can't +get away from my business." + +"I see your business keeps you jumping," dryly commented the Irishman. +"And you know best whether it's your affair." + +Beaudry could have stood it better if the man had railed at him, if he +had put up an argument to show why he must come to the aid of the +friend who had helped him. This cool, contemptuous dismissal of him +stung. He began to pace the room in rising excitement. + +"I hate that country up there. I've got no use for it. It killed my +mother just as surely as it did my father. I left there when I was a +child, but I'll never forget that dreadful day seventeen years ago. +Sometimes I wake in bed out of some devil's nightmare and live it over. +Why should I go back to that bloody battleground? Hasn't it cost me +enough already? It's easy for you to come and tell me to go to +Huerfano Park--" + +"Hold your horses, Mr. Beaudry. I'm not tellin' you to go. I've laid +the facts before ye. Go or stay as you please." + +"That's all very well," snapped back the young man. "But I know what +you'll think of me if I don't go." + +"What you'll think of yourself matters more. I haven't got to live +with ye for forty years." + +Roy Beaudry writhed. He was sensitive and high-strung. +Temperamentally he coveted the good opinion of those about him. +Moreover, he wanted to deserve it. No man had ever spoken to him in +just the tone of this little Irish cowpuncher, who had come out of +nowhere into his life and brought to him his first big problem for +decision. Even though the man had confessed himself a rustler, the +young lawyer could not escape his judgment. Pat Ryan might have ridden +on many lawless trails in his youth, but the dynamic spark of +self-respect still burned in his soul. He was a man, every inch of his +five-foot three. + +"I want to live at peace," the boy went on hotly. "Huerfano Park is +still in the dark ages. I'm no gunman. I stand for law and order. +This is the day of civilization. Why should I embroil myself with a +lot of murderous outlaws when what I want is to sit here and make +friends--?" + +The Irishman hammered his fist on the table and exploded. "Then sit +here, damn ye! But why the hell should any one want to make friends +with a white-livered pup like you? I thought you was Jack Beaudry's +son, but I'll niver believe it. Jack didn't sit on a padded chair and +talk about law and order. By God, no! He went out with a six-gun and +made them. No gamer, whiter man ever strapped a forty-four to his hip. +_He_ niver talked about what it would cost him to go through for his +friends. He just went the limit without any guff." + +Ryan jingled out of the room in hot scorn and left one young peace +advocate in a turmoil of emotion. + +Young Beaudry did not need to discuss with himself the ethics of the +situation. A clear call had come to him on behalf of the man who had +been his best friend, even though he had never met him. He must answer +that call, or he must turn his back on it. Sophistry would not help at +all. There were no excuses his own mind would accept. + +But Royal Beaudry had been timid from his childhood. He had inherited +fear. The shadow of it had always stretched toward him. His cheeks +burned with shame to recall that it had not been a week since he had +looked under the bed at night before getting in to make sure nobody was +hidden there. What was the use of blinking the truth? He was a born +coward. It was the skeleton in the closet of his soul. His schooldays +had been haunted by the ghost of dread. Never in his life had he +played truant, though he had admired beyond measure the reckless little +dare-devils who took their fun and paid for it. He had contrived to +avoid fights with his mates and thrashings from the teachers. On the +one occasion when public opinion had driven him to put up his fists, he +had been saved from disgrace only because the bully against whom he had +turned proved to be an arrant craven. + +He remembered how he had been induced to go out and try for the +football team at the university. His fellows knew him as a fair +gymnast and a crack tennis player. He was muscular, well-built, and +fast on his feet, almost perfectly put together for a halfback. On the +second day of practice he had shirked a hard tackle, though it happened +that nobody suspected the truth but himself. Next morning he turned in +his suit with the plea that he had promised his aunt not to play. + +Now trepidation was at his throat again, and there was no escape from a +choice that would put a label on him. It had been his right to play +football or not as he pleased. But this was different. A summons had +come to his loyalty, to the fundamental manhood of him. If he left +David Dingwell to his fate, he could never look at himself again in the +glass without knowing that he was facing a dastard. + +The trouble was that he had too much imagination. As a child he had +conjured dragons out of the darkness that had no existence except in +his hectic fancy. So it was now. He had only to give his mind play to +see himself helpless in the hands of the Rutherfords. + +But he was essentially stanch and generous. Fate had played him a +scurvy trick in making him a trembler, but he knew it was not in him to +turn his back on Dingwell. No matter how much he might rebel and +squirm he would have to come to time in the end. + +After a wretched afternoon he hunted up Ryan at his hotel. + +"When do you want me to start?" he asked sharply. + +The little cowpuncher was sitting in the lobby reading a newspaper. He +took one look at the harassed youth and jumped up. + +"Say, you're all right. Put her there." + +Royal's cold hand met the rough one of Ryan. The shrewd eyes of the +Irishman judged the other. + +"I knew youse couldn't be a quitter and John Beaudry's son," he +continued. "Why, come to that, the sooner you start the quicker." + +"I'll have to change my name." + +"Sure you will. And you'd better peddle something--insurance, or +lightning rods, or 'The Royal Gall'ry of Po'try 'n Art' or--" + +"'Life of the James and Younger Brothers.' That ought to sell well +with the Rutherfords," suggested Roy satirically, trying to rise to the +occasion. + +"Jess Tighe and Dan Meldrum don't need any pointers from the James +Boys." + +"Tighe and Meldrum-- Who are they?" + +"Meldrum is a coyote your father trapped and sent to the pen. He's a +bad actor for fair. And Tighe--well, if you put a hole in his head +you'd blow out the brains of the Rutherford gang. For hiven's sake +don't let Jess know who you are. All of sivinteen years he's been a +cripple on crutches, and 't was your father that laid him up the day of +his death. He's a rivingeful divil is Jess." + +Beaudry made no comment. It seemed to him that his heart was of +chilled lead. + + + + +Chapter V + +The Hill Girl + +The Irish cowpuncher guided young Royal Beaudry through Wagon Wheel Gap +himself. They traveled in the night, since it would not do for the two +to be seen together. In the early morning Ryan left the young man and +turned back toward Battle Butte. The way to Huerfano Park, even from +here, was difficult to find, but Roy had a map drawn from memory by Pat. + +"I'll not guarantee it," the little rider had cautioned. "It's been +many a year since I was in to the park and maybe my memory is playing +tricks. But it's the best I can do for you." + +Beaudry spent the first half of the day in a pine grove far up in the +hills. It would stir suspicion if he were seen on the road at dawn, +for that would mean that he must have come through the Gap in the +night. So he unsaddled and stretched himself on the sun-dappled ground +for an hour or two's rest. He did not expect to sleep, even though he +had been up all night. He was too uneasy in mind and his nerves were +too taut. + +But it was a perfect day of warm spring sunshine. He looked up into a +blue unflecked sky. The tireless hum of insects made murmurous music +all about him. The air was vocal with the notes of nesting birds. His +eyes closed drowsily. + +When he opened them again, the sun was high in the heavens. He saddled +and took the trail. Within the hour he knew that he was lost. Either +he had mistaken some of the landmarks of Ryan's sketchy map or else the +cowpuncher had forgotten the lay of the country. + +Still, Roy knew roughly the general direction of Huerfano Park. If he +kept going he was bound to get nearer. Perhaps he might run into a +road or meet some sheepherder who would put him on the right way. + +He was in the heart of the watershed where Big Creek heads. +Occasionally from a hilltop he could see the peaks rising gaunt in +front of him. Between him and them were many miles of tangled +mesquite, wooded canons, and hills innumerable. Somewhere among the +recesses of these land waves Huerfano Park was hidden. + +It was three o'clock by Royal's watch when he had worked to the top of +a bluff which looked down upon a wooded valley. His eyes swept the +landscape and came to rest upon an object moving slowly in the +mesquite. He watched it incuriously, but his interest quickened when +it came out of the bushes into a dry water-course and he discovered +that the figure was that of a human being. The person walked with an +odd, dragging limp. Presently he discerned that the traveler below was +a woman and that she was pulling something after her. For perhaps +fifty yards she would keep going and then would stop. Once she +crouched down over her load. + +Roy cupped his hands at his mouth and shouted. The figure straightened +alertly and looked around. He called to her again. His voice must +have reached her very faintly. She did not try to answer in words, but +fired twice with a revolver. Evidently she had not yet seen him. + +That there was something wrong Beaudry felt sure. He did not know +what, nor did he waste any time speculating about it. The easiest +descent to the valley was around the rear of the bluff, but Roy +clambered down a heavily wooded gulch a little to the right. He saved +time by going directly. + +When Roy saw the woman again he was close upon her. She was stooped +over something and her back and arms showed tension. At sound of his +approach she flung up quickly the mass of inky black hair that had +hidden her bent face. As she rose it became apparent that she was tall +and slender, and that the clear complexion, just now at least, was +quite without color. + +Moving forward through the underbrush, Beaudry took stock of this dusky +nymph with surprise. In her attitude was something wild and free and +proud. It was as if she challenged his presence even though she had +summoned him. Across his mind flashed the thought that this was woman +primeval before the conventions of civilization had tamed her to its +uses. + +Her intent eyes watched him steadily as he came into the open. + +"Who are you?" she demanded. + +"I was on the bluff and saw you. I thought you were in trouble. You +limped as if--" + +He stopped, amazed. For the first time he saw that her foot was caught +in a wolf trap. This explained the peculiarity of gait he had noticed +from above. She had been dragging the heavy Newhouse trap and the clog +with her as she walked. One glance at her face was enough to show how +greatly she was suffering. + +Fortunately she was wearing a small pair of high-heeled boots such as +cowpunchers use, and the stiff leather had broken the shock of the blow +from the steel jaws. Otherwise the force of the released spring must +have shattered her ankle. + +"I can't quite open the trap," she explained. "If you will help me--" + +Roy put his weight on the springs and removed the pressure of the jaws. +The girl drew out her numb leg. She straightened herself, swayed, and +clutched blindly at him. Next moment her body relaxed and she was +unconscious in his arms. + +He laid her on the moss and looked about for water. There was some in +his canteen, but that was attached to the saddle on the top of the +bluff. For present purposes it might as well have been at the North +Pole. He could not leave her while she was like this. But since he +had to be giving some first aid, he drew from her foot the boot that +had been in the steel trap, so as to relieve the ankle. + +Her eyelids fluttered, she gave a deep sigh, and looked with a +perplexed doubt upon the world to which she had just returned. + +"You fainted," Roy told her by way of explanation. + +The young woman winced and looked at her foot. The angry color flushed +into her cheeks. Her annoyance was at herself, but she visited it upon +him. + +"Who told you to take off my boot?" + +"I thought it might help the pain." + +She snatched up the boot and started to pull it on, but gave this up +with a long breath that was almost a groan. + +"I'm a nice kind of a baby," she jeered. + +"It must hurt like sixty," he ventured. Then, after momentary +hesitation: "You'd better let me bind up your ankle. I have water in +my canteen. I'll run up and get some as soon as I'm through." + +There was something of sullen suspicion in the glance her dark eyes +flashed at him. + +"You can get me water if you want to," she told him, a little +ungraciously. + +He understood that his offer to tie up the ankle had been refused. +When he returned with his horse twenty minutes later, he knew why she +had let him go for the water. It had been the easiest way to get rid +of him for the time. The fat bulge beneath her stocking showed that +she had taken advantage of his absence to bind the bruised leg herself. + +"Is it better now--less painful?" he asked. + +She dismissed his sympathy with a curt little nod. "I'm the biggest +fool in Washington County. We've been setting traps for wolves. +They've been getting our lambs. I jumped off my horse right into this +one. Blacky is a skittish colt and when the trap went off, he bolted." + +He smiled a little at the disgust she heaped upon herself. + +"You'll have to ride my horse to your home. How far is it?" + +"Five miles, maybe." The girl looked at her ankle resentfully. It was +plain that she did not relish the idea of being under obligations to +him. But to attempt to walk so far was out of the question. Even now +when she was not using the foot she suffered a good deal of pain. + +"Cornell isn't a bit skittish. He's an old plug. You'll find his gait +easy," Beaudry told her. + +If she had not wanted to keep her weight from the wounded ankle, she +would have rejected scornfully his offer to help her mount, for she was +used to flinging her lithe body into the saddle as easily as her +brothers did. The girl had read in books of men aiding women to reach +their seat on the back of a horse, but she had not the least idea how +the thing was done. Because of her ignorance she was embarrassed. The +result was that they boggled the business, and it was only at the third +attempt that he got her on as gracefully as if she had been a sack of +meal. + +"Sorry. I'm awfully awkward," he apologized. + +Again an angry flush stained her cheeks. The stupidity had been hers, +not his. She resented it that he was ready to take the blame,--read +into his manner a condescension he did not at all feel. + +"I know whose fault it was. I'm not a fool," she snapped brusquely. + +It added to her irritation at making such an exhibition of clumsiness +that she was one of the best horsewomen in the Territory. Her life had +been an outdoor one, and she had stuck to the saddle on the back of +many an outlaw bronco without pulling leather. There were many things +of which she knew nothing. The ways of sophisticated women, the +conventions of society, were alien to her life. She was mountain-bred, +brought up among men, an outcast even from the better class of Battle +Butte. But the life of the ranch she knew. That this soft-cheeked boy +from town should think she did not know how to get on a horse was a +little too humiliating. Some day, if she ever got a chance, she would +let him see her vault into the saddle without touching the stirrups. + +The young man walking beside the horse might still be smooth-cheeked, +but he had the muscles of an athlete. He took the hills with a light, +springy step and breathed easily after stiff climbing. His mind was +busy making out what manner of girl this was. She was new to his +experience. He had met none like her. That she was a proud, sulky +creature he could easily guess from her quickness at taking offense. +She resented even the appearance of being ridiculous. Her acceptance +of his favors carried always the implication that she hated him for +offering them. It was a safe guess that back of those flashing eyes +were a passionate temper and an imperious will. + +It was evident that she knew the country as a teacher knows the primer +through which she leads her children. In daylight or in darkness, with +or without a trail, she could have followed almost an air-line to the +ranch. The paths she took wound in and out through unsuspected gorges +and over divides that only goats or cow-ponies could have safely +scrambled up and down. Hidden pockets had been cached here so +profusely by nature that the country was a maze. A man might have +found safety from pursuit in one of these for a lifetime if he had been +provisioned. + +"Where were you going when you found me?" the young woman asked. + +"Up to the mountain ranches of Big Creek. I was lost, so we ought to +put it that you found me," Beaudry answered with the flash of a +pleasant smile. + +"What are you going to do up there?" Her keen suspicious eyes watched +him warily. + +"Sell windmills if I can. I've got the best proposition on the market." + +"Why do you come away up here? Don't you know that the Big Creek +headwaters are off the map?" + +"That's it exactly," he replied. "I expect no agents get up here. +It's too hard to get in. I ought to be able to sell a whole lot easier +than if I took the valleys." He laughed a little, by way of taking her +into his confidence. "I'll tell the ranchers that if they buy my +windmills it will put Big Creek on the map." + +"They won't buy them," she added with a sudden flare of temper. "This +country up here is fifty years behind the times. It doesn't want to be +modern." + +Over a boulder bed, by rock fissures, they came at last to a sword gash +in the top of the world. It cleft a passage through the range to +another gorge, at the foot of which lay a mountain park dotted with +ranch buildings. On every side the valley was hemmed in by giant peaks. + +"Huerfano Park?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"You live here?" + +"Yes." She pointed to a group of buildings to the left. "That is my +father's place. They call it the 'Horse Ranch.'" + +He turned startled eyes upon her. "Then you are--?" + +"Beulah Rutherford, the daughter of Hal Rutherford." + + + + +Chapter VI + +"Cherokee Street" + +She was the first to break the silence after her announcement. + +"What's the matter? You look as if you had seen a ghost." + +He had. The ghost of a dreadful day had leaped at him out of the past. +Men on murder bent were riding down the street toward their victim. At +the head of that company rode her father; the one they were about to +kill was his. A wave of sickness shuddered through him. + +"It--it's my heart," he answered in a smothered voice. "Sometimes it +acts queer. I'll be all right in a minute." + +The young woman drew the horse to a halt and looked down at him. Her +eyes, for the first time since they had met, registered concern. + +"The altitude, probably. We're over nine thousand feet high. You're +not used to walking in the clouds. We'll rest here." + +She swung from the saddle and trailed the reins. + +"Sit down," the girl ordered after she had seated herself +tailor-fashion on the moss. + +Reluctantly he did as he was told. He clenched his teeth in a cold +rage at himself. Unless he conquered that habit of flying into panic +at every crisis, he was lost. + +Beulah leaned forward and plucked an anemone blossom from a rock +cranny. "Isn't it wonderful how brave they are? You wouldn't think +they would have courage to grow up so fine and delicate among the rocks +without any soil to feed them." + +Often, in the days that followed, he thought of what she had said about +the anemones and applied it to herself. She, too, had grown up among +the rocks spiritually. He could see the effect of the barren soil in +her suspicious and unfriendly attitude toward life. There was in her +manner a resentment at fate, a bitterness that no girl of her years +should have felt. In her wary eyes he read distrust of him. Was it +because she was the product of heredity and environment? Her people +had outlawed themselves from society. They had lived with their hands +against the world of settled order. She could not escape the law that +their turbulent sins must be visited upon her. + +Young Beaudry followed the lead she had given him. "Yes, that is the +most amazing thing in life--that no matter how poor the soil and how +bad the conditions fine and lovely things grow up everywhere." + +The sardonic smile on her dark face mocked him. "You find a sermon in +it, do you?" + +"Don't you?" + +She plucked the wild flower out by the roots. "It struggles--and +struggles--and blooms for a day--and withers. What's the use?" she +demanded, almost savagely. Then, before he could answer, the girl +closed the door she had opened for him. "We must be moving. The sun +has already set in the valley." + +His glances swept the park below. Heavily wooded gulches pushed down +from the roots of the mountains that girt Huerfano to meet the fences +of the ranchers. The cliffs rose sheer and bleak. The panorama was a +wild and primitive one. It suggested to the troubled mind of the young +man an eagle's nest built far up in the crags from which the great bird +could swoop down upon its victims. He carried the figure farther. +Were these hillmen eagles, hawks, and vultures? And was he beside them +only a tomtit? He wished he knew. + +"Were you born here?" he asked, his thoughts jumping back to the girl +beside him. + +"Yes." + +"And you've always lived here?" + +"Except for one year when I went away to school." + +"Where?" + +"To Denver." + +The thing he was thinking jumped into words almost unconsciously. + +"Do you like it here?" + +"Like it?" Her dusky eyes stabbed at him. "What does it matter +whether I like it? I have to live here, don't I?" + +The swift parry and thrust of the girl was almost ferocious. + +"I oughtn't to have put it that way," he apologized. "What I meant +was, did you like your year outside at school?" + +Abruptly she rose. "We'll be going. You ride down. My foot is all +right now." + +"I wouldn't think of it," he answered promptly. "You might injure +yourself for life." + +"I tell you I'm all right," she said, impatience in her voice. + +To prove her claim she limped a few yards slowly. In spite of a +stubborn will the girl's breath came raggedly. Beaudry caught the +bridle of the horse and followed her. + +"Don't, please. You might hurt yourself," he urged. + +She nodded. "All right. Bring the horse close to that big rock." + +From the boulder she mounted without his help. Presently she asked a +careless question. + +"Why do you call him Cornell? Is it for the college?" + +"Yes. I went to school there a year." He roused himself to answer +with the proper degree of lightness. "At the ball games we barked in +chorus a rhyme: 'Cornell I yell--yell--yell--Cornell.' That's how it +is with this old plug. If I want to get anywhere before the day after +to-morrow, I have to yell--yell--yell." + +The young woman showed in a smile a row of white strong teeth. "I see. +His real name is Day-After-To-Morrow, but you call him Cornell for +short. Why not just Corn? He would appreciate that, perhaps." + +"You've christened him, Miss Rutherford. Corn he shall be, henceforth +and forevermore." + +They picked their way carefully down through the canon and emerged from +it into the open meadow. The road led plain, and straight to the horse +ranch. Just before they reached the house, a young man cantered up +from the opposite direction. + +He was a black-haired, dark young giant of about twenty-four. Before +he turned to the girl, he looked her companion over casually and +contemptuously. + +"Hello, Boots! Where's your horse?" he asked. + +"Bolted. Hasn't Blacky got home yet?" + +"Don't know. Haven't been home. Get thrown?" + +"No. Stepped into one of your wolf traps." She turned to include +Beaudry. "This gentleman--Mr.--?" + +Caught at advantage, Roy groped wildly for the name he had chosen. His +mind was a blank. At random he snatched for the first that came. It +happened to be his old Denver address. + +"Cherokee Street," he gasped. + +Instantly he knew he had made a mistake. + +"That's odd," Beulah said. "There's a street called Cherokee in +Denver. Were you named for it?" + +He lied, not very valiantly. "Yes, I--I think so. You see, I was born +on it, and my parents--since their name was Street, anyhow,--thought it +a sort of distinction to give me that name. I've never much liked it." + +The girl spoke to the young man beside her. "Mr. Street helped me out +of the trap and lent me his horse to get home. I hurt my leg." She +proceeded to introductions. "Mr. Street, this is my brother, Jeff +Rutherford." + +Jeff nodded curtly. He happened to be dismounting, so he did not offer +to shake hands. Over the back of the horse he looked at his sister's +guest without comment. Again he seemed to dismiss him from his mind as +of no importance. When he spoke, it was to Beulah. + +"That's a fool business--stepping into wolf traps. How did you come to +do it?" + +"It doesn't matter how. I did it." + +"Hurt any?" + +She swung from the saddle and limped a few steps. "Nothing to make any +fuss about. Dad home?" + +"Yep. Set the trap again after you sprung it, Boots?" + +"No. Set your own traps," she flung over her shoulder. "This way, Mr. +Street." + +Roy followed her to the house and was ushered into a room where a young +man sat cleaning a revolver with one leg thrown across a second chair. +Tilted on the back of his head was a cowpuncher's pinched-in hat. He +too had black hair and a black mustache. Like all the Rutherfords he +was handsome after a fashion, though the debonair recklessness of his +good looks offered a warning of temper. + +"'Lo, Boots," he greeted his sister, and fastened his black eyes on her +guest. + +Beaudry noticed that he did not take off his hat or lift his leg from +the chair. + +"Mr. Street, this is my brother Hal. I don't need to tell you that he +hasn't been very well brought up." + +Young Rutherford did not accept the hint. "My friends take me as they +find me, sis. Others can go to Guinea." + +Beulah flushed with annoyance. She drew one of the gauntlets from her +hand and with the fingers of it flipped the hat from the head of her +brother. Simultaneously her foot pushed away the chair upon which his +leg rested. + +He jumped up, half inclined to be angry. After a moment he thought +better of it, and grinned. + +"I'm not the only member of the family shy on manners, Boots," he said. +"What's the matter with you? Showing off before company?" + +"I'd have a fine chance with you three young rowdies in the house," she +retorted derisively. "Where's dad?" + +As if in answer to her question the door opened to let in a big, +middle-aged rancher with a fine shock of grizzled hair and heavy black +eyebrows. Beulah went through the formula of introduction again, but +without it Beaudry would have known this hawk-nosed man whose gaze +bored into his. The hand he offered to Hal Rutherford was cold and +clammy. A chill shiver passed through him. + +The young woman went on swiftly to tell how her guest had rescued her +from the wolf trap and walked home beside her while she rode his horse. + +"I'll send for Doc Spindler and have him look at your ankle, honey," +the father announced at once. + +"Oh, it's all right--bruised up a bit--that's all," Beulah objected. + +"We'll make sure, Boots. Slap a saddle on and ride for the Doc, Hal." +When the young man had left the room, his father turned again to Roy. +His arm gathered in the girl beside him. "We're sure a heap obliged to +you, Mr. Street. It was right lucky you happened along." + +To see the father and daughter together was evidence enough of the +strong affection that bound them. The tone in which he had spoken to +his son had been brusque and crisp, but when he addressed her, his +voice took on a softer inflection, his eyes betrayed the place she held +in his heart. + +The man looked what he was--the chief of a clan, the almost feudal +leader of a tribe which lived outside the law. To deny him a certain +nobility of appearance was impossible. Young Beaudry guessed that he +was arrogant, but this lay hidden under a manner of bluff frankness. +One did not need a second glance to see from whom the younger +Rutherfords had inherited their dark, good looks. The family likeness +was strong in all of them, but nature had taken her revenge for the +anti-social life of the father. The boys had reverted toward savagery. +They were elemental and undisciplined. This was, perhaps, true of +Beulah also. There were moments when she suggested in the startled +poise of her light body and the flash of her quick eyes a wild young +creature of the forest set for night. But in her case atavism +manifested itself charmingly in the untamed grace of a rich young +personality vital with life. It was an interesting speculation whether +in twenty years she would develop into a harridan or a woman of unusual +character. + +The big living-room of the ranch house was a man's domain. A +magnificent elk head decorated one of the walls. Upon the antlers +rested a rifle and from one of the tines depended a belt with a +six-shooter in its holster. A braided leather quirt lay on the table +and beside it a spur one of the boys had brought in to be riveted. +Tossed carelessly into one corner were a fishing-rod and a creel. A +shotgun and a pair of rubber waders occupied the corner diagonally +opposite. + +But there were evidences to show that Beulah had modified at least her +environment. An upright piano and a music-rack were the most +conspicuous. Upon the piano was a padded-covered gift copy of "Aurora +Leigh." A similar one of "In Memoriam" lay on the mantel next to a +photograph of the girl's dead mother framed in small shells. These +were mementoes of Beulah's childhood. A good copy of Del Sarto's John +the Baptist hanging from the wall and two or three recent novels +offered an intimation that she was now beyond shell frames and +padded-leather editions. + +Miss Rutherford hobbled away to look after her ankle and to give orders +for supper to the ranch cook. Conversation waned. The owner of the +place invited Roy out to look over with him a new ram he had just +imported from Galloway. The young man jumped at the chance. He knew +as much about sheep as he did of Egyptian hieroglyphics, but he +preferred to talk about the mange rather than his reasons for visiting +Huerfano Park. + +Just at present strangers were not welcome in the park. Rutherford +himself was courteous on account of the service he had done Beulah, but +the boys were frankly suspicious. Detectives of the express company +had been poking about the hills. Was this young fellow who called +himself Street a spy sent in by the Western? While Beaudry ate supper +with the family, he felt himself under the close observation of four +pairs of watchful eyes. + +Afterward a young man rode into the ranch and another pair of eyes was +added to those that took stock of the guest. Brad Charlton said he had +come to see Ned Rutherford about a gun, but Ned's sister was the real +reason for his call. This young man was something of a dandy. He wore +a Chihuahua hat and the picturesque trappings with which the Southwest +sometimes adorns itself. The fine workmanship of the saddle, bridle, +and stirrups was noticeable. His silk handkerchief, shirt, and boots +were of the best. There was in his movements an easy and graceful +deliberation, but back of his slowness was a chill, wary strength. + +Roy discovered shortly that Charlton was a local Admirable Crichton. +He was known as a crack rider, a good roper, and a dead shot. +Moreover, he had the reputation of being ready to fight at the drop of +the hat. To the Rutherford boys he was a hero. Whether he was one +also to Beulah her guest had not yet learned, but it took no wiseacre +to guess that he wanted to be. + +As soon as the eyes of Charlton and Beaudry met there was born between +them an antagonism. Jealousy sharpened the suspicions of the young +rancher. He was the sort of man that cannot brook rivalry. That the +newcomer had been of assistance to Miss Rutherford was enough in itself +to stir his doubts. + +He set himself to verify them. + + + + +Chapter VII + +Jess Tighe Spins a Web + +"Then you left Denver, did you?" asked Charlton suavely. + +Roy laughed. "Yes, then I left Denver and went to college and shouted, +'Rah, rah, rah, Cornell.' In time I became a man and put away childish +things. Can I sell you a windmill, Mr. Charlton, warranted to raise +more water with less air pressure than any other in the market?" + +"Been selling windmills long?" the rancher asked casually. + +It was his ninth question in fifteen minutes. Beaudry knew that he was +being cross-examined and his study of law had taught him that he had +better stick to the truth so far as possible. He turned to Miss +Rutherford. + +"Your friend is bawling me out," he gayly pretended to whisper. "I +never sold a windmill in my life. But I'm on my uppers. I've got a +good proposition. This country needs the Dynamo Aermotor and I need +the money. So I took the agency. I have learned a fifteen minutes' +spiel. It gives seven reasons why Mr. Charlton will miss half the joy +of life until he buys a Dynamo. Do you think he is a good prospect, +Miss Rutherford?" + +"Dad has been talking windmill," she said. "Sell him one." + +"So has Jess Tighe," Charlton added. He turned to Jeff Rutherford. +"Couldn't you take Mr. Street over to see Jess to-morrow morning?" + +Jeff started promptly to decline, but as his friend's eyes met his he +changed his mind. "I guess I could, maybe." + +"I don't want to trouble you, Mr. Rutherford," objected Roy. + +Something in the manner of Charlton annoyed Beulah. This young man was +her guest. She did not see any reason why Brad should bombard him with +questions. + +"If Jeff is too busy I'll take you myself," she told Beaudry. + +"Oh, Jeff won't be too busy. He can take a half-day off," put in his +father. + +When Charlton left, Beulah followed him as far as the porch. + +"Do you think Mr. Street is a horse-thief that you ask him so many +questions?" she demanded indignantly. + +He looked straight at her. "I don't know what he is, Beulah, but I'm +going to find out." + +"Isn't it possible that he is what he says he is?" + +"Sure it's possible, but I don't believe it." + +"Of course, I know you like to think the worst of a man, but when you +meet him in my house I'll thank you to treat him properly. I vouch for +him." + +"You never met him before this afternoon." + +"That's my business. It ought to be enough for you that he is my +guest." + +Charlton filled in the ellipsis. "If it isn't I can stay away, can't +I? Well, I'm not going to quarrel with you, Beulah. Good-night." + +As soon as he was out of sight of the ranch, Charlton turned the head +of his horse, not toward his own place, but toward that of Jess Tighe. + +Dr. Spindler drove up while Beulah was still on the porch. He examined +the bruised ankle, dressed it, and pronounced that all it needed was a +rest. No bones were broken, but the ligaments were strained. For +several days she must give up riding and walking. + +The ankle pained a good deal during the night, so that its owner slept +intermittently. By morning she was no longer suffering, but was far +too restless to stay in the house. + +"I'm going to drive Mr. Street over to the Tighe place in the buggy," +she announced at breakfast. + +Her brothers exchanged glances. + +"Think you'd better go so far with your bad ankle, honey?" Hal +Rutherford, senior, asked. + +"It doesn't make any difference, dad, so long as I don't put my weight +on it." + +She had her way, as she usually did. One of the boys hitched up and +brought the team to the front of the house. Beaudry took the seat +beside Beulah. + +The girl gathered up the reins, nodded good-bye to her father, and +drove off. + +It was such a day as comes not more than a dozen times a season even in +New Mexico. The pure light from the blue sky and the pine-combed air +from the hills were like wine to their young blood. Once when the road +climbed a hilltop the long saw-toothed range lifted before them, but +mostly they could not see beyond the bastioned ramparts that hemmed in +the park or the nearer wooded gulches that ran down from them. + +Beulah had brought her camera. They took pictures of each other. They +gathered wild flowers. They talked as eagerly as children. Somehow +the bars were down between them. The girl had lost the manner of +sullen resentment that had impressed him yesterday. She was gay and +happy and vivid. Wild roses bloomed in her cheeks. For this young man +belonged to the great world outside in which she was so interested. +Other topics than horses and cattle and drinking-bouts were the themes +of his talk. He had been to theaters and read books and visited large +cities. His coming had enriched life for her. + +The trail took them past a grove of young aspens which blocked the +mouth of a small canon by the thickness of the growth. + +"Do you see any way in?" Beulah asked her companion. + +"No. The trees are like a wall. There is not an open foot by which +one could enter." + +"Isn't there?" She laughed. "There's a way in just the same. You see +that big rock over to the left. A trail drops down into the aspens +back of it. A man lives in the gulch, an ex-convict. His name is Dan +Meldrum." + +"I expect he isn't troubled much with visitors."' + +"No. He lives alone. I don't like him. I wish he would move away. +He doesn't do the park any good." + +A man was sitting on the porch of the Tighe place as they drove up. +Beside him lay a pair of crutches. + +"That is Jess," the girl told Beaudry. "Don't mind if he is gruff or +bad-tempered. He is soured." + +But evidently this was not the morning for Tighe to be gruff. He came +to meet them on his crutches, a smile on his yellow, sapless face. +That smile seemed to Roy more deadly than anger. It did not warm the +cold, malignant eyes nor light the mordant face with pleasure. Only +the lips and mouth responded mechanically to it. + +"Glad to see you, Miss Beulah. Come in." + +He opened the gate and they entered. Presently Beaudry, his blood +beating fast, found himself shaking hands with Tighe. The man had an +odd trick of looking at one always from partly hooded eyes and at an +angle. + +"Mr. Street is selling windmills," explained Miss Rutherford. "Brad +Charlton said you were talking of buying one, so here is your chance." + +"Yes, I been thinking of it." Tighe's voice was suave. "What is your +proposition, Mr. Street?" + +Roy talked the Dynamo Aermotor for fifteen minutes. There was +something about the still look of this man that put him into a cold +sweat. + +It was all he could do to concentrate his attention on the patter of a +salesman, but he would not let his mind wander from the single track +upon which he was projecting it. He knew he was being watched closely. +To make a mistake might be fatal. + +"Sounds good. I'll look your literature over, Mr. Street. I suppose +you'll be in the park a few days?" + +"Yes." + +"Then you can come and see me again. I can't come to you so easy, +Mr.--er--" + +"Street," suggested Beulah. + +"That's right--Street. Well, you see I'm kinder tied down." He +indicated his crutches with a little lift of one hand. "Maybe Miss +Beulah will bring you again." + +"Suits me fine if she will," Beaudry agreed promptly. + +The half-hooded eyes of the cripple slid to the girl and back again to +Roy. He had a way of dry-washing the backs of his hands like Uriah +Heep. + +"Fine. You'll stay to dinner, now, of course. That's good. That's +good. Young folks don't know how it pleasures an old man to meet up +with them sometimes." His low voice was as smooth as oil. + +Beaudry conceived a horror of the man. The veiled sneer behind the +smile on the sapless face, the hooded hawk eyes, the almost servile +deference, held a sinister threat that chilled the spine of his guest. +The young man thought of him as of a repulsive spider spinning a web of +trouble that radiated from this porch all over the Big Creek country. + +"Been taking pictures of each other, I reckon. Fine. Fine. Now, I +wonder, Miss Beulah, if you'd do an old man a favor. This porch is my +home, as you might say, seeing as how I'm sorter held down here. I'd +kinder like a picture of it to hang up, providing it ain't asking too +much of you." + +"Of course not. I'll take it now," answered the girl. + +"That's right good of you. I'll jest sit here and be talking to Mr. +Street, as you might say. Wouldn't that make a good picture--kinder +liven up the porch if we're on it?" + +Roy felt a sudden impulse to protest, but he dared not yield to it. +What was it this man wanted of the picture? Why had he baited a trap +to get a picture of him without Beulah Rutherford knowing that he +particularly wanted it? While the girl took the photograph, his mind +was racing for Tighe's reason. + +"I'll send you a copy as soon as I print it, Mr. Tighe," promised +Beulah. + +"I'll sure set a heap of store by it, Miss Beulah. . . . If you don't +mind helping me set the table, we'll leave Mr. Street this old +newspaper for a few minutes whilst we fix up a snack. You'll excuse +us, Mr. Street? That's good." + +Beulah went into the house the same gay and light-hearted comrade of +Beaudry that she had been all morning. When he was called in to +dinner, he saw at once that Tighe had laid his spell upon her. She was +again the sullen, resentful girl of yesterday. Suspicion filmed her +eyes. The eager light of faith in him that had quickened them while +she listened for his answers to her naive questions about the great +world was blotted out completely. + +She sat through dinner in cold silence. Tighe kept the ball of +conversation rolling and Beaudry tried to play up to him. They talked +of stock, crops, and politics. Occasionally the host diverted the talk +to outside topics. He asked the young man politely how he liked the +park, whether he intended to stay long, how long he had lived in New +Mexico, and other casual questions. + +Roy was glad when dinner was over. He drew a long breath of relief +when they had turned their backs upon the ranch. But his spirits did +not register normal even in the spring sunshine of the hills. For the +dark eyes that met his were clouded with doubt and resentment. + + + + +Chapter VIII + +Beulah Asks Questions + +A slim, wiry youth in high-heeled boots came out of the house with Brad +Charlton just as the buggy stopped at the porch of the horse ranch. He +nodded to Beulah. + +"'Lo, sis." + +"My brother Ned--Mr. Street." The girl introduced them a little +sulkily. + +Ned Rutherford offered Roy a coffee-brown hand and looked at him with +frank curiosity. He had just been hearing a lot about this +good-looking stranger who had dropped into the park. + +"See Jess Tighe? What did he say about the windmill?" asked Charlton. + +"Wanted to think it over," answered Beaudry. + +Beulah had drawn her brother to one side, but as Roy talked with +Charlton he heard what the other two said, though each spoke in a low +voice. + +"Where you going, Ned?" the sister asked. + +"Oh, huntin' strays." + +"Home to-night?" + +"Reckon not." + +"What deviltry are you and Brad up to now? This will be the third +night you've been away--and before that it was Jeff." + +"S-sh!" Ned flashed a warning look in the direction of her guest. + +But Beulah was angry. Tighe had warned her to be careful what she told +Street. She distrusted the cripple profoundly. Half the evil that +went on in the park was plotted by him. There had been a lot of +furtive whispering about the house for a week or more. Her instinct +told her that there was in the air some discreditable secret. More +than once she had wondered whether her people had been the express +company robbers for whom a reward was out. She tried to dismiss the +suspicion from her mind, for the fear of it was like a leaden weight at +her heart. But many little things contributed to the dread. +Rutherford had sent her just at that time to spend the week at Battle +Butte. Had it been to get her out of the way? She remembered that her +father had made to her no explanation of that scene in which she and +Dave Dingwell had played the leading parts. There had been many +journeyings back and forth on the part of the boys and Charlton and her +uncle, Buck Rutherford. They had a way of getting off into a corner of +the corral and talking low for hours at a time. And now Street had +come into the tangle. Were they watching him for fear he might be a +detective? + +Her resentment against him and them boiled over into swift wrath. +"You're a fine lot--all of you. I'd like to wash my hands clean of the +whole outfit." She turned on her heel and strode limping to the house. + +Ned laughed as he swung to the back of one of the two broncos waiting +with drooped heads before the porch. He admired this frank, forthright +sister who blazed so handsomely into rage. He would have fought for +her, even though he pretended to make a joke of her. + +"Boots sure goes some. You see what you may be letting yourself in +for, Brad," he scoffed good-naturedly. + +Charlton answered with cool aplomb. "Don't you worry about me, Ned. I +travel at a good lick myself. She'll break to double harness fine." + +Without touching the stirrup this knight of the _chaparreras_ flung +himself into the saddle, the rowels of his spurs whirring as he +vaulted. It was a spectacular but perfect mount. The horse was off +instantly at a canter. + +Roy could not deny the fellow admiration, even though he despised him +for what he had just said. It was impossible for him to be +contemptuous of Charlton. The man was too virile, too game for that. +In the telling Western phrase, he would go through. Whatever he did +was done competently. + +Yet there was something detestable in the way he had referred to Beulah +Rutherford. In the first place, Roy believed it to be a pure +assumption that he was going to marry her. Then, too, he had spoken of +this high-spirited girl as if she were a colt to be broken and he the +man to wield the whip. Her rebellion against fate meant nothing more +to him than a tantrum to be curbed. He did not in the least divine the +spiritual unrest back of her explosion. + +Beaudry shrugged his shoulders. He was lucky for once. It had been +the place of Ned Rutherford to rebuke Charlton for his slighting +remark. A stranger had not the least right to interfere while the +brother of the girl was present. Roy did not pursue the point any +further. He did not want to debate with himself whether he had the +pluck to throw down the gauntlet to this fighting _vaquero_ if the call +had come to him. + +As he walked into the house and up to his room, his mind was busy with +another problem. Where had Ned Rutherford been for three nights and +his brother Jeff before that? Why had Beulah flared into unexpected +anger? He, too, had glimpsed furtive whisperings. Even a fool would +have understood that he was not a welcome guest at the horse ranch, and +that his presence was tolerated only because here the boys could keep +an eye on him. He was under surveillance. That was plain. He had +started out for a little walk before breakfast and Jeff joined him from +nowhere in particular to stroll along. What was it the Huerfano Park +settlers were trying to hide from him? His mind jumped promptly to the +answer. Dave Dingwell, of course. + +Meanwhile Miss Rutherford lay weeping in the next room face down upon +the bed. She rarely indulged in tears. It had not happened before +since she was seventeen. But now she sobbed into a pillow, softly, so +that nobody might hear. Why must she spend her life in such +surroundings? If the books she read told the truth, the world was full +of gentle, kindly people who lived within the law and respected each +other's rights. Why was it in her horoscope to be an outcast? Why +must she look at everybody with bitterness and push friendship from her +lest it turn to poison at her touch? For one hour she had found joy in +comradeship with this stranger. Then Tighe had whispered it that he +was probably a spy. She had returned home only to have her doubts +about her own family stirred to life again. Were there no good, honest +folk in the world at all? + +She washed her telltale eyes and ventured downstairs to look after +supper. The Mexican cook was already peeling the potatoes. She gave +him directions about the meal and went out to the garden to get some +radishes and lettuce. On the way she had to pass the corral. Her +brother Hal, Slim Sanders, and Cherokee Street were roping and branding +some calves. The guest of the house had hung his coat and hat on a +fence-post to keep them from getting soiled, but the hat had fallen +into the dust. + +Beulah picked up the hat and brushed it. As she dusted with her +handkerchief the under side of the rim her eyes fell upon two initials +stamped into the sweat pad. The letters were "R.B." The owner of the +hat called himself Cherokee Street. Why, then, should he have these +other initials printed on the pad? There could be only one answer to +that question. He was passing under a name that was not his own. + +If so, why? Because he was a spy come to get evidence against her +people for the express company. + +The eyes of the girl blazed. The man had come to ruin her father, to +send her brothers to prison, and he was accepting their hospitality +while he moled for facts to convict them. To hear the shout of his gay +laughter as a calf upset him in the dust was added fuel to the fire of +her anger. If he had looked as villainous as Dave Meldrum, she could +have stood it better, but any one would have sworn that he was a clean, +decent young fellow just out of college. + +She called to him. Roy glanced up and came across the corral. His +sleeves were rolled to the elbows and the shirt open at the throat. +Flowing muscles rippled under the white skin of his forearms as he +vaulted the fence to stand beside her. He had the graceful poise of an +athlete and the beautiful, trim figure of youth. + +Yet he was a spy. Beulah hardened her heart. + +"I found your hat in the dust, Mr. Street." She held it out to him +upside down, the leather pad lifted by her finger so that the letters +stood out. + +The rigor of her eyes was a challenge. For a moment, before he caught +sight of the initials, he was puzzled at her stiffness. Then his heart +lost a beat and hammered wildly. His brain was in a fog and he could +find no words of explanation. + +"It is your hat, isn't it, Mr.--Street?" + +"Yes." He took it from her, put it on, and gulped "Thanks." + +She waited to give him a chance to justify himself, but he could find +no answer to the charge that she had fixed upon him. Scornfully she +turned from him and went to the house. + +Miss Rutherford found her father reading a week-old newspaper. + +"I've got fresher news than that for you, dad," she said. "I can tell +you who this man that calls himself Cherokee Street isn't." + +Rutherford looked up quickly. "You mean who he is, Boots." + +"No, I mean who he isn't. His name isn't Cherokee Street at all." + +"How do you know?" + +"Because he is wearing a hat with the initials 'R.B.' stamped in it. I +gave him a chance to explain and he only stammered and got white. He +hadn't time to think up a lie that would fit." + +"Dad burn it, Jess Tighe is right, then. The man is a spy." The +ranchman lit a cigar and narrowed his eyes in thought. + +"What is he spying here for?" + +"I reckon he's a detective of the express company nosing around about +that robbery. Some folks think it was pulled off by a bunch up in the +hills somewhere." + +"By the Rutherford gang?" she quoted. + +He looked at her uneasily. The bitterness in her voice put him on the +defensive. "Sho, Boots! That's just a way folks have of talking. +We've got our enemies. Lots of people hate us because we won't let any +one run over us." + +She stood straight and slender before him, her eyes fixed in his. "Do +they say we robbed the express company?" + +"They don't say it out loud if they do--not where I can hear them," he +answered grimly. + +"Did we?" she flung at him. + +His smile was forced. The question disturbed him. That had always +been her way, even when she was a small child, to fling herself +headlong at difficulties. She had never been the kind to be put off +with anything less than the truth. + +"I didn't. Did you?" he retorted. + +"How about the boys--and Uncle Buck--and Brad Charlton?" she demanded. + +"Better ask them if you want to know." With a flare of temper he +contradicted himself. "No, you'd better mind your own business, girl. +Forget your foolishness and 'tend to your knitting." + +"I suppose it isn't my business if my kin go to the penitentiary for +train robbery." + +"They're not going any such place. If you want to know, I give you my +word that none of us Rutherfords have got the gold stolen from the +Western Express Company." + +"And don't know where it is?" + +"Haven't the least idea--not one of us." + +She drew a deep breath of relief. More than once her father had kept +from her secrets of the family activities, but he had never lied to her. + +"Then it doesn't matter about this detective. He can find out nothing +against us," she reflected aloud. + +"I'm not so sure about that. We've had our troubles and we don't want +them aired. There was that shooting scrape Hal got into down at Battle +Butte, for instance. Get a little more evidence and the wrong kind of +a jury would send him up for it. No, we'll keep an eye on Mr. Cherokee +Street, or whatever his name is. Reckon I'll ride over and have a talk +with Jess about it." + +"Why not tell this man Street that he is not wanted and so be done with +it?" + +"Because we wouldn't be done with it. Another man would come in his +place. We'll keep him here where we can do a little detective work on +him, too." + +"I don't like it. The thing is underhanded. I hate the fellow. It's +not decent to sit at table with a man who is betraying our +hospitality," she cried hotly. + +"It won't be for long, honey. Just leave him to us. We'll hang up his +pelt to dry before we're through with him." + +"You don't mean--?" + +"No, nothing like that. But he'll crawl out of the park like a whipped +cur with its tail between its legs." + +The cook stood in the doorway. "Miss Beulah, do you want that meat +done in a pot roast?" he asked. + +"Yes. I'll show you." She turned at the door. "By the way, dad, I +took a snapshot of Mr. Tighe on his porch. I'll develop it to-night +and you can take it to him in the morning." + +"All right. Don't mention to anybody that matter we were discussing. +Act like you've forgotten all about what you found out, Boots." + +The girl nodded. "Yes." + + + + +Chapter IX + +The Man on the Bed + +Beulah Rutherford found it impossible to resume a relation of +friendliness toward her guest. By nature she was elemental and direct. +A few months earlier she had become the teacher of the Big Creek +school, but until that time life had never disciplined her to repress +the impulses of her heart. As a child she had been a fierce, wild +little creature full of savage affections and generosities. She still +retained more feminine ferocity than social usage permits her sex. It +was not in her to welcome an enemy with smiles while she hated him in +her soul. The best she could do was to hold herself to a brusque +civility whenever she met Beaudry. + +As for that young man, he was in a most unhappy frame of mind. He +writhed at the false position in which he found himself. It was bad +enough to forfeit the good opinion of this primitive young hill beauty, +but it was worse to know that in a measure he deserved it. He saw, +too, that serious consequences were likely to follow her discovery, and +he waited with nerves on the jump for the explosion. + +None came. When he dragged himself to dinner, Beulah was stiff as a +ramrod, but he could note no difference in the manner of the rest. Was +it possible she had not told her father? He did not think this likely, +and his heart was in panic all through the meal. + +Though he went to his room early, he spent a sleepless night full of +apprehension. What were the Rutherfords waiting for? He was convinced +that something sinister lay behind their silence. + +After breakfast the ranchman rode away. Jeff and Slim Sanders jogged +off on their cowponies to mend a broken bit of fence. Hal sat on the +porch replacing with rivets the torn strap of a stirrup. + +Beaudry could stand it no longer. He found his hostess digging around +the roots of some rosebushes in her small garden. Curtly she declined +his offer to take the spade. For a minute he watched her uneasily +before he blurted out his intention of going. + +"I'll move up to the other end of the park and talk windmill to the +ranchers there, Miss Rutherford. You've been awfully good to me, but I +won't impose myself on your hospitality any longer," he said. + +He had dreaded to make the announcement for fear of precipitating a +crisis, but the young woman made no protest. Without a word of comment +she walked beside him to the house. + +"Hal, will you get Mr. Street's horse?" she asked her brother. "He is +leaving this morning." + +Young Rutherford's eyes narrowed. It was plain that he had been caught +by surprise and did not know what to do. + +"Where you going?" he asked. + +"What do you care where he is going? Get the horse--or I will," she +ordered imperiously. + +"I'm going to board at one of the ranches farther up the park," +explained Roy. + +"Better wait till dad comes home," suggested Hal. + +"No, I'll go now." Royal Beaudry spoke with the obstinacy of a timid +man who was afraid to postpone the decision. + +"No hurry, is there?" The black eyes of Rutherford fixed him steadily. + +His sister broke in impatiently. "Can't he go when he wants to, Hal? +Get Mr. Street's horse." She whirled on Beaudry scornfully. "That is +what you call yourself, isn't it--Street?" + +The unhappy youth murmured "Yes." + +"Let him get his own horse if he wants to hit the trail in such a +hurry," growled Hal sulkily. + +Beulah walked straight to the stable. Awkwardly Beaudry followed her +after a moment or two. The girl was leading his horse from the stall. + +"I'll saddle him, Miss Rutherford," he demurred, the blanket in his +hand. + +She looked at him a moment, dropped the bridle, and turned stiffly +away. He understood perfectly that she had been going to saddle the +horse to justify the surface hospitality of the Rutherfords to a man +they despised. + +Hal was still on the porch when Roy rode up, but Beulah was nowhere in +sight. The young hillman did not look up from the rivet he was +driving. Beaudry swung to the ground and came forward. + +"I'm leaving now. I should like to tell Miss Rutherford how much I'm +in her debt for taking a stranger in so kindly," he faltered. + +"I reckon you took her in just as much as she did you, Mr. Spy." +Rutherford glowered at him menacingly. "I'd advise you to straddle +that horse and git." + +Roy controlled his agitation except for a slight trembling of the +fingers that grasped the mane of his cowpony. "You've used a word that +isn't fair. I didn't come here to harm any of your people. If I could +explain to Miss Rutherford--" + +She stood in the doorway, darkly contemptuous. Fire flashed in her +eyes, but the voice of the girl was coldly insolent. + +"It is not necessary," she informed him. + +Her brother leaned forward a little. His crouched body looked like a +coiled spring in its tenseness. "Explain yourself down that road, Mr. +Street--_pronto_," he advised. + +Beaudry flashed a startled glance at him, swung to the saddle, and was +away at a canter. The look in Rutherford's glittering eyes had sent a +flare of fear over him. The impulse of it had lifted him to the back +of the horse and out of the danger zone. + +But already he was flogging himself with his own contempt. He had +given way to panic before a girl who had been brought up to despise a +quitter. She herself had nerves as steady as chilled steel. He had +seen her clench her strong white little teeth without a murmur through +a long afternoon of pain. Gameness was one of the fundamentals of her +creed, and he had showed the white feather. It added to his +punishment, too, that he worshiped pluck with all the fervor of one who +knew he had none. Courage seemed to him the one virtue worth while; +cowardice the unpardonable sin. He made no excuses for himself. From +his father he inherited the fine tradition of standing up to punishment +to a fighting finish. His mother, too, had been a thoroughbred. Yet +he was a weakling. His heart pumped water instead of blood whenever +the call to action came. + +In dejection he rode up the valley, following the same hilly trail he +had taken two days before with Miss Rutherford. It took him past the +aspen grove at the mouth of the gulch which led to the Meldrum place. +Beyond this a few hundred yards he left the main road and went through +the chaparral toward a small ranch that nestled close to the timber. +Beulah had told him that it belonged to an old German named Rothgerber +who had lived there with his wife ever since she could remember. + +Rothgerber was a little wrinkled old man with a strong South-German +accent. After Beaudry had explained that he wanted board, the rancher +called his wife out and the two jabbered away excitedly in their native +tongue. The upshot of it was that they agreed to take the windmill +agent if he would room in an old bunkhouse about two hundred yards from +the main ranch building. This happened to suit Roy exactly and he +closed the matter by paying for a week in advance. + +The Rothgerbers were simple, unsuspecting people of a garrulous nature. +It was easy for Beaudry to pump information from them while he ate +supper. They had seen nothing of any stranger in the valley except +himself, but they dropped casually the news that the Rutherfords had +been going in and out of Chicito Canon a good deal during the past few +days. + +"Chicito Canon. That's a Mexican name, isn't it? Let's see. Just +where is this gulch?" asked Beaudry. + +The old German pointed out of the window. "There it iss, mein friend. +You pass by on the road and there iss no way in--no arroyo, no gulch, +no noddings but aspens. But there iss, shust the same, a trail. +Through my pasture it leads." + +"Anybody live up Chicito? I want everybody in the park to get a chance +to buy a Dynamo Aermotor before I leave." + +"A man named Meldrum. My advice iss--let him alone." + +"Why?" + +Rothgerber shook a pudgy forefinger in the air. "Mein friend--listen. +You are a stranger in Huerfano Park. Gut. But do not ask questions +about those who lif here. Me, I am an honest man. I keep the law. +Also I mind my own pusiness. So it iss with many. But there are +others--mind, I gif them no names, but--" He shrugged his shoulders +and threw out his hands, palm up. "Well, the less said the petter. If +I keep my tongue still, I do not talk myself into trouble. Not so, +Berta?" + +The pippin-cheeked little woman nodded her head sagely. + +In the course of the next few days Roy rode to and fro over the park +trying to sell his windmill to the ranchers. He secured two orders and +the tentative promise of others. But he gained no clue as to the place +where Dingwell was hidden. His intuition told him that the trail up +Chicito Canon would lead him to the captive cattleman. Twice he +skirted the dark gash of the ravine at the back of the pasture, but +each time his heart failed at the plunge into its unknown dangers. The +first time he persuaded himself that he had better make the attempt at +night, but when he stood on the brink in the darkness the gulf at his +feet looked like a veritable descent into Avernus. If he should be +caught down here, his fate would be sealed. What Meldrum and Tighe +would do to a spy was not a matter of conjecture. The thought of it +brought goose-quills to his flesh and tiny beads of perspiration to his +forehead. + +Still, the peril had to be faced. He decided to go up the canon in the +early morning before the travel of the day had begun. The night before +he made the venture he prepared an alibi by telling Mrs. Rothgerber +that he would not come to breakfast, as he wanted to get an early start +for his canvassing. The little German woman bustled about and wrapped +up for him a cold lunch to eat at his cabin in the morning. She liked +this quiet, good-looking young man whose smile was warm for a woman +almost old enough to be his grandmother. It was not often she met any +one with the charming deference he showed her. Somehow he reminded her +of her own Hans, who had died from the kick of a horse ten years since. + +Roy slept in broken cat-naps full of fearful dreams, from which he woke +in terror under the impression that he was struggling helplessly in the +net of a great spider which had the cruel, bloodless face of Tighe. It +was three o'clock when he rose and began to dress. He slipped out of +the cabin into the wet pasture. His legs were sopping wet from the +long grass through which he strode to the edge of the gulch. On a flat +boulder he sat shivering in the darkness while he waited for the first +gray streaks of light to sift into the dun sky. + +In the dim dawn he stumbled uncertainly down the trail into the canon, +the bottom of which was still black as night from a heavy growth of +young aspens that shut out the light. There was a fairly well-worn +path leading up the gulch, so that he could grope his way forward +slowly. His feet moved reluctantly. It seemed to him that his nerves, +his brain, and even his muscles were in revolt against the moral +compulsion that drove him on. He could feel his heart beating against +his ribs. Every sound startled him. The still darkness took him by +the throat. Doggedly he fought against the panic impulse to turn and +fly. + +If he quit now, he told himself, he could never hold his self-respect. +He thought of all those who had come into his life in connection with +the Big Creek country trouble. His father, his mother, Dave Dingwell, +Pat Ryan, Jess Tighe, the whole Rutherford clan, including Beulah! One +quality they all had in common, the gameness to see out to a finish +anything they undertook. He could not go through life a confessed +coward. The idea was intolerably humiliating. + +Then, out of the past, came to him a snatch of nonsense verse:-- + + "Li'l' ole hawss an' li'l' ole cow, + Amblin' along by the ole haymow, + Li'l' ole hawss took a bite an' a chew, + 'Durned if I don't,' says the ole cow, too." + +So vivid was his impression of the doggerel that for an instant he +thought he heard the sing-song of his father's tuneless voice. In +sharp, clean-cut pictures his memory reproduced the night John Beaudry +had last chanted the lullaby and that other picture of the Homeric +fight of one man against a dozen. The foolish words were a bracer to +him. He set his teeth and ploughed forward, still with a quaking soul, +but with a kind of despairing resolution. + +After a mile of stiff going, the gulch opened to a little valley on the +right-hand side. On the edge of a pine grove, hardly a stone's throw +from where Roy stood, a Mexican _jacal_ looked down into the canon. +The hut was a large one. It was built of upright poles daubed with +clay. Sloping poles formed the roof, the chinks of which were +waterproofed with grass. A wolf pelt, nailed to the wall, was hanging +up to dry. + +He knew that this was the home of Meldrum, the ex-convict. + +Beaudry followed a bed of boulders that straggled toward the pine +grove. It was light enough now, and he had to move with caution so as +to take advantage of all the cover he could find. Once in the grove, +he crawled from tree to tree. The distance from the nearest pine to +the jacal was about thirty feet. A clump of _cholla_ grew thick just +outside the window. Roy crouched behind the trunk for several minutes +before he could bring himself to take the chance of covering that last +ten yards. But every minute it was getting lighter. Every minute +increased the likelihood of detection. He crept fearfully to the hut, +huddled behind the cactus, and looked into the window. + +A heavy-set man, with the muscle-bound shoulders of an ape, was +lighting a fire in the stove. At the table, his thumbs hitched in a +sagging revolver belt, sat Ned Rutherford. The third person in the +room lay stretched at supple ease on a bed to one of the posts of which +his right leg was bound. He was reading a newspaper. + +"Get a move on you, Meldrum," young Rutherford said jauntily, with an +eye on his prisoner to see how he took it. "I've got inside +information that I need some hot cakes, a few slices of bacon, and a +cup of coffee. How about it, Dave? Won't you order breakfast, too?" + +The man on the bed shook his head indifferently. "Me, I'm taking the +fast cure. I been reading that we all eat too much, anyhow. What's +the use of stuffing--gets yore system all clogged up. Now, take +Edison--he don't eat but a handful of rice a day." + +"That's one handful more than you been eating for the past three days. +Better come through with what we want to know. This thing ain't going +to get any better for you. A man has got to eat to live." + +"I'm trying out another theory. Tell you-all about how it works in a +week or so. I reckon after a time I'll get real hungry, but it don't +seem like I could relish any chuck yet." The cattleman fell to +perusing his paper once more. + +Royal Beaudry had never met his father's friend, Dave Dingwell, but he +needed no introduction to this brown-faced man who mocked his guard +with such smiling hardihood. They were trying to starve the secret out +of him. Already his cheek showed thin and gaunt, dark circles shadowed +the eyes. The man, no doubt, was suffering greatly, yet his manner +gave no sign of it. He might not be master of his fate; at least, he +was very much the captain of his soul. Pat Ryan had described him in a +sentence. "One hundred and ninety pounds of divil, and ivery ounce of +ivery pound true gold." There could not be another man in the Big +Creek country that this description fitted as well as it did this +starving, jocund dare-devil on the bed. + +The savory odor of bacon and of coffee came through the open window to +Beaudry where he crouched in the chaparral. He heard Meldrum's brusque +"Come and get it," and the sound of the two men drawing up their chairs +to the table. + +"What's the use of being obstinate, Dave?" presently asked Rutherford +from amid a pleasant chink of tin cups, knives, and forks. "I'd a heap +rather treat you like a white man. This 'Pache business doesn't make a +hit with me. But I'm obeying orders. Anyhow, it's up to you. The +chuck-wagon is ready for you whenever you say the word." + +"I don't reckon I'll say it, Ned. Eating is just a habit. One man +wants his eggs sunny side up; another is strong for them hard-boiled. +But eggs is eggs. When Dan went visitin' at Santa Fe, he likely +changed his diet. For two or three days he probably didn't like the +grub, then--" + +With a raucous curse the former convict swung round on him. A revolver +seemed to jump to his hand, but before he could fire, young Rutherford +was hanging to his wrist. + +"Don't you, Dan. Don't you," warned Ned. + +Slowly Meldrum's eyes lost their savage glare. "One o' these days I'll +pump lead into him unless he clamps that mouth of his'n. I won't stand +for it." His voice trailed into a string of oaths. + +Apparently his host's fury at this reference to his convict days did +not disturb in the least the man on the bed. His good-natured drawl +grew slightly more pronounced. "Wall yore eyes and wave yore tail all +you've a mind to, Dan. I was certainly some indiscreet reminding you +of those days when you was a guest of the Government." + +"That's enough," growled Meldrum, slamming his big fist down on the +table so that the tinware jumped. + +"Sure it's enough. Too much. Howcome I to be so forgetful? If I'd +wore a uniform two years for rustling other folks' calves, I reckon I +wouldn't thank a guy--" + +But Meldrum had heard all he could stand. He had to do murder or get +out. He slammed the coffee-pot down on the floor and bolted out of the +open door. His arms whirled in violent gestures as he strode away. An +unbroken stream of profanity floated back to mark his anabasis. + +Meldrum did not once look round as he went on his explosive way to the +gulch, but Roy Beaudry crouched lower behind the cactus until the man +had disappeared. Then he crawled back to the grove, slipped through +it, and crept to the shelter of the boulder bed. + +It would not do for him to return down the canon during daylight, for +fear he might meet one of the Rutherfords coming to relieve Ned. He +passed from one boulder to another, always working up toward the wall +of the gulch. Behind a big piece of sandstone shaped like a flatiron +he lay down and waited for the hours to pass. + +It was twilight when he stole down to the trail and began his return +journey. + + + + +Chapter X + +Dave Takes a Ride + +Dave Dingwell had sauntered carelessly out of the Legal Tender on the +night of his disappearance. He was apparently at perfect ease with a +friendly world. But if any one had happened to follow him out of the +saloon, he would have seen an odd change in the ranchman. He slid +swiftly along the wall of the building until he had melted into the +shadows of darkness. His eyes searched the neighborhood for lurking +figures while he crouched behind the trunk of a cottonwood. Every +nerve of the man was alert, every muscle ready for action. One brown +hand lingered affectionately close to the butt of his revolver. + +He had come out of the front door of the gambling-house because he knew +the Rutherfords would expect him, in the exercise of ordinary common +sense, to leave by the rear exit. That he would be watched was +certain. Therefore, he had done the unexpected and walked boldly out +through the swinging doors. + +As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he made out a horse in +the clump of trees about twenty yards to the left. Whether it was +Teddy he could not be sure, but there was no time to lose. Already a +signal whistle had shrilled out from the other side of the street. +Dave knew this was to warn the guards at the rear of the Legal Tender +that their prey was in the open. + +He made a dash for the tree clump, but almost as he reached it, he +swung to the left and circled the small grove so as to enter it from +the other side. As he expected, a man whirled to meet him. The +unforeseen tactics of Dingwell had interfered with the ambush. + +Dave catapulted into him head first and the two went down together. +Before Dingwell could grip the throat of the man beneath him, a second +body hurled itself through space at the cattleman. The attacked man +flattened under the weight crushing him, but his right arm swept around +and embraced the neck of his second assailant. He flexed his powerful +forearm so as to crush as in a vice the throat of his foe between it +and the hard biceps. The breath of the first man had for the moment +been knocked out of him and he was temporarily not in the fight. The +ranchman gave his full attention to the other. + +The fellow struggled savagely. He had a gun in his right hand, but the +fingers of Dave's left had closed upon the wrist above. Stertorous +breathing gave testimony that the gunman was in trouble. In spite of +his efforts to break the hold that kept his head in chancery, the +muscles of the arm tightened round his neck like steel ropes drawn +taut. He groaned, sighed in a ragged expulsion of breath, and suddenly +collapsed. + +Before he relaxed his muscles, Dingwell made sure that the surrender +was a genuine one. His left hand slid down and removed the revolver +from the nerveless fingers. The barrel of it was jammed against the +head of the man above him while the rancher freed himself from the +weight of the body. Slowly the cattleman got to his feet. + +Vaguely he had been aware already that men were running toward the tree +clump. Now he heard the padding of their feet close at hand. He ran +to the horse and flung himself into the saddle, but before the animal +had moved two steps some one had it by the bridle. Another man caught +Dingwell by the arm and dragged him from the saddle. Before Dave could +scramble to his feet again, something heavy fell upon his head and +shook him to the heels. A thousand lights flashed in zigzags before +his eyes. He sank back into unconsciousness. + +The cowman returned to a world of darkness out of which voices came as +from a distance hazily. A groan prefaced his arrival. + +"Dave's waking up," one of the far voices said. + +"Sure. When you tap his haid with a six-gun, you're liable to need +repairs on the gun," a second answered. + +The next words came to Dingwell more distinctly. He recognized the +speaker as Hal Rutherford of the horse ranch. + +"Too bad the boy had to hand you that crack, Dave. You're such a bear +for fighting a man can't take any chances. Glad he didn't bust your +haid wide open." + +"Sure he didn't?" asked the injured man. "I feel like I got to hold it +on tight so as to keep the blamed thing from flying into fifty pieces." + +"Sorry. We'll take you to a doc and have it fixed up. Then we'll all +go have a drunk. That'll fix you." + +"Business first," cut in Buck Rutherford. + +"That's right, Dave," agreed the owner of the horse ranch. "How about +that gunnysack? Where did you hide it?" + +Dingwell played for time. He had not the least intention of telling, +but if he held the enemy in parley some of his friends might pass that +way. + +"What gunnysack, Hal? Jee-rusalem, how my head aches!" He held his +hands to his temples and groaned again. + +"Your head will mend--if we don't have to give it another crack," Buck +told him grimly. "Get busy, Dave. We want that gold--_pronto_. Where +did you put it?" + +"Where _did_ I put it? That willing lad of yours has plumb knocked the +answer out of my noodle. Maybe you're thinking of some one else, +Buck." Dingwell looked up at him with an innocent, bland smile. + +"Come through," ordered Buck with an oath. + +The cattleman treated them to another dismal groan. "Gee! I feel like +the day after Christmas. Was it a cannon the kid hit me with?" + +Meldrum pushed his ugly phiz to the front. "Don't monkey away any +time, boys. String him to one of these cottonwoods till he spits out +what we want." + +"Was it while you was visiting up at Santa Fe you learnt that habit of +seeing yore neighbors hanged, Dan?" drawled Dingwell in a voice of +gentle irony. + +Furious at this cool reference to his penitentiary days, Meldrum kicked +their captive in the ribs. Hal Rutherford, his eyes blazing, caught +the former convict by the throat. + +"Do that again and I'll hang yore hide up to dry." He shook Meldrum as +if he were a child, then flung the gasping man away. "I'll show you +who's boss of this _rodeo_, by gum!" + +Meldrum had several notches on his gun. He was, too, a +rough-and-tumble fighter with his hands. But Hal Rutherford was one +man he knew better than to tackle. He fell back, growling threats in +his throat. + +Meanwhile Dave was making discoveries. One was that the first two men +who had attacked him were the gamblers he had driven from the Legal +Tender earlier in the evening. The next was that Buck Rutherford was +sending the professional tinhorns about their business. + +"Git!" ordered the big rancher. "And keep gitting till you've crossed +the border. Don't look back any. Jest burn the wind. _Adios_." + +"They meant to gun you, Dave," guessed the owner of the horse ranch. +"I reckon they daren't shoot with me loafing there across the road. +You kinder disarranged their plans some more by dropping in at their +back door. Looks like you'd 'a' rumpled up their hair a few if you +hadn't been in such a hurry to make a get-away. Which brings us back +to the previous question. The unanimous sense of the meeting is that +you come through with some information, Dave. Where is that gunnysack?" + +Dave, still sitting on the ground, leaned his back against a tree and +grinned amiably at his questioner. "Sounds like you-all been to school +to a parrot. You must 'a' quituated after you learned one sentence." + +"We're waiting for an answer, Dave." + +The cool, steady eyes of Dingwell met the imperious ones of the other +man in a long even gaze. "Nothing doing, Hal." + +"Even split, Dave. Fifty-fifty." + +The sitting man shook his head. "I'll split the reward with you when I +get it. The sack goes back to the express company." + +"We'll see about that." Rutherford turned to his son and gave brisk +orders. "Bring up the horses. We'll get out of here. You ride with +me, Jeff. We'll take care of Dingwell. The rest of you scatter. +We're going back to the park." + +The Rutherfords and their captive followed no main road, but cut across +country in a direction where they would be less likely to meet +travelers. It was a land of mesquite and prickly pear. The sting of +the cactus bit home in the darkness as its claws clutched at the riders +winding their slow way through the chaparral. + +Gray day was dawning when they crossed the Creosote Flats and were seen +by a sheep-herder at a distance. The sun was high in the heavens +before they reached the defile which served as a gateway between the +foothills and the range beyond. It had passed the meridian by the time +they were among the summits where they could look back upon rounded +hills numberless as the billows of a sea. Deeper and always deeper +they plunged into the maze of canons which gashed into the saddles +between the peaks. Blue-tinted dusk was enveloping the hills as they +dropped down through a wooded ravine into Huerfano Park. + +"Home soon," Dave suggested cheerfully to his captors. "I sure am +hungry enough to eat a government mailsack. A flank steak would make a +big hit with me." + +Jeff looked at him in the dour, black Rutherford way. "This is no +picnic, you'll find." + +"Not to you, but it's a great vacation for me. I feel a hundred per +cent better since I got up into all this ozone and scenery." Dingwell +assured him hardily. "A man ought to take a trip like this every once +in a while. It's great for what ails him." + +Young Rutherford grunted sulkily. Their prisoner was the coolest +customer he had ever met. The man was no fool. He must know he was in +peril, but his debonair, smiling _insouciance_ never left him for a +moment. He was grit clear through. + + + + +Chapter XI + +Tighe Weaves his Web Tighter + +The hooded eyes of Jess Tighe slanted across the table at his visitor. +Not humor but mordant irony had given birth to the sardonic smile on +his thin, bloodless lips. + +"I reckon you'll be glad to know that you've been entertaining an angel +unawares, Hal," he jeered. "I've been looking up your handsome young +friend, and I can tell you what the 'R.B.' in his hat stands for in +case you would be interested to know." + +The owner of the horse ranch gave a little nod. "Unload your +information, Jess." + +Tighe leaned forward for emphasis and bared his teeth. If ever +malevolent hate was written on a face it found expression on his now. + +"'R.B.' stands for Royal Beaudry." + +Rutherford flashed a question at him from startled eyes. He waited for +the other man to continue. + +"You remember the day we put John Beaudry out of business?" asked Tighe. + +"Yes. Go on." Hal Rutherford was not proud of that episode. In the +main he had fought fair, even though he had been outside the law. But +on the day he had avenged the death of his brother Anson, the feud +between him and the sheriff had degenerated to murder. A hundred times +since he had wished that he had gone to meet the officer alone. + +"He had his kid with him. Afterward they shipped him out of the +country to an aunt in Denver. He went to school there. Well, I've had +a little sleuthing done." + +"And you've found out--?" + +"What I've told you." + +"How?" + +"He said his name was Cherokee Street, but Jeff told me he didn't act +like he believed himself. When yore girl remembered there was a street +of that name in Denver, Mr. Cherokee Street was plumb rattled. He seen +he'd made a break. Well, you saw that snapshot Beulah took of him and +me on the porch. I sent it to a detective agency in Denver with orders +to find out the name of the man that photo fitted. My idea was for the +manager to send a man to the teachers of the high schools, beginning +with the school nearest Cherokee Street. He done it. The third +schoolmarm took one look at the picture and said the young fellow was +Royal Beaudry. She had taught him German two years. That's howcome I +to know what that 'R.B.' in the hat stands for." + +"Perhaps it is some other Beaudry." + +"Take another guess," retorted the cripple scornfully. "Right off when +I clapped eyes on him, I knew he reminded me of somebody. I know now +who it was." + +"But what's he doing up here?" asked the big man. + +The hawk eyes of Tighe glittered. "What do you reckon the son of John +Beaudry would be doing here?" He answered his own question with bitter +animosity. "He's gathering evidence to send Hal Rutherford and Jess +Tighe to the penitentiary. That's what he's doing." + +Rutherford nodded. "Sure. What else would he be doing if he is a chip +of the old block? That's where his father's son ought to put us if he +can." + +Tighe beat his fist on the table, his face a map of appalling fury and +hate. "Let him go to it, then. I've been a cripple seventeen years +because Beaudry shot me up. By God! I'll gun his son inside of +twenty-four hours. I'll stomp him off'n the map like he was a +rattlesnake." + +"No," vetoed Rutherford curtly. + +"What! What's that you say?" snarled the other. + +"I say he'll get a run for his money. If there's any killing to be +done, it will be in fair fight." + +"What's ailing you?" sneered Tighe. "Getting soft in your upper story? +Mean to lie down and let that kid run you through to the pen like his +father did Dan Meldrum?" + +"Not in a thousand years," came back Rutherford. "If he wants war, he +gets it. But I'll not stand for any killing from ambush, and no +killing of any kind unless it has to be. Understand?" + +"That sounds to me," purred the smaller man in the Western slang that +phrased incredulity. Then, suddenly, he foamed at the mouth. "Keep +out of this if you're squeamish. Let me play out the hand. I'll bump +him off _pronto_." + +"No, Jess." + +"What do you think I am?" screamed Tighe. "Seventeen years I've been +hog-tied to this house because of Beaudry. Think I'm going to miss my +chance now? If he was Moody and Sankey rolled into one, I'd go through +with it. And what is he--a spy come up here to gather evidence against +you and me! Didn't he creep into your house so as to sell you out when +he got the goods? Hasn't he lied from start to finish?" + +"Maybe so. But he has no proof against us yet. We'll kick him out of +the park. I'm not going to have his blood on my conscience. That's +flat, Jess." + +The eyes in the bloodless face of the other man glittered, but he put a +curb on his passion. "What about me, Hal? I've waited half a lifetime +and now my chance has come. Have you forgot who made me the misshaped +thing I am? I haven't. I'll go through hell to fix Beaudry's cub the +way he did me." His voice shook from the bitter intensity of his +feeling. + +Rutherford paced up and down the room in a stress of sentiency. "No, +Jess. I know just how you feel, but I'm going to give this kid his +chance. We gunned Beaudry because he wouldn't let us alone. Either he +or a lot of us had to go. But I'll say this. I never was satisfied +with the way we did it. When Jack Beaudry shot you up, he was fighting +for his life. We attacked him. You got no right to hold it against +his son." + +"I don't ask you to come in. I'll fix his clock all right." + +"Nothing doing. I won't have it." Rutherford, by a stroke of +strategy, carried the war into the country of the other. "I gave way +to you about Dingwell, though I hated to try that Indian stuff on him. +He's a white man. I've always liked him. It's a rotten business." + +"What else can you do? We daren't turn him loose. You don't want to +gun him. There is nothing left but to tighten the thumbscrews." + +"It won't do any good," protested the big man with a frown. "He's +game. He'll go through. . . . And if it comes to a showdown, I won't +have him starved to death." + +Tighe looked at him through half-hooded, cruel eyes. "He'll weaken. +Another day or two will do it. Don't worry about Dingwell." + +"There's not a yellow streak in him. You haven't a chance to make him +quit." Rutherford took another turn up and down the room diagonally. +"I don't like this way of fighting. It's--damnable, man! I won't have +any harm come to Dave or to the kid either. I stand pat on that, Jess." + +The man with the crutches swallowed hard. His Adam's apple moved up +and down like an agitated thermometer. When he spoke it was in a +smooth, oily voice of submission, but Rutherford noticed that the +rapacious eyes were hooded. + +"What you say goes, Hal. You're boss of this round-up. I was jest +telling you how it looked to me." + +"Sure. That's all right, Jess. But you want to remember that public +sentiment is against us. We've pretty near gone our limit up here. If +there was no other reason but that, it would be enough to make us let +this young fellow alone. We can't afford a killing in the park now." + +Tighe assented, almost with servility. But the cattleman carried away +with him a conviction that the man had yielded too easily, that his +restless brain would go on planning destruction for young Beaudry just +the same. + +He was on his way up Chicito Canon and he stopped at Rothgerber's ranch +to see Beaudry. The young man was not at home. + +"He start early this morning to canfass for his vindmill," the old +German explained. + +After a moment's thought Rutherford left a message. "Tell him it isn't +safe for him to stay in the park; that certain parties know who 'R.B.' +is and will sure act on that information. Say I said for him to come +and see me as soon as he gets back. Understand? Right away when he +reaches here." + +The owner of the horse ranch left his mount in the Rothgerber corral +and passed through the pasture on foot to Chicito. Half an hour later +he dropped into the _jacal_ of Meldrum. + +He found the indomitable Dingwell again quizzing Meldrum about his +residence at Santa Fe during the days he wore a striped uniform. The +former convict was grinding his teeth with fury. + +"I reckon you won't meet many old friends when you go back this time, +Dan. Maybe there will be one or two old-timers that will know you, but +it won't be long before you make acquaintances," Dave consoled him. + +"Shut up, or I'll pump lead into you," he warned hoarsely. + +The cattleman on the bed shook his head. "You'd like to fill me full +of buckshot, but it wouldn't do at all, Dan. I'm the goose that lays +the golden eggs, in a way of speaking. Gun me, and it's good-bye to +that twenty thousand in the gunnysack." He turned cheerfully to +Rutherford, who was standing in the doorway. "Come right in, Hal. +Glad to see you. Make yourself at home." + +"He's deviling me all the time," Meldrum complained to the owner of the +horse ranch. "I ain't a-going to stand it." + +Rutherford looked at the prisoner, a lean, hard-bitten Westerner with +muscles like steel ropes and eyes unblinking as a New Mexico sun. His +engaging recklessness had long since won the liking of the leader of +the Huerfano Park outlaws. + +"Don't bank on that golden egg business, Dave," advised Rutherford. +"If you tempt the boys enough, they're liable to forget it. You've +been behaving mighty aggravating to Dan." + +"Me!" Dave opened his eyes in surprise. "I was just asking him how +he'd like to go back to Santa Fe after you-all turn me loose." + +"We're not going to turn you loose till we reach an agreement. What's +the use of being pigheaded? We're looking for that gold and we're +going to find it mighty soon. Now be reasonable." + +"How do you know you're going to find it?" + +"Because we know you couldn't have taken it far. Here's the point. +You had it when Fox made his getaway. Beulah was right behind you, so +we know you didn't get a chance to bury it between there and town. We +covered your tracks and you didn't leave the road in that half-mile. +That brings you as far as Battle Butte. You had the gunnysack when you +crossed the bridge. You didn't have it when Slim Sanders met you. So +you must have got rid of it in that distance of less than a quarter of +a mile. First off, I figured you dropped the sack in Hague's alfalfa +field. But we've tramped that all over. It's not there. Did you meet +some one and give it to him? Or how did you get rid of it?" + +"I ate it," grinned Dingwell confidentially. + +"The boys are getting impatient, Dave. They don't like the way you +butted in." + +"That's all right. You're responsible for my safety, Hal. I'll let +you do the worrying." + +"Don't fool yourself. We can't keep you here forever. We can't let +you go without an agreement. Figure out for yourself what's likely to +happen?" + +"Either my friends will rescue me, or else I'll escape." + +"Forget it. Not a chance of either." Rutherford stopped, struck by an +idea. "Ever hear of a young fellow called Cherokee Street?" + +"No. Think not. Is he a breed?" + +"White man." Rutherford took a chair close to Dingwell. He leaned +forward and asked another question in a low voice. "Never happened to +meet the son of John Beaudry, did you?" + +Dingwell looked at him steadily out of narrowed eyes. "I don't get +you, Hal. What has he got to do with it?" + +"Thought maybe you could tell me that. He's in the park now." + +"In the park?" + +"Yes--and Jess Tighe knows it." + +"What's he doing here?" + +But even as he asked the other man, Dingwell guessed the answer. Not +an hour before he had caught a glimpse of a white, strained face at the +window. He knew now whose face it was. + +"He's spying on us and sleuthing for evidence to send us to the pen. +Think he'd be a good risk for an insurance company?" + +Dave thought fast. "I don't reckon you're right. I put the kid +through law school. My friends have likely sent him up here to look +for me." + +Rutherford scoffed. "Nothing to that. How could they know you are +here? We didn't advertise it." + +"No-o, but--" Dingwell surrendered the point reluctantly. He flashed +a question at Rutherford. "Tighe will murder him. That's sure. You +going to let him?" + +"Not if I can help it. I'm going to send young Beaudry out of the +park." + +"Fine. Don't lose any time about it, Hal." + +The Huerfano Park rancher made one more attempt to shake his prisoner. +His dark eyes looked straight into those of Dingwell. + +"Old-timer, what about you? I ain't enjoying this any more than you +are. But it's clear out of my hands." + +"Then why worry?" asked Dingwell, a little grin on his drawn face. + +"Hell! What's the use of asking that? I'm no Injun devil," barked +Rutherford irritably. + +"Turn me loose and I'll forget all I've seen. I won't give you the +loot, but I'll not be a witness against you." + +The Huerfano Park ranchman shook his head. "No, we want that gold, +Dave. You butted into our game and we won't stand for that." + +"I reckon we can't make a deal, Hal." + +The haggard eyes of the starving man were hard as tungsten-washed +steel. They did not yield a jot. + +A troubled frown dragged together the shaggy eyebrows of Rutherford as +he snapped out his ultimatum. + +"I like you, Dave. Always have. But you're in one hell of a hole. +Don't feed yourself any fairy tales. Your number is chalked up, my +friend. Unless you come through with what we want, you'll never leave +here alive. I can't save you. There's only one man can--and that is +your friend David Dingwell." + +The other man did not bat an eyelid. "Trying to pass the buck, Hal? +You can't get away with it--not for a minute." A gay little smile of +derision touched his face. "I'm in your hands completely. I'll not +tell you a damn thing. What are you going to do about it? No, don't +tell me that Meldrum and Tighe will do what has to be done. You're the +high mogul here. If they kill me, Hal Rutherford will be my murderer. +Don't forget that for a second." + +Rutherford carried home with him a heavy heart. He could see no way +out of the difficulty. He knew that neither Meldrum nor Tighe would +consent to let Dingwell go unless an agreement was first reached. +There was, too, the other tangle involving young Beaudry. Perhaps he +also would be obstinate and refuse to follow the reasonable course. + +Beulah met him on the road. Before they had ridden a hundred yards, +her instinct told her that he was troubled. + +"What is it, dad?" she asked. + +He compromised with himself and told her part of what was worrying him. +"It's about your friend Street. Jess had him looked up in Denver. The +fellow turns out to be a Royal Beaudry. You've heard of a sheriff of +that name who used to live in this country? . . . Well, this is his +son." + +"What's he doing here?" + +"Trying to get us into trouble, I reckon. But that ain't the point. +I'm not worrying about what he can find out. Fact is that Tighe is +revengeful. This boy's father crippled him. He wants to get even on +the young fellow. Unless Beaudry leaves the park at once, he'll never +go. I left word at Rothgerber's for him to come down and see me soon +as he gets home." + +"Will he come?" she asked anxiously. + +"I don't know. If not I'll go up and fetch him. I don't trust Jess a +bit. He'll strike soon and hard." + +"Don't let him, dad," the girl implored. + +The distressed eyes of the father rested on her. "You like this young +fellow, honey?" he asked. + +She flamed. "I hate him. He abused our hospitality. He lied to us +and spied on us. I wouldn't breathe the same air he does if I could +help it. But we can't let him be killed in cold blood." + +"That's right, Boots. Well, he'll come down to-day and I'll pack him +back to Battle Butte. Then we'll be shet of him." + +Beulah passed the hours in a fever of impatience. She could not keep +her mind on the children she was teaching. She knew Tighe. The +decision of her father to send Beaudry away would spur the cripple to +swift activity. Up at Rothgerber's Jess could corner the man and work +his vengeance unhampered. Why did not the spy come down to the horse +ranch? Was it possible that his pride would make him neglect the +warning her father had left? Perhaps he would think it only a trap to +catch him. + +Supper followed dinner, and still Beaudry had not arrived. From the +porch Beulah peered up the road into the gathering darkness. Her +father had been called away. Her brothers were not at home. The girl +could stand it no longer. She went to the stable and saddled Blacky. + +Five minutes later she was flying up the road that led to the +Rothgerber place. + + + + +Chapter XII + +Stark Fear + +When Beaudry climbed the canon wall to the Rothgerber pasture he +breathed a deep sigh of relief. For many hours he had been under a +heavy strain, nerves taut as fiddle-strings. Fifty times his heart had +jumped with terror. But he had done the thing he had set out to do. + +He had stiffened his flaccid will and spurred his trembling body +forward. If he had been unable to control his fear, at least he had +not let it master him. He had found out for Ryan where Dingwell was +held prisoner. It had been his intention to leave the park as soon as +he knew this, report the facts to the friends of Dave, and let them +devise a way of escape. He had done his full share. But he could not +follow this course now. + +The need of the cattleman was urgent. Somehow it must be met at once. +Yet what could he do against two armed men who would not hesitate to +shoot him down if necessary? There must be some way of saving Dingwell +if he could only find it. + +In spite of his anxiety, a fine spiritual exaltation flooded him. So +far he had stood the acid test, had come through without dishonor. He +might be a coward; at least, he was not a quitter. Plenty of men would +have done his day's work without a tremor. What brought comfort to +Roy's soul was that he had been able to do it at all. + +Mrs. Rothgerber greeted him with exclamations of delight. The message +of Rutherford had frightened her even though she did not entirely +understand it. + +"Hermann iss out looking for you. Mr. Rutherford--the one that owns +the horse ranch--he wass here and left a message for you." + +"A message for me! What was it?" + +With many an "Ach!" she managed to tell him. + +The face of her boarder went white. Since Rutherford was warning him +against Tighe, the danger must be imminent. Should he go down to the +horse ranch now? Or had he better wait until it was quite dark? While +he was still debating this with himself, the old German came into the +house. + +"Home, eh? Gut, gut! They are already yet watching the road." + +Roy's throat choked. "Who?" + +This question Rothgerber could not answer. In the dusk he had not +recognized the men he had seen. Moreover, they had ridden into the +brush to escape observation. Both of them had been armed with rifles. + +The old woman started to light a lamp, but Roy stopped her. "Let's eat +in the dark," he proposed. "Then I'll slip out to the bunkhouse and +you can have your light." + +His voice shook. When he tried to eat, his fingers could scarcely hold +a knife and fork. Supper was for him a sham. A steel band seemed to +grip his throat and make the swallowing of food impossible. He was as +unnerved as a condemned criminal waiting for the noose. + +After drinking a cup of coffee, he pushed back his chair and rose. + +"Petter stay with us," urged the old German. He did not know why this +young man was in danger, but he read in the face the stark fear of a +soul in travail. + +"No. I'll saddle and go down to see Rutherford. Good-night." + +Roy went out of the back door and crept along the shadows of the hill. +Beneath his foot a dry twig snapped. It was enough. He fled +panic-stricken, pursued by all the demons of hell his fears could +evoke. A deadly, unnerving terror clutched at his throat. The +pounding blood seemed ready to burst the veins at his temples. + +The bunkhouse loomed before him in the darkness. As he plunged at the +door a shot rang out. A bolt of fire burned into his shoulder. He +flung the door open, slammed it shut behind him, locked and bolted it +almost with one motion. For a moment he leaned half swooning against +the jamb, sick through and through at the peril he had just escaped. + +But had he escaped it? Would they not break in on him and drag him out +to death? The acuteness of his fright drove away the faintness. He +dragged the bed from its place and pushed it against the door. Upon it +he piled the table, the washstand, the chairs. Feverishly he worked to +barricade the entrance against his enemies. + +When he had finished, his heart was beating against his ribs like that +of a wild rabbit in the hands of a boy. He looked around for the +safest place to hide. From the floor he stripped a Navajo rug and +pulled up the trapdoor that led to a small cellar stairway. Down into +this cave he went, letting the door fall shut after him. + +In that dark blackness he waited, a crumpled, trembling wretch, for +whatever fate might have in store for him. + +How long he crouched there Beaudry never knew. At last reason asserted +itself and fought back the panic. To stay where he was would be to +invite destruction. His attackers would come to the window. The +barricaded door, the displaced rug, the trapdoor, would advertise his +terror. The outlaws would break in and make an end of him. + +Roy could hardly drag his feet up the stairs, so near was he to +physical collapse. He listened. No sound reached him. Slowly he +pushed up the trapdoor. Nobody was in the room. He crept up, lowered +the door, and replaced the carpet. With his eyes on the window he put +back the furniture where it belonged. Then, revolver in hand, he sat +in one corner of the room and tried to decide what he must do. + +Down in the cellar he had been vaguely aware of a dull pain in his +shoulder and a wet, soggy shirt above the place. But the tenseness of +his anxiety had pushed this into the background of his thoughts. Now +again the throbbing ache intruded itself. The fingers of his left hand +searched under his waistcoat, explored a spot that was tender and +soppy, and came forth moist. + +He knew he had been shot, but this gave him very little concern. He +had no time to worry about his actual ills, since his whole mind was +given to the fear of those that were impending. + +Upon the window there came a faint tapping. The hand with the revolver +jerked up automatically. Every muscle of Beaudry's body grew rigid. +His senses were keyed to a tense alertness. He moistened his lips with +his tongue as he crouched in readiness for the attack about to break. + +Again the tapping, and this time with it a quick, low, imperious call. + +"Mr. Street. Are you there? Let me in!" + +He knew that voice--would have known it among a thousand. In another +moment he had raised the window softly and Beulah Rutherford was +climbing in. + +She panted as if she had been running. "They're watching the entrance +to the arroyo. I came up through the canon and across the pasture," +she explained. + +"Did they see you?" + +"No. Think not. We must get out of here." + +"How?" + +"The same way I came." + +"But--if they see us and shoot?" + +The girl brushed his objection aside. "We can't help that. They know +you're here, don't they?" + +"Yes." + +"Then they'll rush the house. Come." + +Still he hesitated. At least they had the shelter of the house. +Outside, if they should be discovered, they would be at the mercy of +his foes. + +"What are you waiting for?" she asked sharply, and she moved toward the +window. + +But though he recoiled from going to meet the danger, he could not let +a girl lead the way. Beaudry dropped to the ground outside and stood +ready to lend her a hand. She did not need one. With a twist of her +supple body Beulah came through the opening and landed lightly beside +him. + +They crept back to the shadows of the hill and skirted its edge. +Slowly they worked their way from the bunkhouse, making the most of +such cover as the chaparral afforded. Farther up they crossed the road +into the pasture and by way of it reached the orchard. Every inch of +the distance Roy sweated fear. + +She was leading, ostensibly because she knew the lay of the land +better. Through the banked clouds the moon was struggling. Its light +fell upon her lithe, slender figure, the beautifully poised head, the +crown of soft black hair. She moved with the grace and the rhythm of a +racing filly stepping from the paddock to the track. + +Beaudry had noticed, even in his anxiety, that not once since the +tapping on the window had her hand touched his or the sweep of her +skirt brushed against his clothes. She would save him if she could, +but with an open disdain that dared him to misunderstand. + +They picked their course diagonally through the orchard toward the +canon. Suddenly Beulah stopped. Without turning, she swept her hand +back and caught his. Slowly she drew him to the shadow of an apple +tree. There, palm to palm, they crouched together. + +Voices drifted to them. + +"I'd swear I hit him," one said. + +"Maybe you put him out of business. We got to find out," another +answered. + +"I'll crawl up to the window and take a look," responded the first. + +The voices and the sound of the man's movements died. Beulah's hand +dropped to her side. + +"We're all right now," she said coldly. + +They reached the gulch and slowly worked their way down its precipitous +sides to the bottom. + +The girl turned angrily on Roy. "Why didn't you come after father +warned you?" + +"I didn't get his warning till night. I was away." + +"Then how did you get back up the arroyo when it was watched?" + +"I--I wasn't out into the park," he told her. + +"Oh!" Her scornful gypsy eyes passed over him and wiped him from the +map. She would not even comment on the obvious alternative. + +"You think I've been up at Dan Meldrum's spying," he protested hotly. + +"Haven't you?" she flung at him. + +"Yes, if that's what you want to call it," came quickly his bitter +answer. "The man who has been my best friend is lying up there a +prisoner because he knows too much about the criminals of Huerfano +Park. I heard Meldrum threaten to kill him unless he promised what was +wanted of him. Why shouldn't I do my best to help the man who--" + +Her voice, sharpened by apprehension, cut into his. "What man? Who +are you talking about?" + +"I'm talking about David Dingwell." + +"What do you mean that he knows too much? Too much about what?" she +demanded. + +"About the express robbery." + +"Do you mean to say that--that my people--?" She choked with anger, +but back of her indignation was fear. + +"I mean to say that one of your brothers was guarding Dingwell and that +later your father went up to Meldrum's place. They are starving him to +get something out of him. I serve warning on you that if they hurt my +friend--" + +"Starving him!" she broke out fiercely. "Do you dare say that my +people--my father--would torture anybody? Is that what you mean, you +lying spy?" + +Her fury was a spur to him. "I don't care what words you use," he +flung back wildly. "They have given him no food for three days. I +didn't know such things were done nowadays. It's as bad as what the +old Apaches did. It's devilish--" + +He pulled himself up. What right had he to talk that way to the girl +who had just saved his life? Her people might be law-breakers, but he +felt that she was clean of any wrongdoing. + +Her pride was shaken. A more immediate issue had driven it into the +background. + +"Why should they hurt him?" she asked. "If they had meant to do that--" + +"Because he won't tell what he knows--where the gold is--won't promise +to keep quiet about it afterward. What else can they do? They can't +turn him loose as a witness against them." + +"I don't believe it. I don't believe a word of it." Her voice broke. +"I'm going up to see right away." + +"You mean--to-night?" + +"I mean now." + +She turned up the gulch instead of down. Reluctantly he followed her. + + + + +Chapter XIII + +Beulah Interferes + +They felt their way up in the darkness. The path was rough and at +first pitch-black. After a time they emerged from the aspens into more +open travel. Here were occasional gleams of light, as if the moon +stood tip-toe and peered down between the sheer walls of Chicito to the +obscure depths below. + +Beulah led. Mountain-born and bred, she was active as a bighorn. Her +slenderness was deceptive. It concealed the pack of her long rippling +muscles, the deep-breasted strength of her torso. One might have +marched a long day's journey without finding a young woman more +perfectly modeled for grace and for endurance. + +"What are you going to try to do?" Beaudry asked of her timidly. + +She turned on him with a burst of feminine ferocity. "Is that any of +your business? I didn't ask you to come with me, did I? Go down to +the horse ranch and ask dad to help you out of the park. Then, when +you're safe with your friends, you can set the officers on him. Tell +them he is a criminal--just as you told me." + +Her biting tongue made him wince. "If I told you that I'm sorry. I +had no right. You've saved my life. Do you think it likely I would +betray your people after that?" + +"How do I know what a spy would do? Thank God, I can't put myself in +the place of such people," she answered disdainfully. + +He smiled ruefully. She was unjust, of course. But that did not +matter. Roy knew that she was wrought up by what he had told her. +Pride and shame and hatred and distrust spoke in her sharp words. Was +it not natural that a high-spirited girl should resent such a charge +against her people and should flame out against the man who had wounded +her? Even though she disapproved of what they had done, she would fly +to their defense when attacked. + +From the dark gash of the ravine they came at last to the opening where +Meldrum lived. + +The young woman turned to Beaudry. "Give me your revolver belt." + +He hesitated. "What are you going to do?" + +Plainly she would have liked to rebuff him, but just now he had the +whip hand. Her sullen answer came slowly. + +"I'm going to tell my brother that father needs him. When he has gone, +I'll see what I can do." + +"And what am I to do while you are inside?" + +"Whatever you like." She held out her hand for his belt. + +Not at all willingly he unbuckled it. "You'll be careful," he urged. +"Meldrum is a bad man. Don't try any tricks with him." + +"He knows better than to touch a hair of my head," she assured him with +proud carelessness. Then, "Hide in those trees," she ordered. + +Ned Rutherford answered her knock on the door of the _jacal_. At sight +of her he exclaimed:-- + +"What are you doing here, Boots? At this time of night? Anything +wrong?" + +"Dad needs you, Ned. It seems there is trouble about that young man +Street. Jess Tighe has sworn to kill him and dad won't have it. +There's trouble in the air. You're to come straight home." + +"Why didn't he send Jeff?" + +"He needed him. You're to keep on down through the canon to the mouth. +Jess has the mouth of the arroyo guarded to head off Street." + +"But--what's broke? Why should Tighe be so keen on bumping off this +pink-ear when dad says no?" + +"They've found out who he is. It seems Street is an _alias_. He is +really Royal Beaudry, the son of the man who used to be sheriff of the +county, the one who crippled Jess the day he was killed." + +The slim youth in the high-heeled boots whistled. He understood now +why Tighe dared to defy his father. + +"All right, Boots. With you in a minute, soon as I get my hat and let +Dan know." + +"No. I'm to stay here till dad sends for me. He doesn't want me near +the trouble." + +"You mean you're to stay at Rothgerber's." + +"No, here. Tighe may attack Rothgerber's any time to get this young +Beaudry. I heard shooting as I came up." + +"But--you can't stay here. What's dad thinking about?" he frowned. + +"If you mean because of Mr. Dingwell, I know all about that." + +"Who told you?" he demanded. + +"Dad can't keep secrets from me. There's no use his trying." + +"Hm! I notice he loaded us with a heap of instructions not to let you +know anything. He'd better learn to padlock his own tongue." + +"Isn't there a room where I can sleep here?" Beulah asked. + +"There's a cot in the back room," he admitted sulkily. "But you +can't--" + +"That's another thing," she broke in. "Dad doesn't want Dan left alone +with Mr. Dingwell." + +"Who's that out there, Ned?" growled a heavy voice from inside. + +Beulah followed her brother into the hut. Two men stared at her in +amazement. One sat on the bed with a leg tied to the post. The other +was at the table playing solitaire, a revolver lying beside the cards. +The card-player was Meldrum. He jumped up with an oath. + +"Goddlemighty! What's she doing here?" he demanded in his hoarse +raucous bass. + +"That's her business and mine," Rutherford answered haughtily. + +"It's mine too, by God! My neck's in the noose, ain't it?" screamed +the former convict. "Has everybody in the park got to know we're +hiding Dingwell here? Better put it in the paper. Better--" + +"Enough of that, Dan. Dad is running this show. Obey orders, and that +lets you out," retorted the young man curtly. "You've met my sister, +haven't you, Dave?" + +The cattleman smiled at the girl. "Sure. We had a little ride +together not long since. I owe you a new raincoat. Don't I, Miss +Beulah?" + +She blushed a little. "No, you don't, Mr. Dingwell. The mud came off +after it dried." + +"That's good." Dave turned to Rutherford. The little devils of +mischief were in his eyes. "Chet Fox was with us, but he didn't +stay--had an engagement, he said. He was in some hurry to keep it, +too." + +But though he chatted with them gayly, the ranchman's mind was +subconsciously busy with the new factor that had entered into the +problem of his captivity. Why had Rutherford allowed her to come? He +could not understand that. Every added one who knew that he was here +increased the danger to his abductors. He knew how fond the owner of +the horse ranch was of this girl. It was odd that he had let her +become incriminated in his lawless plans. Somehow that did not seem +like Hal Rutherford. One point that stood out like the Map of Texas +brand was the effect of her coming upon his chances. To secure their +safety neither Tighe nor Meldrum would stick at murder. Ten minutes +ago the prudent way out of the difficulty would have been for them to +arrange his death by accident. Now this was no longer feasible. When +the Rutherford girl had stepped into the conspiracy, it became one of +finesse and not bloodshed. Was this the reason that her father had +sent her--to stay the hands of his associates already reaching toward +the prisoner? There was no question that Meldrum's finger had been +itching on the trigger of his revolver for a week. One of the young +Rutherfords had been beside him day and night to restrain the man. + +Dave was due for another surprise when Ned presently departed after a +whispered conference with Meldrum and left his sister in the hut. +Evidently something important was taking place in another part of the +park. Had it to do with young Beaudry? + +From his reflections the cattleman came to an alert attention. Miss +Rutherford was giving Meldrum instructions to arrange her bed in the +back room. + +The convict hesitated. "I can't leave him here alone with you," he +remonstrated surlily. + +"Why can't you?" demanded Beulah incisively. "He's tied to the bedpost +and I have my gun. I can shoot as straight as you can. What harm can +he do me in five minutes? Don't be an idiot, Dan." + +Meldrum, grumbling, passed into the back room. + +In an instant Beulah was at the table, had drawn out a drawer, and had +seized a carving knife. She turned on Dingwell, eyes flashing. + +"If I help you to escape, will you swear to say nothing that will hurt +my father or anybody else in the park?" she demanded in a low voice. + +"Yes--if young Beaudry has not been hurt." + +"You swear it." + +"Yes." + +She tossed him the knife, and moved swiftly back to the place where she +had been standing. "Whatever my father wants you to do you'd better +do," she said out loud for the benefit of Meldrum. + +Dingwell cut the ropes that bound his leg. "I'm liable to be Dan's +guest quite awhile yet. Rutherford and I don't quite agree on the +terms," he drawled aloud. + +Beulah tossed him her revolver. "I'll call Dan, but you're not to hurt +him," she whispered. + +When Meldrum came in answer to her summons, he met the shock of his +life. In Dingwell's competent hand was a revolver aimed at his heart. + +The man turned savagely to Beulah. "So I'm the goat," he said with a +curse. "Rutherford is going to frame me, is he? I'm to go to the pen +in place of the whole bunch. Is that it?" + +"No, you've guessed wrong. Yore hide is safe this time, Meldrum," the +cattleman explained. "Reach for the roof. No, don't do that. . . . +Now, turn yore face to the wall." + +Dave stepped forward and gathered in the forty-four of the enemy. He +also relieved him of his "skinning" knife. With the deft hands of an +old roper he tied the man up and flung him on the bed. + +This done, Dingwell made straight for the larder. Though he was +ravenous, the cattleman ate with discretion. Into his pockets he +packed all the sandwiches they would hold. + +"Is it true that you--that they didn't give you anything to eat?" asked +Beulah. + +He looked at her--and lied cheerfully. + +"Sho, I got cranky and wouldn't eat. Yore folks treated me fine. I +got my neck bowed. Can't blame them for that, can I?" + +"We must be going," she told him. "If you don't get over the pass +before morning, Tighe might catch you." + +He nodded agreement. "You're right, but I've got to look out for young +Beaudry. Do you know where he is?" + +"He is waiting outside," the girl said stiffly. "Take him away with +you. I'll not be responsible for him if he comes back. We don't like +spies here." + +They found Roy lying against the wall of the hut, his white face +shining in the moonlight. + +"What's the matter with you?" demanded Miss Rutherford sharply. + +"I'm all right." Roy managed to rise and lean against the _jacal_. "I +see you made it. Mr. Dingwell, my name is Beaudry." + +"Glad to know you." The cattleman's strong hand gripped his limp one. +"Yore father was the gamest man I ever knew and one of my best friends." + +The keen eyes of Beulah had been fastened on Roy. She recalled what +she had heard the man say in the orchard. In her direct fashion she +flung a question at the young man. + +"Are you wounded? Did that man hit you when he fired?" + +"It's in my shoulder--just a flesh wound. The bleeding has stopped +except when I move." + +"Why didn't you say something about it?" she asked impatiently. "Do +you think we're clairvoyants? We'd better get him into the house and +look at it, Mr. Dingwell." + +They did as she suggested. A bullet had ploughed a furrow across the +shoulder. Except for the loss of blood, the wound was not serious. +With the help of Miss Rutherford, which was given as a matter of course +and quite without embarrassment, Dave dressed and bandaged the hurt +like an expert. In his adventurous life he had looked after many men +who had been shot, and had given first aid to a dozen with broken bones. + +Roy winced a little at the pain, but he made no outcry. He was not a +baby about suffering. That he could stand as well as another. What +shook his nerve was the fear of anticipation, the dread of an impending +disaster which his imagination magnified. + +"You'd better hurry," he urged two or three times. "Some one might +come any minute." + +Dave looked at him, a little surprised. "What's the urge, son? We've +got two six-guns with us if anybody gets too neighborly." + +But Beulah was as keen for the start as Beaudry. She did not want the +men escaping from the park to meet with her people. To avoid this, +rapid travel was necessary. + +As soon as Roy was patched up they started. + + + + +Chapter XIV + +Personally Escorted + +Before they reached the mouth of the canon, Dave was supporting the +slack body of his friend. When the party came to the aspens, Beulah +hurried forward, and by the time the two men emerged she was waiting +for them with Blacky. + +Roy protested at taking the horse, but the girl cut short his +objections imperiously. + +"Do you think we've only your silly pride to consider? I want you out +of the park--where my people can't reach you. I'm going to see you get +out. After that I don't care what you do." + +Moonlight fell upon the sardonic smile on the pitifully white face of +the young man. "I'm to be personally conducted by the Queen of +Huerfano. That's great. I certainly appreciate the honor." + +With the help of Dingwell he pulled himself to the saddle. The +exertion started a spurt of warm blood at the shoulder, but Roy +clenched his teeth and clung to the pommel to steady himself. The +cattleman led the horse and Beulah walked beside him. + +"I can get another pony for you at Cameron's," she explained. "Just +above there is a short cut by way of Dolores Sinks. You ought to be +across the divide before morning. I'll show you the trail." + +What story she told to get the horse from Cameron her companions did +not know, but from where they waited in the pines they saw the +flickering light of a lantern cross to the stable. Presently Beulah +rode up to them on the hillside above the ranch. + +By devious paths she led them through chaparral and woodland. +Sometimes they followed her over hills and again into gulches. The +girl "spelled" Dingwell at riding the second horse, but whether in the +saddle or on foot her movements showed such swift certainty that Dave +was satisfied she knew where she was going. + +Twice she stopped to rest the wounded man, who was now clinging with +both hands to the saddle-horn. But the hard gleam of her dark eyes +served notice that she was moved by expediency and not sympathy. + +It was midnight when at last she stopped near the entrance to the pass. + +"The road lies straight before you over the divide. You can't miss it. +Once on the other side keep going till you get into the foothills. All +trails will take you down," she told Dingwell. + +"We're a heap obliged to you, Miss Rutherford," answered Dingwell. "I +reckon neither one of us is liable to forget what you've done for us." + +She flamed. "I've nothing against you, Mr. Dingwell, but you might as +well know that what I've done was for my people. I don't want them to +get into trouble. If it hadn't been for that--" + +"You'd 'a' done it just the same," the cattleman finished for her with +a smile. "You can't make me mad to-night after going the limit for us +the way you have." + +Beaudry, sagging over the horn of the saddle, added his word timidly, +but the Rutherford girl would have none of his thanks. + +"You don't owe me anything, I tell you. How many times have I got to +say that it is nothing to me what becomes of you?" she replied, +flushing angrily. "All I ask is that you don't cross my path again. +Next time I'll let Jess Tighe have his way." + +"I didn't go into the park to spy on your people, Miss Rutherford. I +went to--" + +"I care nothing about why you came." The girl turned to Dingwell, her +chin in the air. "Better let him rest every mile or two. I don't want +him breaking down in our country after all the trouble I've taken." + +"You may leave him to me. I'll look out for him," Dave promised. + +"Just so that you don't let him get caught again," she added. + +Her manner was cavalier, her tone almost savage. Without another word +she turned and left them. + +Dingwell watched her slim form disappear into the night. + +"Did you ever see such a little thoroughbred?" he asked admiringly. "I +take off my hat to her. She's the gamest kid I ever met--and pretty as +they grow. Just think of her pulling off this getaway to-night. It +was a man-size job, and that little girl never turned a hair from start +to finish. And loyal! By Gad! Hal Rutherford hasn't earned fidelity +like that, even if he has been father and mother to her since she was a +year old. He'd ought to send her away from that hell-hole and give her +a chance." + +"What will they do to her when she gets back?" + +Dave chuckled. "They can't do a thing. That's the beauty of it. +There'll be a lot of tall cussing in Huerfano for a while, but after +Hal has onloaded what's on his chest he'll stand between her and the +rest." + +"Sure of that?" + +"It's a cinch." The cattleman laughed softly. "But ain't she the +little spitfire? I reckon she sure hates you thorough." + +Roy did not answer. He was sliding from the back of his horse in a +faint. + +When Beaudry opened his eyes again, Dingwell was pouring water into his +mouth from a canteen that had been hanging to the pommel of Miss +Rutherford's saddle. + +"Was I unconscious?" asked the young man in disgust. + +"That's whatever. Just you lie there, son, whilst I fix these bandages +up for you again." + +The cattleman moistened the hot cloths with cold water and rearranged +them. + +"We ought to be hurrying on," Roy suggested, glancing anxiously down +the steep ascent up which they had ridden. + +"No rush a-tall," Dave assured him cheerfully. "We got all the time +there is. Best thing to do is to loaf along and take it easy." + +"But they'll be on our trail as soon as they know we've gone. They'll +force Miss Rutherford to tell which way we came." + +Dingwell grinned. "Son, did you ever look into that girl's eyes? They +look right at you, straight and unafraid. The Huerfano Park outfit +will have a real merry time getting her to tell anything she doesn't +want to. When she gets her neck bowed, I'll bet she's some sot. Might +as well argue with a government mule. She'd make a right interesting +wife for some man, but he'd have to be a humdinger to hold his end +up--six foot of man, lots of patience, and sense enough to know he'd +married a woman out of 'steen thousand." + +Young Beaudry was not contemplating matrimony. His interest just now +was centered in getting as far from the young woman and her relatives +as possible. + +"When young Rutherford finds he has been sold, there will be the deuce +to pay," urged Roy. + +"Will there? I dunno. Old man Rutherford ain't going to be so awfully +keen to get us back on his hands. We worried him a heap. Miss Beulah +lifted two heavy weights off'n his mind. I'm one and you're the other. +O' course, he'll start the boys out after us to square himself with +Tighe and Meldrum. He's got to do that. They're sure going to be busy +bees down in the Huerfano hive. The Rutherford boys are going to do a +lot of night-riding for quite some time. But I expect Hal won't give +them orders to bring us in dead or alive. There is no premium on our +pelts." + +Roy spent a nervous half-hour before his friend would let him mount +again--and he showed it. The shrewd eyes of the old cattleman +appraised him. Already he guessed some of the secrets of this young +man's heart. + +Dave swung to the left into the hills so as to get away from the beaten +trails after they had crossed the pass. He rode slowly, with a careful +eye upon his companion. Frequently he stopped to rest in spite of +Roy's protests. + +Late in the afternoon they came to a little mountain ranch owned by a +nester who had punched cattle for Dave in the old days. Now he was +doing a profitable business himself in other men's calves. He had +started with a branding-iron and a flexible conscience. He still had +both of them, together with a nice little bunch of cows that beat the +world's records for fecundity. + +It was not exactly the place Dingwell would have chosen to go into +hiding, but he had to take what he could get. Roy, completely +exhausted, was already showing a fever. He could not possibly travel +farther. + +With the casual confidence that was one of his assets Dave swung from +his horse and greeted the ranchman. + +"'Lo, Hart! Can we roost here to-night? My friend got thrown and hurt +his shoulder. He's all in." + +The suspicious eyes of the nester passed over Beaudry and came back to +Dingwell. + +"I reckon so," he said, not very graciously. "We're not fixed for +company, but if you'll put up with what we've got--" + +"Suits us fine. My friend's name is Beaudry. I'll get him right to +bed." + +Roy stayed in bed for forty-eight hours. His wound was only a slight +one and the fever soon subsided. The third day he was sunning himself +on the porch. Dave had gone on a little jaunt to a water-hole to shoot +hooters for supper. Mrs. Hart was baking bread inside. Her husband +had left before daybreak and was not yet back. He was looking for +strays, his wife said. + +In the family rocking-chair Roy was reading a torn copy of "Martin +Chuzzlewit." How it had reached this haven was a question, since it +was the only book in the house except a Big Creek bible, as the +catalogue of a mail-order house is called in that country. Beaudry +resented the frank, insolent observations of Dickens on the manners of +Americans. In the first place, the types were not true to life. In +the second place-- + +The young man heard footsteps coming around the corner of the house. +He glanced up carelessly--and his heart seemed to stop beating. + +He was looking into the barrel of a revolver pointed straight at him. +Back of the weapon was the brutal, triumphant face of Meldrum. It was +set in a cruel grin that showed two rows of broken, tobacco-stained +teeth. + +"By God! I've got you. Git down on yore knees and beg, Mr. Spy. I'm +going to blow yore head off in just thirty seconds." + +Not in his most unbridled moments had Dickens painted a bully so +appalling as this one. This man was a notorious "killer" and the lust +of murder was just now on him. Young Beaudry's brain reeled. It was +only by an effort that he pulled himself back from the unconsciousness +into which he was swimming. + + + + +Chapter XV + +The Bad Man + +The eyes of Beaudry, held in dreadful fascination, clung to the lupine +face behind the revolver. To save his life he could have looked +nowhere else except into those cold, narrow pupils where he read death. +Little beads of sweat stood on his forehead. The tongue in his mouth +was dry. His brain seemed paralyzed. Again he seemed to be lifted +from his feet by a wave of deadly terror. + +Meldrum had been drinking heavily, but he was not drunk. He drew from +his pocket a watch and laid it on the arm of the chair. Roy noticed +that the rim of the revolver did not waver. It was pointed directly +between his eyes. + +"Git down on yore knees and beg, damn you. In less 'n a minute hell +pops for you." + +The savage, exultant voice of the former convict beat upon Roy like the +blows of a hammer. He would have begged for his life,--begged +abjectly, cravenly,--but his teeth chattered and his parched tongue was +palsied. He would have sunk to his knees, but terror had robbed his +muscles of the strength to move. He was tied to his chair by ropes +stronger than chains of steel. + +The watch ticked away the seconds. From the face of Meldrum the grin +was snuffed out by a swift surge of wolfish anger. + +"Are you deef and dumb?" he snarled. "It's Dan Meldrum talking--the +man yore dad sent to the penitentiary. I'm going to kill you. Then +I'll cut another notch on my gun. Understand?" + +The brain of the young lawyer would not function. His will was +paralyzed. Yet every sense was amazingly alert. He did not miss a +tick of the watch. Every beat of his heart registered. + +"You butted in and tried to spy like yore dad, did you?" the raucous +voice continued. "Thought you could sell us out and git away with it. +Here's where you learn different. Jack Beaudry was a man, anyhow, and +we got him. You're nothing but a pink-ear, a whey-faced baby without +guts to stand the gaff. Well, you've come to the end of yore trail. +Beg, you skunk!" + +From the mind of Beaudry the fog lifted. In the savage, malignant eyes +glaring at him he read that he was lost. The clutch of fear so +overwhelmed him that suspense was unbearable. He wanted to shriek +aloud, to call on this man-killer to end the agony. It was the same +impulse, magnified a hundred times, that leads a man to bite on an +ulcerated tooth in a weak impotence of pain. + +The tick-tick-tick of the watch mocked him to frenzied action. He +gripped the arms of the chair with both hands and thrust forward his +face against the cold rim of the revolver barrel. + +"Shoot!" he cried hoarsely, drunk with terror. "Shoot, and be damned!" + +Before the words were out of his mouth a shot echoed. For the second +time in his life Roy lost consciousness. Not many seconds could have +passed before he opened his eyes again. But what he saw puzzled him. + +Meldrum was writhing on the ground and cursing. His left hand nursed +the right, which moved up and down frantically as if to escape from +pain. Toward the house walked Dingwell and by his side Beulah +Rutherford. Dave was ejecting a shell from the rifle he carried. +Slowly it came to the young man that he had not been shot. The convict +must have been hit instead by a bullet from the gun of the cattleman. +He was presently to learn that the forty-four had been struck and +knocked from the hand of its owner. + +"Every little thing all right, son?" asked the cowman cheerily. "We +sure did run this rescue business fine. Another minute and--But what's +the use of worrying? Miss Beulah and I were Johnny-on-the-spot all +right." + +Roy said nothing. He could not speak. His lips and cheeks were still +bloodless. By the narrowest margin in the world he had escaped. + +Disgustedly the cattleman looked down at Meldrum, who was trying to +curse and weep from pain at the same time. + +"Stung you up some, did I? Hm! You ought to be singing hymns because +I didn't let you have it in the haid, which I'd most certainly have +done if you had harmed my friend. Get up, you bully, and stop cursing. +There's a lady here, and you ain't damaged, anyhow." + +The eyes of Beaudry met those of Beulah. It seemed to him that her lip +curled contemptuously. She had been witness of his degradation, had +seen him show the white feather. A pulse of shame beat in his throat. + +"W-w-what are you doing here?" he asked wretchedly. + +Dave answered for her. "Isn't she always on the job when she's needed? +Yore fairy godmother--that's what Miss Beulah Rutherford is. Rode +hell-for-leather down here to haid off that coyote there--and done it, +too. Bumped into me at the water-hole and I hopped on that Blacky +hawss behind her. He brought us in on the jump and Sharp's old +reliable upset Meldrum's apple cart." + +Still nursing the tips of his tingling fingers, the ex-convict scowled +venomously at Beulah. "I'll remember that, missie. That's twice +you've interfered with me. I sure will learn you to mind yore own +business." + +Dingwell looked steadily at him. "We've heard about enough from you. +Beat it! Hit the trail! Pull yore freight! Light out! _Vamos_! +Git!" + +The man-killer glared at him. For a moment he hesitated. He would +have liked to try conclusions with the cattleman to a fighting finish, +but though he had held his own in many a rough-and-tumble fray, he +lacked the unflawed nerve to face this man with the cold gray eye and +the chilled-steel jaw. His fury broke in an impotent curse as he +slouched away. + +"I don't understand yet," pursued Roy. "How did Miss Rutherford know +that Meldrum was coming here?" + +"Friend Hart rode up to tell Tighe we were here. He met Meldrum close +to the school-house. The kids were playing hide-and-go-seek. One of +them was lying right back of a big rock beside the road. He heard Dan +swear he was coming down to stop yore clock, son. The kid went +straight to teacher soon as the men had ridden off. He told what +Meldrum had said. So, of course, Miss Beulah she sent the children +home and rode down to the hawss ranch to get her father or one of her +brothers. None of them were at home and she hit the trail alone to +warn us." + +"I knew my people would be blamed for what this man did, so I blocked +him," explained the girl with her habitual effect of hostile pride. + +"You said you would let Tighe have his way next time, but you don't +need to apologize for breaking yore word, Miss Beulah," responded +Dingwell with his friendly smile. "All we've got to say is that you've +got chalked up against us an account we'll never be able to pay." + +The color beat into her cheeks. She was both embarrassed and annoyed. +With a gesture of impatience she turned away and walked to Blacky. +Lithely she swung to the saddle. + +Mrs. Hart had come to the porch. In her harassed countenance still +lingered the remains of good looks. The droop at the corners of her +mouth suggested a faint resentment against a fate which had stolen her +youth without leaving the compensations of middle life. + +"Won't you light off'n yore bronc and stay to supper, Miss Rutherford?" +she invited. + +"Thank you, Mrs. Hart. I can't. Must get home." + +With a little nod to the woman she swung her horse around and was gone. + +Hart did not show up for supper nor for breakfast. It was an easy +guess that he lacked the hardihood to face them after his attempted +betrayal. At all events, they saw nothing of him before they left in +the morning. If they had penetrated his wife's tight-lipped reserve, +they might have shared her opinion, that he had gone off on a long +drinking-bout with Dan Meldrum. + +Leisurely Beaudry and his friend rode down through the chaparral to +Battle Butte. + +On the outskirts of the town they met Ned Rutherford. After they had +passed him, he turned and followed in their tracks. + +Dingwell grinned across at Roy. "Some thorough our friends are. A +bulldog has got nothing on them. They're hanging around to help me dig +up that gunnysack when I get ready." + +The two men rode straight to the office of the sheriff and had a talk +with him. From there they went to the hotel where Dave usually put up +when he was in town. Over their dinner the cattleman renewed an offer +he had been urging upon Roy all the way down from Hart's place. He +needed a reliable man to help him manage the different holdings he had +been accumulating. His proposition was to take Beaudry in as a junior +partner, the purchase price to be paid in installments to be earned out +of the profits of the business. + +"Course I don't want to take you away from the law if you're set on +that profession, but if you don't really care--" Dave lifted an +eyebrow in a question. + +"I think I'd like the law, but I know I would like better an active +outdoor life. That's not the point, Mr. Dingwell. I can't take +something for nothing. You can get a hundred men who know far more +about cattle than I do. Why do you pick me?" + +"I've got reasons a-plenty. Right off the bat here are some of them. +I'm under obligations to Jack Beaudry and I'd like to pay my debt to +his son. I've got no near kin of my own. I need a partner, but it +isn't one man out of a dozen I can get along with. Most old cowmen are +rutted in their ways. You don't know a thing about the business. But +you can learn. You're teachable. You are not one of these wise guys. +Then, too, I like you, son. I don't want a partner that rubs me the +wrong way. Hell, my why-fors all simmer down to one. You're the +partner I want, Roy." + +"If you find I don't suit you, will you let me know?" + +"Sure. But there is no chance of that." Dave shook hands with him +joyously. "It's a deal, boy." + +"It's a deal," agreed Beaudry. + + + + +Chapter XVI + +Roy is Invited to Take a Drink + +Dingwell gave a fishing-party next day. His invited guests were +Sheriff Sweeney, Royal Beaudry, Pat Ryan, and Superintendent Elder, of +the Western Express Company. Among those present, though at a +respectable distance, were Ned Rutherford and Brad Charlton. + +The fishermen took with them neither rods nor bait. Their flybooks +were left at home. Beaudry brought to the meeting-place a quarter-inch +rope and a grappling-iron with three hooks. Sweeney and Ryan carried +rifles and the rest of the party revolvers. + +Dave himself did the actual fishing. After the grappling-hook had been +attached to the rope, he dropped it into Big Creek from a large rock +under the bridge that leads to town from Lonesome Park. He hooked his +big fish at the fourth cast and worked it carefully into the shallow +water. Roy waded into the stream and dragged the catch ashore. It +proved to be a gunnysack worth twenty thousand dollars. + +Elder counted the sacks inside. "Everything is all right. How did you +come to drop the money here?" + +"I'm mentioning no names, Mr. Elder. But I was so fixed that I +couldn't turn back. If I left the road, my tracks would show. There +were reasons why I didn't want to continue on into town with the loot. +So, as I was crossing the bridge, without leaving the saddle or even +stopping, I deposited the gold in the Big Creek safety deposit vault," +Dingwell answered with a grin. + +"But supposing the Rutherfords had found it?" The superintendent put +his question blandly. + +The face of the cattleman was as expressive as a stone wall. "Did I +mention the Rutherfords?" he asked, looking straight into the eye of +the Western Express man. "I reckon you didn't hear me quite right." + +Elder laughed a little. He was a Westerner himself. "Oh, I heard you, +Mr. Dingwell. But I haven't heard a lot of things I'd like to know." + +The cattleman pushed the sack with his toe. "Money talks, folks say." + +"Maybe so. But it hasn't told me why you couldn't go back along the +road you came, why you couldn't leave the road, and why you didn't want +to go right up to Sweeney's office with the sack. It hasn't given me +any information about where you have been the past two weeks, or how--" + +"My gracious! He bubbles whyfors and howfors like he had just come +uncorked," murmured Dave, in his slow drawl. "Just kinder effervesces +them out of the mouth." + +"I know you're not going to tell me anything you don't want me to know, +still--" + +"You done guessed it first, crack. Move on up to the haid of the +class." + +"Still, you can't keep me from thinking. You can call the turn on the +fellows that robbed the Western Express Company whenever you feel like +it. Right now you could name the men that did it." + +Dave's most friendly, impudent smile beamed upon the superintendent. +"I thank you for the compliment, Mr. Elder. Honest, I didn't know how +smart a haid I had in my hat till you told me." + +"It's good ye've got an air-tight _alibi_ yoursilf, Dave," grinned Pat +Ryan. + +"I've looked up his _alibi_. It will hold water," admitted Elder +genially. "Well, Dingwell, if you won't talk, you won't. We'll move +on up to the bank and deposit our find. Then the drinks will be on me." + +The little procession moved uptown. A hundred yards behind it came +young Rutherford and Charlton as a rear guard. When the contents of +the sack had been put in a vault for safe-keeping, Elder invited the +party into the Last Chance. Dave and Roy ordered buttermilk. + +Dingwell gave his partner a nudge. "See who is here." + +The young man nodded gloomily. He had recognized already the two men +drinking at a table in the rear. + +"Meldrum and Hart make a sweet pair to draw to when they're tanking up. +They're about the two worst bad men in this part of the country. My +advice is to take the other side of the street when you see them +coming," Ryan contributed. + +The rustlers glowered at Elder's party, but offered no comment other +than some sneering laughter and ribald whispering. Yet Beaudry +breathed freer when he was out in the open again lengthening the +distance between him and them at every stride. + +Ryan walked as far as the hotel with Dave and his partner. + +"Come in and have dinner with us, Pat," invited the cattleman. + +The Irishman shook his head. "Can't, Dave. Got to go round to the +Elephant Corral and look at my horse. A nail wint into its foot last +night." + +After they had dined, Dingwell looked at his watch. "I want you to +look over the ranch today, son. We'll ride out and I'll show you the +place. But first I've got to register a kick with the station agent +about the charges for freight on a wagon I had shipped in from Denver. +Will you stop at Salmon's and order this bill of groceries sent up to +the corral? I'll meet you here at 2.30." + +Roy walked up Mission Street as far as Salmon's New York Grocery and +turned in the order his friend had given him. After he had seen it +filled, he strolled along the sunny street toward the plaza. It was +one of those warm, somnolent New Mexico days as peaceful as old age. +Burros blinked sleepily on three legs and a hoof-tip. Cowponies +switched their tails indolently to brush away flies. An occasional +half-garbed Mexican lounged against a door jamb or squatted in the +shade of a wall. A squaw from the reservation crouched on the curb +beside her display of pottery. Not a sound disturbed the siesta of +Battle Butte. + +Into this peace broke an irruption of riot. A group of men poured +through the swinging doors of a saloon into the open arcade in front. +Their noisy disputation shattered the sunny stillness like a fusillade +in the desert. Plainly they were much the worse for liquor. + +Roy felt again the familiar clutch at his throat, the ice drench at his +heart, and the faint slackness of his leg muscles. For in the crowd +just vomited from the Silver Dollar were Meldrum, Fox, Hart, Charlton, +and Ned Rutherford. + +Charlton it was that caught sight of the passing man. With an exultant +whoop he leaped out, seized Beaudry, and swung him into the circle of +hillmen. + +"Tickled to death to meet up with you, Mr. +Royal-Cherokee-Beaudry-Street. How is every little thing a-coming? +Fine as silk, eh? You'd ought to be laying by quite a bit of the +mazuma, what with rewards and spy money together," taunted Charlton. + +To the center of the circle Meldrum elbowed his drunken way. "Lemme +get at the pink-ear. Lemme bust him one," he demanded. + +Ned Rutherford held him back. "Don't break yore breeching, Dan. Brad +has done spoke for him," the young man drawled. + +Into the white face of his victim Charlton puffed the smoke of his +cigar. "If you ain't too busy going fishing maybe you could sell me a +windmill to-day. How about that, Mr. Cornell-I-Yell?" + +"Where's yore dry nurse Dingwell?" broke in the ex-convict bitterly. +"Thought he tagged you everywhere. Tell the son-of-a-gun for me that +next time we meet I'll curl his hair right." + +Roy said nothing. He looked wildly around for a way of escape and +found none. A half ring of jeering faces walled him from the street. + +"Lemme get at him. Lemme crack him one on the bean," insisted Meldrum +as he made a wild pass at Beaudry. + +"No hurry a-tall," soothed Ned. "We got all evening before us. Take +yore time, Dan." + +"Looks to me like it's certainly up to Mr. +Cherokee-What's-his-name-Beaudry to treat the crowd," suggested Chet +Fox. + +The young man clutched at the straw. "Sure. Of course, I will. Glad +to treat, even though I don't drink myself," he said with a weak, +forced heartiness. + +"You _don't_ drink. The hell you don't!" cut in Meldrum above the +Babel of voices. + +"He drinks--hic--buttermilk," contributed Hart. + +"He'll drink whiskey when I give the word, by Gad!" Meldrum shook +himself free of Rutherford and pressed forward. He dragged a bottle +from his pocket, drew out the cork, and thrust the liquor at Roy. +"Drink, you yellow-streaked coyote--and drink a-plenty." + +Roy shook his head. "No!--no," he protested. "I--I--never touch it." +His lips were ashen. The color had fled from his cheeks. + +The desperado pushed his cruel, vice-scarred face close to that of the +man he hated. + +"Sa-ay. Listen to me, young fellow. I'm going to bump you off one o' +these days sure. Me, I don't like yore name nor the color of yore hair +nor the map you wear for a face. I'm a killer. Me, Dan Meldrum. And +I serve notice on you right now." With an effort he brought his mind +back to the issue on hand. "But that ain't the point. When I ask a +man to drink he drinks. See? You ain't deef, are you? Then drink, +you rabbit!" + +Beaudry, his heart beating like a triphammer, told himself that he was +not going to drink that they could not make him--that he would die +first. But before he knew it the flask was in his trembling fingers. +Apparently, without the consent of his flaccid will, the muscles had +responded to the impulse of obedience to the spur of fear. Even while +his brain drummed the refrain, "I won't drink--I won't--I won't," the +bottle was rising to his lips. + +He turned a ghastly grin on his tormentors. It was meant to propitiate +them, to save the last scrap of his self-respect by the assumption that +they were all good fellows together. Feebly it suggested that after +all a joke is a joke. + +From the uptilted flask the whiskey poured into his mouth. He +swallowed, and the fiery liquid scorched his throat. Before he could +hand the liquor back to its owner, the ex-convict broke into a curse. + +"Drink, you pink-ear. Don't play 'possum with me," he roared. Roy +drank. Swallow after swallow of the stuff burned its way into his +stomach. He stopped at last, sputtering and coughing. + +"M--much obliged. I'll be going now," he stammered. + +"Not quite yet, Mr. R. C. Street-Beaudry," demurred Charlton suavely. +"Stay and play with us awhile, now you're here. No telling when we'll +meet again." He climbed on the shoe-shining chair that stood in the +entry. "I reckon I'll have my boots shined up. Go to it, Mr. +Beaudry-Street." + +With a whoop of malice the rest of them fell in with the suggestion. +To make this young fellow black their boots in turn was the most +humiliating thing they could think of at the moment. They pushed Roy +toward the stand and put a brush into his hand. He stood still, +hesitating. + +"Git down on yore knees and hop to it," ordered Charlton. "Give him +room, boys." + +Again Beaudry swore to himself that he would not do it. He had an +impulse to smash that sneering, cruel face, but it was physically +impossible for him to lift a hand to strike. Though he was trembling +violently, he had no intention of yielding. Yet the hinges of his +knees bent automatically. He found himself reaching for the blacking +just as if his will were paralyzed. + +Perhaps it was the liquor rushing to his head when he stooped. Perhaps +it was the madness of a terror-stricken rat driven into a corner. His +fear broke bounds, leaped into action. Beaudry saw red. With both +hands he caught Charlton's foot, twisted it savagely, and flung the man +head over heels out of the chair. He snatched up the bootblack's stool +by one leg and brought it crashing down on the head of Meldrum. The +ex-convict went down as if he had been pole-axed. + +There was no time to draw guns, no time to prepare a defense. His +brain on fire from the liquor he had drunk and his overpowering terror, +Beaudry was a berserk gone mad with the lust of battle. He ran amuck +like a maniac, using the stool as a weapon to hammer down the heads of +his foes. It crashed first upon one, now on another. + +Charlton rushed him and was struck down beside Meldrum. Hart, flung +back into the cigar-case, smashed the glass into a thousand splinters. +Young Rutherford was sent spinning into the street. + +His assailants gave way before Beaudry, at first slowly, then in a +panic of haste to escape. He drove them to the sidewalk, flailing away +at those within reach. Chet Fox hurdled in his flight a burro loaded +with wood. + +Then, suddenly as it had swept over Roy, the brain-storm passed. The +mists cleared from his eyes. He looked down at the leg of the stool in +his hand, which was all that remained of it. He looked up--and saw +Beulah Rutherford in the street astride a horse. + +She spoke to her brother, who had drawn a revolver from his pocket. +"You don't need that now, Ned. He's through." + +Her contemptuous voice stung Roy. "Why didn't they leave me alone, +then?" he said sullenly in justification. + +The girl did not answer him. She slipped from the horse and ran into +the arcade with the light grace that came of perfect health and the +freedom of the hills. The eyes of the young man followed this slim, +long-limbed Diana as she knelt beside Charlton and lifted his bloody +head into her arms. He noticed that her eyes burned and that her +virginal bosom rose and fell in agitation. + +None the less she gave first aid with a business-like economy of +motion. "Bring water, Ned,--and a doctor," she snapped crisply, her +handkerchief pressed against the wound. + +To see what havoc he had wrought amazed Roy. The arcade looked as if a +cyclone had swept through it. The cigar-stand was shattered beyond +repair, its broken glass strewn everywhere. The chair of the bootblack +had been splintered into kindling wood. Among the debris sat Meldrum +groaning, both hands pressing a head that furiously ached. Brad +Charlton was just beginning to wake up to his surroundings. + +A crowd had miraculously gathered from nowhere. The fat marshal of +Battle Butte was puffing up the street a block away. Beaudry judged it +time to be gone. He dropped the leg of the stool and strode toward the +hotel. + +Already his fears were active again. What would the hillmen do to him +when they had recovered from the panic into which his madness had +thrown them? Would they start for him at once? Or would they mark one +more score against him and wait? He could scarcely keep his feet from +breaking into a run to get more quickly from the vicinity of the Silver +Dollar. He longed mightily to reach the protection of Dave Dingwell's +experience and debonair _sang froid_. + +The cattleman had not yet reached the hotel. Roy went up to their room +at once and locked himself in. He sat on the bed with a revolver in +his hand. Now that it was all over, he was trembling like an aspen +leaf. For the hundredth time in the past week he flung at himself his +own contemptuous scorn. Why was the son of John Beaudry such an arrant +coward? He knew that his sudden madness and its consequences had been +born of panic. What was there about the quality of his nerves that +differed from those of other men? Even now he was shivering from the +dread that his enemies might come and break down the door to get at him. + +He heard the jocund whistle of Dingwell as the cattleman came along the +corridor. Swiftly he pocketed the revolver and unlocked the door. +When Dave entered, Roy was lying on the bed pretending to read a +newspaper. + +If the older man noticed that the paper shook, he ignored it. + +"What's this I hear, son, about you falling off the water-wagon and +filling the hospital?" His gay grin challenged affectionately the boy +on the bed. "Don't you know you're liable to give the new firm, +Dingwell & Beaudry, a bad name if you pull off insurrections like that? +The city dads are talking some of building a new wing to the accident +ward to accommodate your victims. Taxes will go up and--" + +Roy smiled wanly. "You've heard about it, then?" + +"Heard about it! Say, son, I've heard nothing else for the last twenty +minutes. You're the talk of the town. I didn't know you was such a +bad actor." Dave stopped to break into a chuckle. "Wow! You +certainly hit the high spots. Friend Meldrum and Charlton and our kind +host Hart--all laid out at one clatter. I never was lucky. Here I +wouldn't 'a' missed seeing you pull off this Samson _encore_ for three +cows on the hoof, and I get in too late for the show." + +"They're not hurt badly, are they?" asked Beaudry, a little timidly. + +Dave looked at him with a curious little smile. "You don't want to go +back and do the job more thorough, do you? No need, son. Meldrum and +Charlton are being patched up in the hospital and Hart was at Doc +White's having the glass picked out of his geography. I've talked with +some of the also rans, and they tell me unanimous that it was the most +thorough clean-up they have participated in recently." + +"What will they do--after they get over it?" + +Dingwell grinned. "Search me! But I'll tell you what they won't do. +They'll not invite you to take another drink right away. I'll bet a +hat on that. . . . Come on, son. We got to hit the trail for home." + + + + +Chapter XVII + +Roy Improves the Shining Hours + +The tender spring burnt into crisp summer. Lean hill cattle that had +roughed through the winter storms lost their shaggy look and began to +fill out. For there had been early rains and the bunch grass was +succulent this year. + +Roy went about learning his new business with an energy that delighted +his partner. He was eager to learn and was not too proud to ask +questions. The range conditions, the breeding of cattle, and +transportation problems were all studied by him. Within a month or two +he had become a fair horseman and could rope a steer inexpertly. + +Dingwell threw out a suggestion one day in his characteristic casual +manner. The two men were riding a line fence and Roy had just missed a +shot at a rabbit. + +"Better learn to shoot, son. Take an hour off every day and practice. +You hadn't ought to have missed that cottontail. What you want is to +fire accurately, just as soon as yore gun jumps to the shoulder. I can +teach you a wrinkle or two with a six-gun. Then every time you see a +rattler, take a crack at it. Keep in form. _You might need to bend a +gun one of these days_." + +His partner understood what that last veiled allusion meant. The weeks +had slipped away since the fracas in front of the Silver Dollar. The +enemy had made no move. But cowpunchers returning to the ranch from +town reported that both Meldrum and Charlton had sworn revenge. It was +an even bet that either one of them would shoot on sight. + +Beaudry took Dave's advice. Every day he rode out to a wash and +carried with him a rifle and a revolver. He practiced for rapidity as +well as accuracy. He learned how to fire from the hip, how to empty a +revolver in less than two seconds, how to shoot lying down, and how to +hit a mark either from above or below. + +The young man never went to town alone. He stuck close to the ranch. +The first weeks had been full of stark terror lest he might find one of +his enemies waiting for him behind a clump of prickly pear or hidden in +the mesquite of some lonely wash. He was past that stage, but his +nerves were still jumpy. It was impossible for him to forget that at +least three men were deadly enemies of his and would stamp out his life +as they would that of a wolf. Each morning he wakened with a little +shock of dread. At night he breathed relief for a few hours of safety. + +Meanwhile Dave watched him with an indolent carelessness of manner that +masked his sympathy. If it had been possible, he would have taken the +burden on his own broad, competent shoulders. But this was not in +Dingwell's code. He had been brought up in that outdoor school of the +West where a man has to game out his own feuds. As the cattleman saw +it, Roy had to go through now just as his father had done seventeen +years before. + +In town one day Dave met Pat Ryan and had a talk with him over dinner. +A remark made by the little cowpuncher surprised his friend. Dingwell +looked at him with narrowed, inquiring eyes. + +The Irishman nodded. "Ye thought you were the only one that knew it? +Well, I'm on, too, Dave." + +"That's not what I hear everywhere else, Pat," answered the cattleman, +still studying the other. "Go down the street and mention the same of +Royal Beaudry--ask any one if he is game. What will you get for a +reply?" + +Without the least hesitation Ryan spoke out. "You'll hear that he's +got more guts than any man in Washington County--that he doesn't know +what fear is. Then likely you'll be told it's natural enough, since +he's the son of Jack Beaudry, the fighting sheriff. Ever-rybody +believes that excipt you and me, Dave. We know better." + +"What do we know, Pat?" + +"We know that the bye is up against a man-size job and is scared stiff." + +"Hmp! Was he scared when he licked a dozen men at the Silver Dollar +and laid out for repairs three of the best fighters in New Mexico?" + +"You're shouting right he was, Dave. No man alive could 'a' done it if +he hadn't been crazy with fright." + +Dingwell laughed. "Hope I'm that way, then, when I get into my next +tight place." He added after a moment: "The trouble with the boy is +that he has too much imagination. He makes his own private little hell +beforehand." + +"I reckon he never learned to ride herd on his fears." + +"Jack Beaudry told me about him onc't. The kid was born after his +mother had been worrying herself sick about Jack. She never could tell +when he'd be brought home dead. Well, Roy inherited fear. I've +noticed that when a sidewinder rattles, he jumps. Same way, when any +one comes up and surprises him. It's what you might call +constitootional with him." + +"Yep. That's how I've got it figured. But--" Pat hesitated and +looked meditatively out of the window. + +"All right. Onload yore mind. Gimme the run of the pen just as yore +thoughts happen," suggested the cattleman. + +"Well, I'm thinking--that he's been lucky, Dave. But soon as Tighe's +tools guess what we know, something's going to happen to Beaudry. He's +got them buffaloed now. But Charlton and Meldrum ain't going to quit. +Can you tell me how your frind will stand the acid next time hell pops?" + +Dave shook his head. "I cannot. That's just what is worrying me. +There are men that have to be lashed on by ridicule to stand the gaff. +But Roy is not like that. I reckon he's all the time flogging himself +like the _penitentes_. He's sick with shame because he can't go out +grinning to meet his troubles. . . . There ain't a thing I can do for +him. He's got to play out his hand alone." + +"Sure he has, and if the luck breaks right, I wouldn't put it past him +to cash in a winner. He's gamer than most of us because he won't quit +even when the divvle of terror is riding his back." + +"Another point in his favor is that he learns easily. When he first +came out to the Lazy Double D, he was afraid of horses. He has got +over that. Give him another month and he'll be a pretty fair shot. Up +till the time he struck this country, Roy had lived a soft city life. +He's beginning to toughen. The things that scare a man are those that +are mysteries to him. Any kid will fight his own brother because he +knows all about him, but he's plumb shy about tackling a strange boy. +Well, that's how it is with Roy. He has got the notion that Meldrum +and Charlton are terrors, but now he has licked them onc't, he won't +figure them out as so bad." + +"He didn't exactly lick them in a stand-up fight, Dave." + +"No, he just knocked them down and tromped on them and put them out of +business," agreed Dingwell dryly. + +The eyes of the little Irishman twinkled. "Brad Charlton is giving it +out that it was an accident." + +"That's what I'd call it, too, if I was Brad," assented the cattleman +with a grin. "But if we could persuade Roy to put over about one more +accident like that, I reckon Huerfano Park would let him alone." + +"While Jess Tighe is living?" + +Dingwell fell grave. "I'd forgotten Tighe. No, I expect the kid had +better keep his weather eye peeled as long as that castor-oil smile of +Jess is working." + + + + +Chapter XVIII + +Rutherford Answers Questions + +Beulah Rutherford took back with her to Huerfano Park an almost +intolerable resentment against the conditions of her life. She had the +family capacity for sullen silence, and for weeks a kind of despairing +rage simmered in her heart. She was essentially of a very direct, +simple nature, clear as Big Creek where it tumbled down from the top of +the world toward the foothills. An elemental honesty stirred in her. +It was necessary to her happiness that she keep her own self-respect +and be able to approve those she loved. + +Just now she could do neither. The atmosphere of the ranch seemed to +stifle her. When she rode out into a brave, clean world of sunshine, +the girl carried her shame along. Ever since she could remember, +outlaws and miscreants had slipped furtively about the suburbs of her +life. The Rutherfords themselves were a hard and savage breed. To +their door had come more than one night rider flying for his life, and +Beulah had accepted the family tradition of hospitality to those at +odds with society. + +A fierce, untamed girl of primitive instincts, she was the heritor of +the family temperament. But like threads of gold there ran through the +warp of her being a fineness that was her salvation. She hated +passionately cruelty and falsehood and deceit. All her life she had +walked near pitch and had never been defiled. + +Hal Rutherford was too close to her not to feel the estrangement of her +spirit. He watched her anxiously, and at last one morning he spoke. +She was standing on the porch waiting for Jeff to bring Blacky when +Rutherford came out and put his arm around her shoulder. + +"What is it, honey?" he asked timidly. + +"It's--everything," she answered, her gaze still on the distant hills. + +"You haven't quarreled with Brad?" + +"No--and I'm not likely to if he'll let me alone." + +Her father did not press the point. If Brad and she had fallen out, +the young man would have to make his own _amende_. + +"None of the boys been deviling you?" + +"No." + +"Aren't you going to tell dad about it, Boots?" + +Presently her dark eyes swept round to his. + +"Why did you say that you didn't know anything about the Western +Express robbery?" + +He looked steadily at her. "I didn't say that, Beulah. What I said +was that I didn't know where the stolen gold was hidden--and I didn't." + +"That was just an evasion. You meant me to think that we had had +nothing to do with the--the robbery." + +"That's right. I did." + +"And all the time--" She broke off, a sob choking her throat. + +"I knew who did it. That's correct. But I wasn't a party to the +robbery. I knew nothing about it till afterward." + +"I've always believed everything you've told me, dad. And now--" + +He felt doubt in her shaken voice. She did not know what to think now. +Rutherford set himself to clear away her suspicions. He chose to do it +by telling the exact truth. + +"Now you may still believe me, honey. The robbery was planned by +Tighe. I'll not mention the names of those in it. The day after it +was pulled off, I heard of it for the first time. Dave Dingwell knew +too much. To protect my friends I had to bring him up here. Legally +I'm guilty of abduction and of the train robbery, too, because I butted +in after the hold-up and protected the guilty ones. I even tried to +save for them the gold they had taken." + +"Were--any of the boys in it, dad?" she quavered. + +"One of them. I won't tell you which." + +"And Brad?" + +"We're not giving names, Boots." + +"Oh, well! I know he was one of them." She slipped her arm within her +father's and gave his hand a little pressure. "I'm glad you told me, +just the same, dad. I'd been thinking--worse things about you." + +"That's all right, honey. Now you won't worry any more, will you?" + +"I don't know. . . . That's not all that troubles me. I feel bad when +the boys drink and brawl. That attack on Mr. Beaudry at Battle Butte +was disgraceful," she flamed. "I don't care if he did come up here +spying. Why can't they let him alone?" + +He passed a hand in a troubled fashion through his grizzled hair. "You +can bet our boys won't touch him again, Boots. I've laid the law down. +But I can't answer for Tighe. He'll do him a meanness if he can, and +he'll do it quicker since I've broken off with him because you helped +Dingwell and Beaudry to escape. I don't know about Brad." + +"I told Brad if he touched him again, I would never speak to him." + +"Maybe that will hold him hitched, then. Anyhow, I'm not going to make +the young fellow trouble. I'd rather let sleeping dogs lie." + +Beulah pressed her arm against his. "I haven't been fair to you, dad. +I might have known you would do right." + +"I aim to stay friends with my little girl no matter what happens. +Yore mother gave you into my hands when she was dying and I promised to +be mother and father to you. Yore own father was my brother Anse. He +died before you were born. I've been the only dad you ever had, and I +reckon you know you've been more to me than any of my own boys." + +"You shouldn't say that," she corrected quickly. "I'm a girl, and, of +course, you spoil me more. That's all." + +She gave him a ferocious little hug and went quickly into the house. +Happiness had swept through her veins like the exquisite flush of dawn. +Her lustrous eyes were wells of glad tears. + +The owner of the horse ranch stood on the porch and watched a rider +coming out of the gulch toward him. The man descended heavily from his +horse and moved down the path. Rutherford eyed him grimly. + +"Well, I'm back," the dismounted horseman said surlily. + +"I see you are." + +"Got out of the hospital Thursday." + +"Hope you've made up yore mind to behave, Dan." + +"It doesn't hurt a man to take a drink onc't in a while." + +"Depends on the man. It put you in the hospital." + +Meldrum ripped out a sudden oath. "Wait. Just wait till I get that +pink-ear. I'll drill him full of holes right." + +"By God, you'll not!" Rutherford's voice was like the snap of a whip. +"Try it. Try it. I'll hunt you down like a wolf and riddle yore +carcass." + +In amazement the ex-convict stared at him. "What's ailin' you, +Rutherford?" + +"I'm through with you and Tighe. You'll stop making trouble or you'll +get out of here. I'm going to clean up the park--going to make it a +place where decent folks can live. You've got yore warning now, Dan. +Walk a straight chalk-line or hit the trail." + +"You can't talk that way to me, Rutherford. I know too much," +threatened Meldrum, baring his teeth. + +"Don't think it for a minute, Dan. Who is going to take yore word +against mine? I've got the goods on you. I can put you through for +rustling any time I have a mind to move. And if you don't let young +Beaudry alone, I'll do it." + +"Am I the only man that ever rustled? Ain't there others in the park? +I reckon you've done some night-riding yore own self." + +"Some," drawled Rutherford, with a grim little smile. "By and large, +I've raised a considerable crop of hell. But I'm reforming in my old +age. New Mexico has had a change of heart. Guns are going out, +Meldrum, and little red schoolhouses are coming in. We've got to keep +up with the fashions." + +"Hmp! Schoolhouses! I know what's ailin' you. Since Anse +Rutherford's girl--" + +"You're off the reservation, Dan," warned the rancher, and again his +low voice had the sting of cactus thorns in it. + +Meldrum dropped that subject promptly. "Is Buck going to join this +Sunday-School of yours?" he jeered. "And all the boys?" + +"That's the programme. Won't you come in, too?" + +"And Jess Tighe. He'll likely be one of the teachers." + +"You'd better ask him. He hasn't notified me." + +"Hell! You and yore kin have given the name to deviltry in this +country. Mothers scare their kids by telling them the Rutherfords will +git them." + +"Fact. But that's played out. My boys are grown up and are at the +turn of the trail. It hit me plumb in the face when you fools pulled +off that express robbery. It's a piece of big luck you're not all +headed for the penitentiary. I know when I've had enough. So now I +quit." + +"All right. Quit. But we haven't all got to go to the mourner's bench +with you, have we? You can travel yore trail and we can go ours, can't +we?" + +"Not when we're on the same range, Dan. What I say goes." The eyes of +Rutherford bored into the cruel little shifty ones of the bad man. +"Take yore choice, Dan. It's quit yore deviltry or leave this part of +the country." + +"Who elected you czar of Huerfano Park?" demanded Meldrum, furious with +anger. + +He glared at the ranchman impotently, turned away with a mumbled oath, +and went back with jingling spurs to his horse. + + + + +Chapter XIX + +Beaudry Blows a Smoke Wreath + +Royal Beaudry carried about with him in his work on the Lazy Double D +persistent memories of the sloe-eyed gypsy who had recently played so +large a part in his life. Men of imagination fall in love, not with a +woman, but with the mystery they make of her. The young cattleman was +not yet a lover, but a rumor of the future began to murmur in his ears. +Beulah Rutherford was on the surface very simple and direct, but his +thoughts were occupied with the soul of her. What was the girl like +whose actions functioned in courage and independence and harsh +hostility? + +Life had imposed on her a hard finish. But it was impossible for Roy +to believe that this slender, tawny child of the wind and the sun could +at heart be bitter and suspicious. He had seen the sweet look of her +dark-lashed eyes turned in troubled appeal upon her father. There had +been one hour when he had looked into her face and found it radiant, +all light and response and ecstasy. The emotion that had pulsed +through her then had given the lie to the sullen silence upon which she +fell back as a defense. If the gods were good to her some day, the red +flower of passion would bloom on her cheeks and the mists that dulled +her spirit would melt in the warm sunshine of love. + +So the dreamer wove the web of his fancy about her, and the mystery +that was Beulah Rutherford lay near his thoughts when he walked or rode +or ate or talked. + +Nor did it lessen his interest in her that he felt she despised him. +The flash of her scornful eyes still stung him. He was beyond caring +whether she thought him a spy. He knew that the facts justified him in +his attempt to save Dingwell. But he writhed that she should believe +him a coward. It came too close home. And since the affray in the +arcade, no doubt she set him down, too, as a drunken rowdy. + +He made the usual vain valorous resolutions of youth to show her his +heroic quality. These served at least one good purpose. If he could +not control his fears, he could govern his actions. Roy forced himself +by sheer will power to ride alone into Battle Butte once a week. +Without hurry he went about his business up and down Mission Street. + +The town watched him and commented. "Got sand in his craw, young +Beaudry has," was the common verdict. Men wondered what would happen +when he met Charlton and Meldrum. Most of them would have backed John +Beaudry's son both in their hopes and in their opinion of the result. + +Into saloons and gambling-houses word was carried, and from there to +the hillmen of the park by industrious peddlers of trouble, that the +young cattleman from the Lazy Double D could be found by his enemies +heeled for business whenever they wanted him. + +Charlton kept morosely to the park. If he had had nothing to consider +except his own inclination, he would have slapped the saddle upon a +cowpony and ridden in to Battle Butte at once. But Beulah had laid an +interdict upon him. For a year he had been trying to persuade her to +marry him, and he knew that he must say good-bye to his hopes if he +fought with his enemy. + +It was fear that kept Meldrum at home. He had been a killer, but the +men he had killed had been taken at advantage. It was one thing to +shoot this Beaudry cub down from ambush. It was another to meet him in +the open. Moreover, he knew the Rutherfords. The owner of the horse +ranch had laid the law down to him. No chance shot from the chaparral +was to cut down Dingwell's partner. + +The ex-convict listened to the whispers of Tighe. He brooded over +them, but he did not act on them. His alcohol-dulled brain told him +that he had reached the limit of public sufferance. One more killing +by him, and he would pay the penalty at the hands of the law. When he +took his revenge, it must be done so secretly that no evidence could +connect him with the crime. He must, too, have an _alibi_ acceptable +to Hal Rutherford. + +Meldrum carried with him to Battle Butte, on his first trip after the +arcade affair, a fixed determination to avoid Beaudry. In case he met +him, he would pass without speaking. + +But all of Meldrum's resolutions were apt to become modified by +subsequent inhibitions. In company with one or two cronies he made a +tour of the saloons of the town. At each of them he said, "Have +another," and followed his own advice to show good faith. + +On one of these voyages from port to port the bad man from Chicito +Canon sighted a tall, lean-flanked, long-legged brown man. He was +crossing the street so that the party came face to face with him at the +apex of a right angle. The tanned stranger in corduroys, hickory +shirt, and pinched-in hat of the range rider was Royal Beaudry. It was +with a start of surprise that Meldrum recognized him. His enemy was no +longer a "pink-ear." There was that in his stride, his garb, and the +steady look of his eye which told of a growing confidence and +competence. He looked like a horseman of the plains, fit for any +emergency that might confront him. + +Taken at advantage by the suddenness of the meeting, Meldrum gave +ground with a muttered oath. The young cattleman nodded to the trio +and kept on his way. None of the others knew that his heart was +hammering a tattoo against his ribs or that queer little chills chased +each other down his spine. + +Chet Fox ventured a sly dig at the ex-convict. "Looks a right healthy +sick man, Dan." + +"Who said he was sick?" growled Meldrum. + +"Didn't you-all say he was good as dead?" + +"A man can change his mind, Chet, can't he?" jeered Hart. + +The blotched face of the bad man grew purple. "That'll be about enough +from both of you. But I'll say this: when I get ready to settle with +Mr. Beaudry you can order his coffin." + +Nevertheless, Meldrum had the humiliating sense that he had failed to +live up to his reputation as a killer. He had promised Battle Butte to +give it something to talk about, but he had not meant to let the +whisper pass that he was a four-flusher. His natural recourse was to +further libations. These made for a sullen, ingrowing rage as the day +grew older. + +More than one well-meaning citizen carried to Roy the superfluous +warning that Meldrum was in town and drinking hard. The young man +thanked them quietly without comment. His reticence gave the +impression of strength. + +But Beaudry felt far from easy in mind. A good deal of water had +flowed under the Big Creek bridge since the time when he had looked +under the bed at nights for burglars. He had schooled himself not to +yield to the impulses of his rabbit heart, but the unexpected clatter +of hoofs still set his pulses a-flutter. Why had fate snatched so +gentle a youth from his law desk and flung him into such turbid waters +to sink or swim? All he had asked was peace--friends, books, a quiet +life. By some ironic quirk be found himself in scenes of battle and +turmoil. As the son of John Beaudry he was expected to show an +unflawed nerve, whereas his eager desire was to run away and hide. + +He resisted the first panicky incitement to fly back to the Lazy Double +D, and went doggedly about the business that had brought him to Battle +Butte. Roy had come to meet a cattle-buyer from Denver and the man had +wired that he would be in on the next train. Meanwhile Beaudry had to +see the blacksmith, the feed-store manager, the station agent, and +several others. + +This kept him so busy that he reached the Station only just in time to +meet the incoming train. He introduced himself to the buyer, captured +his suitcase, and turned to lead the way to the rig. + +Meldrum lurched forward to intercept him. "Shus' a moment." + +Roy went white. He knew the crisis was upon him. The right hand of +the hillman was hidden under the breast of his coat. Even the +cattle-buyer from Denver knew what was in that hand and edged toward +the train. For this ruffian was plainly working himself into a rage +sufficient to launch murder. + +"Yore father railroaded me to the penitentiary--cooked up testimony +against me. You bust me with a club when I wasn't looking. Here's +where I git even. See?" + +The imminence of tragedy had swept the space about them empty of +people. Roy knew with a sinking heart that it was between him and the +hillman to settle this alone. He had been caught with the suitcase in +his right hand, so that he was practically trapped unarmed. Before he +could draw his revolver, Meldrum would be pumping lead. + +Two months ago under similar circumstances terror had paralyzed Roy's +thinking power. Now his brain functioned in spite of his fear. He was +shaken to the center of his being, but he was not in panic. +Immediately he set himself to play the poor cards he found in his hand. + +"Liar!" Beaudry heard a chill voice say and knew it was his own. +"Liar on both counts! My father sent you up because you were a thief. +I beat your head off because you are a bully. Listen!" Roy shot the +last word out in crescendo to forestall the result of a convulsive +movement of the hand beneath his enemy's coat. "_Listen, if you want +to live the day out_, you yellow coyote!" + +Beaudry had scored his first point--to gain time for his argument to +get home to the sodden brain. Dave Dingwell had told him that most men +were afraid of something, though some hid it better than others; and he +had added that Dan Meldrum had the murderer's dread lest vengeance +overtake him unexpectedly. Roy knew now that his partner had spoken +the true word. At that last stinging sentence, alarm had jumped to the +blear eyes of the former convict. + +"Whadjamean?" demanded Meldrum thickly, the menace of horrible things +in his voice. + +"Mean? Why, this. You came here to kill me, but you haven't the nerve +to do it. You've reached the end of your rope, Dan Meldrum. You're a +killer, but you'll never kill again. Murder me, and the law would hang +you high as Haman--_if it ever got a chance_." + +The provisional clause came out with a little pause between each word +to stress the meaning. The drunken man caught at it to spur his rage. + +"Hmp! Mean you're man enough to beat the law to it?" + +Beaudry managed to get out a derisive laugh. "Oh, no! Not when I have +a suitcase in my right hand and you have the drop on me. I can't help +myself--_and twenty men see it_." + +"Think they'll help you?" Meldrum swept his hand toward the frightened +loungers and railroad officials. His revolver was out in the open now. +He let its barrel waver in a semi-circle of defiance. + +"No. They won't help me, but they'll hang you. There's no hole where +you can hide that they won't find you. Before night you'll be swinging +underneath the big live-oak on the plaza. That's a prophecy for you to +swallow, you four-flushing bully." + +It went home like an arrow. The furtive eyes of the killer slid +sideways to question this public which had scattered so promptly to +save itself. Would the mob turn on him later and destroy him? + +Young Beaudry's voice flowed on. "Even if you reached the hills, you +would be doomed. Tighe can't save you--and he wouldn't try. +Rutherford would wash his hands of you. They'll drag you back from +your hole." + +The prediction rang a bell in Meldrum's craven soul. Again he sought +reassurance from those about him and found none. In their place he +knew that he would revenge himself for present humiliation by cruelty +later. He was checkmated. + +It was an odd psychological effect of Beaudry's hollow defiance that +confidence flowed in upon him as that of Meldrum ebbed. The chill +drench of fear had lifted from his heart. It came to him that his +enemy lacked the courage to kill. Safety lay in acting upon this +assumption. + +He raised his left hand and brushed the barrel of the revolver aside +contemptuously, then turned and walked along the platform to the +building. At the door he stopped, to lean faintly against the jamb, +still without turning. Meldrum might shoot at any moment. It depended +on how drunk he was, how clearly he could vision the future, how +greatly his prophecy had impressed him. Cold chills ran up and down +the spinal column of the young cattleman. His senses were reeling. + +To cover his weakness Roy drew tobacco from his coat-pocket and rolled +a cigarette with trembling fingers. He flashed a match. A moment +later an insolent smoke wreath rose into the air and floated back +toward Meldrum. Roy passed through the waiting-room to the street +beyond. + +Young Beaudry knew that the cigarette episode had been the weak bluff +of one whose strength had suddenly deserted him. He had snatched at it +to cover his weakness. But to the score or more who saw that spiral of +smoke dissolving jauntily into air, no such thought was possible. The +filmy wreath represented the acme of dare-devil recklessness, the final +proof of gameness in John Beaudry's son. He had turned his back on a +drunken killer crazy for revenge and mocked the fellow at the risk of +his life. + +Presently Roy and the cattle-buyer were bowling down the street behind +Dingwell's fast young four-year-olds. The Denver man did not know that +his host was as weak from the reaction of the strain as a child +stricken with fear. + + + + +Chapter XX + +At the Lazy Double D + +Dingwell squinted over the bunch of cattle in the corral. "Twenty +dollars on the hoof, f.o.b. at the siding," he said evenly. "You to +take the run of the pen, no culls." + +"I heard you before," protested the buyer. "Learn a new song, +Dingwell. I don't like the tune of that one. Make it eighteen and let +me cull the bunch." + +Dave garnered a straw clinging to the fence and chewed it meditatively. +"Couldn't do it without hurting my conscience. Nineteen--no culls. +That's my last word." + +"I'd sure hate to injure your conscience, Dingwell," grinned the man +from Denver. "Think I'll wait till you go to town and do business with +your partner." + +"Think he's easy, do you?" + +"Easy!" The cattle-buyer turned the conversation to the subject +uppermost in his mind. He had already decided to take the cattle and +the formal agreement could wait. "Easy! Say, do you know what I saw +that young man put over to-day at the depot?" + +"I'll know when you've told me," suggested Dingwell. + +The Denver man told his story and added editorial comment. "Gamest +thing I ever saw in my life, by Jiminy--stood there with his back to +the man-killer and lit a cigarette while the ruffian had his finger on +the trigger of a six-gun ready to whang away at him. Can you beat +that?" + +The eyes of the cattleman gleamed, but his drawling voice was still +casual. "Why didn't Meldrum shoot?" + +"Triumph of mind over matter, I reckon. He _wanted_ to shoot--was +crazy to kill your friend. But--he didn't. Beaudry had talked him out +of it." + +"How?" + +"Bullied him out of it--jeered at him and threatened him and man-called +him, with that big gun shining in his eyes every minute of the time." + +Dingwell nodded slowly. He wanted to get the full flavor of this +joyous episode that had occurred. "And the kid lit his cigarette while +Meldrum, crazy as a hydrophobia skunk, had his gun trained on him?" + +"That's right. Stood there with a kind o' you-be-damned placard stuck +all over him, then got out the makings and lit up. He tilted back that +handsome head of his and blew a smoke wreath into the air. Looked like +he'd plumb wiped Mr. Meldrum off his map. He's a world-beater, that +young fellow is--doesn't know what fear is," concluded the buyer sagely. + +"You don't say!" murmured Mr. Dingwell. + +"Sure as you're a foot high. While I was trying to climb up the side +of a railroad car to get out of range, that young guy was figuring it +all out. He was explaining thorough to the bad man what would happen +if he curled his fore-finger another quarter of an inch. Just as cool +and easy, you understand." + +"You mean that he figured out his chances?" + +"You bet you! He figured it all out, played a long shot, and won. The +point is that it wouldn't help him any if this fellow Meldrum starred +in a subsequent lynching. The man had been drinking like a blue +blotter. Had he sense enough left to know his danger? Was his brain +steady enough to hold him in check? Nobody could tell that. But your +partner gambled on it and won." + +This was meat and drink to Dave. He artfully pretended to make light +of the whole affair in order to stir up the buyer to more details. + +"I reckon maybe Meldrum was just bluffing. Maybe--" + +"Bluffing!" The Coloradoan swelled. "Bluffing! I tell you there was +murder in the fellow's eye. He had come there primed for a killing. +If Beaudry had weakened by a hair's breadth, that forty-four would have +pumped lead into his brain. Ask the train crew. Ask the station +agent. Ask any one who was there." + +"Maybeso," assented Dave dubiously. "But if he was so game, why didn't +Beaudry go back and take Meldrum's gun from him?" + +The buyer was on the spot with an eager, triumphant answer. "That just +proves what I claim. He just brushed the fellow's gun aside and acted +like he'd forgot the killer had a gun. 'Course, he could 'a' gone back +and taken the gun. After what he'd already pulled off, that would have +been like stealing apples from a blind Dutchman. But Beaudry wasn't +going to give him that much consideration. Don't you see? Meldrum, or +whatever his name is, was welcome to keep the revolver to play with. +Your friend didn't care how many guns he was toting." + +"I see. It he had taken the gun, Meldrum might have thought he was +afraid of him." + +"Now you're shouting. As it is the bad man is backed clear off the +earth. It's like as if your partner said, 'Garnish yourself with +forty-fours if you like, but don't get gay around me.'" + +"So you think--" + +"I think he's some bear-cat, that young fellow. When you 're looking +for something easy to mix with, go pick a grizzly or a wild cat, but +don't you monkey with friend Beaudry. He's liable to interfere with +your interior geography. . . . Say, Dingwell. Do I get to cull this +bunch of longhorn skeletons you're misnaming cattle?" + +"You do not." + +The Denver man burlesqued a sigh. "Oh, well! I'll go broke dealing +with you unsophisticated Shylocks of the range. The sooner the +quicker. Send 'em down to the siding. I'll take the bunch." + +Roy rode up on a pinto. + +"Help! Help!" pleaded the Coloradoan of the young man. + +"He means that I've unloaded this corral full of Texas dinosaurs on him +at nineteen a throw." explained Dave. + +"You've made a good bargain," Beaudry told the buyer. + +"'Course he has, and he knows it." Dingwell opened on Roy his gay +smile. "I hear you've had a run-in with the bad man of Chicito Canon, +son." + +Roy looked at the Denver man reproachfully. Ever since the affair on +the station platform he had been flogging himself because he had driven +away and left Meldrum in possession of the field. No doubt all Battle +Butte knew now how frightened he had been. The women were gossiping +about it over their tea, probably, and men were retailing the story in +saloons and on sidewalks. + +"I didn't want any trouble," he said apologetically. "I--I just left +him." + +"That's what I've been hearing," assented Dave dryly. "You merely +showed him up for a false alarm and kicked him into the discard. +That's good, and it's bad. We know now that Meldrum won't fight you in +the open. You've got him buffaloed. But he'll shoot you in the back +if he can do it safely. I know the cur. After this don't ride alone, +Roy, and don't ride that painted hoss at all. Get you a nice quiet +buckskin that melts into the atmosphere like a patch of bunch grass. +Them's my few well-chosen words of advice, as Manana Bill used to say." + +Three days later Beaudry, who had been superintending the extension of +an irrigation ditch, rode up to the porch of the Lazy Double D ranch +house and found Hal Rutherford, senior, with his chair tilted back +against the wall. The smoke of his pipe mingled fraternally with that +of Dingwell's cigar. He nodded genially to Roy without offering to +shake hands. + +"Mr. Rutherford dropped in to give us the latest about Meldrum," +explained Dave. "Seems he had warned our friend the crook to lay off +you, son. When Dan showed up again at the park, he bumped into Miss +Beulah and said some pleasant things to her. He hadn't noticed that +Jeff was just round the corner of the schoolhouse fixing up some dingus +as a platform for the last day's speaking. Jeff always was hot-headed. +Before he had got through with Mr. Meldrum, he had mussed his hair up +considerable. Dan tried to gun him and got an awful walloping. He hit +the trail to Jess Tighe's place. When Mr. Rutherford heard of it, he +was annoyed. First off, because of what had happened at the depot. +Second, and a heap more important, because the jailbird had threatened +Miss Beulah. So he straddled a horse and called on Dan, who shook the +dust of Huerfano Park from his bronco's hoofs _poco tiempo_." + +"Where has he gone?" asked Roy. + +"Nobody knows, and he won't tell. But, knowing Meldrum as we do, +Rutherford and I have come to a coincidentical opinion, as you might +say. He's a bad actor, that bird. We figure that he's waiting in the +chaparral somewhere to pull off a revenge play, after which he means +_pronto_ to slide his freight across the line to the land of old Porf. +Diaz." + +"Revenge--on Jeff Rutherford--or who?" + +"Son, that's a question. But Jeff won't be easily reached. On the +whole, we think you're elected." + +Roy's heart sank. If Meldrum had been kicked out of Huerfano Park, +there was no room for him in New Mexico. Probably the fear of the +Rutherfords had been a restraint upon him up to this time. But now +that he had broken with them and was leaving the country, the man was +free to follow the advice of Tighe. He was a bully whose prestige was +tottering. It was almost sure that he would attempt some savage act of +reprisal before he left. Beaudry had no doubt that he would be the +victim of it. + +"What am I to do, then?" he wanted to know, his voice quavering. + +"Stay right here at the ranch. Don't travel from the house till we +check up on Meldrum. Soon as he shows his hand, we'll jump him and run +him out of the country. All you've got to do is to sit tight till we +locate him." + +"I'll not leave the house," Roy vowed fervently. + + + + +Chapter XXI + +Roy Rides his Paint Hoss + +But he did. + +For next day Pat Ryan rode up to the Lazy Double D with a piece of news +that took Roy straight to his pinto. Beulah Rutherford had +disappeared. She had been out riding and Blacky had come home with an +empty saddle. So far as was known, Brad Charlton had seen her last. +He had met her just above the Laguna Sinks, had talked with her, and +had left the young woman headed toward the mountains. + +The word had reached Battle Butte through Slim Sanders, who had been +sent down from Huerfano Park for help. The Rutherfords and their +friends were already combing the hills for the lost girl, but the owner +of the horse ranch wanted Sheriff Sweeney to send out posses as a +border patrol. Opinion was divided. Some thought Beulah might have +met a grizzly, been unhorsed, and fallen a victim to it. There was the +possibility that she might have stumbled while climbing and hurt +herself. According to Sanders, her father held to another view. He +was convinced that Meldrum was at the bottom of the thing. + +This was Roy's instant thought, too. He could not escape the sinister +suggestion that through the girl the ruffian had punished them all. +While he gave sharp, short orders to get together the riders of the +ranch, his mind was busy with the situation. Had he better join +Sweeney's posse and patrol the desert? Or would he help more by +pushing straight into the hills? + +Dingwell rode up and looked around in surprise. "What's the stir, son?" + +His partner told him what he had heard and what he suspected. + +Before he answered, Dave chewed a meditative cud. "Maybeso you're +right--and maybe 'way off. Say you're wrong. Say Meldrum has nothing +to do with this. In that case it is in the hills that we have got to +find Miss Beulah." + +"But he has. I feel sure he has. Mr. Ryan says Rutherford thinks so, +too." + +"Both you and Hal have got that crook Meldrum in yore minds. You've +been thinking a lot about him, so you jump to the conclusion that what +you're afraid of has happened. The chances are ten to one against it. +But we'll say you're right. Put yourself in Meldrum's place. What +would he do?" + +Beaudry turned a gray, agonized face on his friend. "I don't know. +What--what would he do?" + +"The way to get at it is to figure yourself in his boots. Remember +that you're a bad, rotten lot, cur to the bone. You meet up with this +girl and get her in yore power. You've got a grudge against her +because she spoiled yore plans, and because through her you were handed +the whaling of yore life and are being hounded out of the country. +You're sore clear through at all her people and at all her friends. +Naturally, you're as sweet-tempered as a sore-headed bear, and you've +probably been drinking like a sheepherder on a spree." + +"I know what a devil he is. The question is how far would he dare go?" + +"You've put yore finger right on the point, son. What might restrain +him wouldn't be any moral sense, but fear. He knows that once he +touched Miss Rutherford, this country would treat him like a +rattlesnake. He could not even be sure that the Rutherfords would not +hunt him down in Mexico." + +"You think he would let her alone, then?" + +The old-timer shook his head. "No, he wouldn't do that. But I reckon +he'd try to postpone a decision as long as he could. Unless he +destroyed her in the first rush of rage, he wouldn't have the nerve to +do it until he had made himself crazy drunk. It all depends on +circumstances, but my judgment is--if he had a chance and if he didn't +think it too great a risk--that he would try to hold her a prisoner as +a sort of hostage to gloat over." + +"You mean keep her--unharmed?" + +They were already in the saddle and on the road. Dave looked across at +his white-faced friend. + +"I'm only guessing, Roy, but that's the way I figure it," he said +gently. + +"You don't think he would try to take her across the desert with him to +Mexico." + +Ryan shook his head. + +"No chance. He couldn't make it. When he leaves the hills, Miss +Rutherford will stay there." + +"Alive?" asked Beaudry from a dry throat. + +"Don't know." + +"God!" + +"So that whether Miss Beulah did or did not meet Meldrum, we have to +look for her up among the mountains of the Big Creek watershed," +concluded Dingwell. "I believe we'll find her safe and sound. Chances +are Meldrum isn't within forty miles of her." + +They were riding toward Lonesome Park, from which they intended to work +up into the hills. Just before reaching the rim of the park, they +circled around a young pine lying across the trail. Roy remembered the +tree. It had stood on a little knoll, strong and graceful, reaching +straight toward heaven with a kind of gallant uprightness. Now its +trunk was snapped, its boughs crushed, its foliage turning sere. An +envious wind had brought it low. Somehow that pine reminded Beaudry +poignantly of the girl they were seeking. She, too, had always stood +aloof, a fine and vital personality, before the eyes of men sufficient +to herself. But as the evergreen had stretched its hundred arms toward +light and sunshine, so Beulah Rutherford had cried dumbly to life for +some vague good she could not formulate. + +Were her pride and courage abased, too? Roy would not let himself +believe it. The way of youth is to deny the truth of all signposts +which point to the futility of beauty and strength. It would be a kind +of apostasy to admit that her sweet, lissom grace might be forever +crushed and bruised. + +They rode hard and steadily. Before dusk they were well up toward the +divide among the wooded pockets of the hills. From one of these a man +came to meet them. + +"It's Hal Rutherford," announced Ryan, who was riding in front with +Dingwell. + +The owner of the horse ranch nodded a greeting as he drew up in front +of them. He was unshaven and gaunt. Furrows of anxiety lined his face. + +"Anything new, Hal?" asked Dave. + +"Not a thing. We're combing the hills thorough." + +"You don't reckon that maybe a cougar--?" Ryan stopped. It occurred +to him that his suggestion was not a very cheerful one. + +Rutherford looked at the little Irishman from bleak eyes. The misery +in them was for the moment submerged in a swift tide of hate. "A +two-legged cougar, Pat. If I meet up with him, I'll take his hide off +inch by inch." + +"Meaning Meldrum?" asked Roy. + +"Meaning Meldrum." A spasm of pain shot across the face of the man. +"If he's done my little girl any meanness, he'd better blow his head +off before I get to him." + +"Don't believe he'd dare hurt Miss Beulah, Rutherford. Meldrum belongs +to the coyote branch of the wolf family. I've noticed it's his night +to howl only when hunters are liable to be abed. If he's in this thing +at all, I'll bet he's trying to play both ends against the middle. +We'll sure give him a run for his white alley," Dingwell concluded. + +"Hope you're right, Dave," Rutherford added in a voice rough with the +feeling he could not suppress: "I appreciate it that you boys from the +Lazy Double D came after what has taken place." + +Dave grinned cheerfully. "Sho, Hal! Maybe Beaudry and I aren't +sending any loving-cups up to you and yours, but we don't pull any of +that sulk-in-the-tent stuff when our good friend Beulah Rutherford is +lost in the hills. She went through for us proper, and we ain't going +to quit till we bring her back to you as peart and sassy as that calf +there." + +"What part of the country do you want us to work?" asked Ryan. + +"You can take Del Oro and Lame Cow Creeks from the divide down to the +foothills," Rutherford answered. "I'll send one of the boys over to +boss the round-up. He'll know the ground better than you lads. Make +camp here to-night and he'll join you before you start. To-morrow +evening I'll have a messenger meet you on the flats. We're trying to +keep in touch with each other, you understand." + +Rutherford left them making camp. They were so far up in the mountains +that the night was cool, even though the season was midsummer. Unused +to sleeping outdoors as yet, Roy lay awake far into the night. His +nerves were jumpy. The noises of the grazing horses and of the +four-footed inhabitants of the night startled him more than once from a +cat-nap. His thoughts were full of Beulah Rutherford. Was she alive +or dead to-night, in peril or in safety? + +At last, in the fag end of the night, he fell into sound sleep that was +untroubled. From this he was wakened in the first dim dawn by the +sound of his companions stirring. A fire was already blazing and +breakfast in process of making. He rose and stretched his stiff limbs. +Every bone seemed to ache from contact with the hard ground. + +While they were eating breakfast, a man rode up and dismounted. A +long, fresh zigzag scar stretched across his forehead. It was as plain +to be seen as the scowl which drew his heavy eyebrows together. + +"'Lo, Charlton. Come to boss this round-up for us?" asked Dingwell +cheerily. + +The young man nodded sulkily. "Hal sent me. The boys weren't with +him." He looked across the fire at Beaudry, and there was smouldering +rage in his narrowed eyes. + +Roy murmured "Good-morning" in a rather stifled voice. This was the +first time he had met Charlton since they had clashed in the arcade of +the Silver Dollar. That long deep scar fascinated him. He felt an +impulse to apologize humbly for having hit him so hard. To put such a +mark on a man for life was a liberty that might well be taken as a +personal affront. No wonder Charlton hated him--and as their eyes met +now, Roy had no doubt about that. The man was his enemy. Some day he +would even the score. Again Beaudry's heart felt the familiar drench +of an icy wave. + +Charlton did not answer his greeting. He flushed to his throat, turned +abruptly on his heel, and began to talk with Ryan. The hillman wanted +it clearly understood that the feud he cherished was only temporarily +abandoned. But even Roy noticed that the young Admirable Crichton had +lost some of his debonair aplomb. + +The little Irishman explained this with a grin to Dave as they were +riding together half an hour later. "It's not so easy to get away with +that slow insolence of his while he's wearing that forgit-me-not young +Beaudry handed him in the mix-up." + +"Sort of spoils the toutensemble, as that young Melrose tenderfoot used +to say--kinder as if a bald-haided guy was playing Romeo and had lost +his wig in the shuffle," agreed Dave. + +By the middle of the forenoon they were well up in the headwaters of +the two creeks they were to work. Charlton divided the party so as to +cover both watersheds as they swept slowly down. Roy was on the +extreme right of those working Del Oro. + +It was a rough country, with wooded draws cached in unexpected pockets +of the hills. Here a man might lie safely on one of a hundred ledges +while the pursuit drove past within fifty feet of him. As Roy's pinto +clambered up and down the steep hills, he recalled the advice of Dave +to ride a buckskin "that melts into the atmosphere like a patch of +bunch grass." He wished he had taken that advice. A man looking for +revenge could crouch in the chaparral and with a crook of his finger +send winged death at his enemy. A twig crackling under the hoof of his +horse more than once sent an electric shock through his pulses. The +crash of a bear through the brush seemed to stop the beating of his +heart. + +Charlton had made a mistake in putting Beaudry on the extreme right of +the drive. The number of men combing the two creeks was not enough to +permit close contact. Sometimes a rider was within hail of his +neighbor. More often he was not. Roy, unused to following the rodeo, +was deflected by the topography of the ridge so far to the right that +he lost touch with the rest. + +By the middle of the afternoon he had to confess to himself with +chagrin that he did not even know how to reach Del Oro. While he had +been riding the rough wooded ridge above, the creek had probably made a +sharp turn to the left. Must he go back the way he had come? Or could +he cut across country to it? It was humiliating that he could not even +follow a small river without losing the stream and himself. He could +vision the cold sneer of Charlton when he failed to appear at the night +rendezvous. Even his friends would be annoyed at such helplessness. + +After an hour's vain search he was more deeply tangled in the web of +hills. He was no longer even sure how to get down from them into the +lower reaches of country toward which he was aiming. + +While he hesitated on a ridge there came to him a faint, far cry. He +gave a shout of relief, then listened for his answer. It did not come. +He called again, a third time, and a fourth. The wind brought back no +reply. Roy rode in the direction of the sound that had first +registered itself on his ears, stopping every minute or two to shout. +Once he fancied he heard again the voice. + +Then, unexpectedly, the cry came perfectly clear, over to the right +scarcely a hundred yards. A little arroyo of quaking aspens lay +between him and the one who called. He dismounted, tied his horse to a +sapling, and pushed through the growth of young trees. Emerging from +these, he climbed the brow of the hill and looked around. Nobody was +in sight. + +"Where are you?" he shouted. + +"Here--in the prospect hole." + +His pulses crashed. That voice--he would have known it out of a +million. + +A small dirt dump on the hillside caught his eye. He ran forward to +the edge of a pit and looked down. + +The haggard eyes of Beulah Rutherford were lifted to meet his. + + + + +Chapter XXII + +Miss Rutherford Speaks her Mind + +For the first time in over a year an itinerant preacher was to hold +services in the Huerfano Park schoolhouse. He would speak, Beulah +Rutherford knew, to a mere handful of people, and it was to mitigate +his disappointment that she rode out into the hills on the morning of +her disappearance to find an armful of columbines for decorating the +desk-pulpit. The man had written Miss Rutherford and asked her to +notify the community. She had seen that the news was carried to the +remotest ranch, but she expected for a congregation only a scatter of +patient women and restless children with three or four coffee-brown +youths in high-heeled boots on the back row to represent the sinners. + +It was a brave, clean world into which she rode this summer morning. +The breeze brought to her nostrils the sweet aroma of the sage. Before +her lifted the saw-toothed range into a sky of blue sprinkled here and +there with light mackerel clouds. Blacky pranced with fire and +intelligence, eager to reach out and leave behind him the sunny miles. + +Near the upper end of the park she swung up an arroyo that led to Big +Flat Top. A drawling voice stopped her. + +"Oh, you, Beulah Rutherford! Where away this glad mo'ning?" + +A loose-seated rider was lounging in the saddle on a little bluff fifty +yards away. His smile reminded her of a new copper kettle shining in +the sun. + +"To find columbines for church decorations," she said with an answering +smile. + +"Have you been building a church since I last met up with you?" + +"There will be services in the schoolhouse tomorrow at three P.M., +conducted by the Reverend Melancthon Smith. Mr. Charlton is especially +invited to attend." + +"Maybe I'll be there. You can't sometimes 'most always tell. I'm +going to prove I've got nothing against religion by going with you to +help gather the pulpit decorations." + +"That's very self-sacrificing of you." She flashed a look of gay +derision at him as he joined her. "Sure you can afford to waste so +much time?" + +"I don't call it wasted. But since you've invited me so hearty to your +picnic, I'd like to be sure you've got grub enough in the chuck wagon +for two," he said with a glance at her saddle-bags. + +"I'm not sure. Maybe you had better not come." + +"Oh, I'm coming if you starve me. Say, Beulah, have you heard about +Jess Tighe?" + +"What about him?" + +"He had a stroke last night. Doc Spindler thinks he won't live more +than a few hours." + +Beulah mused over that for a few moments without answer. She had no +liking for the man, but it is the way of youth to be shocked at the +approach of death. Yet she knew this would help to clear up the +situation. With the evil influence of Tighe removed, there would be a +chance for the park to develop along more wholesome lines. He had been +like a sinister shadow that keeps away the sunlight. + +She drew a deep breath. "I don't wish him any harm. But it will be a +good thing for all of us when he can't make us more sorrow and trouble." + +"He never made me any," Charlton answered. + +"Didn't he?" She looked steadily across at him. "You can't tell me he +didn't plan that express robbery, for instance." + +"Meaning that I was in the party that pulled it off?" he asked, +flushing. + +"I know well enough you were in it--knew it all along. It's the sort +of thing you couldn't keep out of." + +"How about Ned? Do you reckon he could keep out of it?" She detected +rising anger beneath his controlled voice. + +"Not with you leading him on." Her eyes poured scorn on him. "And I'm +sure he would appreciate your loyalty in telling me he was in it." + +"Why do you jump on me, then?" he demanded sulkily. "And I didn't say +Ned was in that hold-up--any more than I admit having been in it +myself. Are you trying to make trouble with me? Is that it?" + +"I don't care whether I make trouble with you or not. I'm not going to +pretend and make-believe, if that's what you want. I don't have to do +it." + +"I see you don't," he retorted bluntly. "I suppose you don't have to +mind your own business either." + +"It is my business when Ned follows you into robbery." + +"Maybe I followed him," he jeered. + +She bit back the tart answer on her tongue. What was the use of +quarreling? It used to be that they were good friends, but of late +they jangled whenever they met. Ever since the Western Express affair +she had held a grudge at him. Six months ago she had almost promised +to marry him. Now nothing was farther from her thoughts. + +But he was still very much of the mind that she should. + +"What's the matter with you, Boots?" he wanted to know roughly. "You +used to have some sense. You weren't always flying out at a fellow. +Now there's no way of pleasing you." + +"I suppose it is odd that I don't want my friends to be thieves," she +flung out bitterly. + +"Don't use that word if you mean me," he ordered. + +"What word shall I substitute?" + +He barely suppressed an oath. "I know what's ailing you? We're not +smooth enough up here for you. We're not educated up to your standard. +If I'd been to Cornell, say--" + +"Take care," she warned with a flash of anger in her black eyes. + +"Oh, I don't know. Why should I cull my words so careful? I notice +yours ain't hand-picked. Ever since this guy Beaudry came spying into +the park, you've had no use for me. You have been throwing yourself at +his head and couldn't see any one else." + +She gasped. "How dare you, Brad Charlton?" + +His jealousy swept away the prudence that had dammed his anger. +"Didn't you take him out driving? Didn't you spend a night alone with +him and Dave Dingwell? Didn't you hot-foot it down to Hart's because +you was afraid yore precious spy would meet up with what he deserved?" + +Beulah drew up Blacky abruptly. "Now you can leave me. Don't stop to +say good-bye. I hate you. I don't ever want to see you again." + +He had gone too far and he knew it. Sulkily he began to make his +apology. "You know how fond I am of you, Boots. You know--" + +"Yes, I ought to. I've heard it often enough," she interrupted curtly. +"That's probably why you insult me?" + +Her gypsy eyes stabbed him. She was furiously angry. He attempted to +explain. "Now, listen here, Beulah. Let's be reasonable." + +"Are you going up or down?" she demanded. "I'm going the other way. +Take one road or the other, you--you scandalmonger." + +Never a patient man, he too gave rein to his anger. "Since you want to +know, I'm going down--to Battle Butte, where I'll likely meet yore +friend Beaudry and settle an account or two with him. I reckon before +I git through with him he'll yell something besides Cornell." + +The girl laughed scornfully. "Last time I saw him he had just beaten a +dozen or so of you. How many friends are you going to take along this +trip?" + +Already her horse was taking the trail. She called the insult down to +him over her shoulder. But before she had gone a half-mile her eyes +were blind with tears. Why did she get so angry? Why did she say such +things? Other girls were ladylike and soft-spoken. Was there a streak +of commonness in her that made possible such a scene as she had just +gone through? In her heart she longed to be a lady--gentle, refined, +sweet of spirit. Instead of which she was a bad-tempered tomboy. +"Miss Spitfire" her brothers sometimes called her, and she knew the +name was justified. + +Take this quarrel now with Brad. She had had no intention of breaking +with him in that fashion. Why couldn't she dismiss a lover as girls in +books do, in such a way as to keep him for a friend? She had not +meant, anyhow, to bring the matter to issue to-day. One moment they +had been apparently the best of comrades. The next they had been +saying hateful things to each other. What he had said was +unforgivable, but she had begun by accusing him of complicity in the +train robbery. Knowing how arrogant he was, she might have guessed how +angry criticism would make him. + +Yet she was conscious of a relief that it was over with at last. +Charlton was proud. He would leave her alone unless she called him to +her side. Her tears were for the humiliating way in which they had +wrenched apart rather than for the fact of the break. + +She knew his temper. Nothing on earth could keep him from flying at +the throat of Roy Beaudry now. Well, she had no interest in either of +them, she reminded herself impatiently. It was none of her business +how they settled their differences. Yet, as Blacky followed the stiff +trail to Big Flat Top, her mind was wretchedly troubled. + +Beulah had expected to find her columbines in a gulch back of Big Flat +Top, but the flowers were just past their prime here. The petals fell +fluttering at her touch. She hesitated. Of course, she did not have +to get columbines for the preaching service. Sweet-peas would do very +well. But she was a young woman who did not like to be beaten. She +had plenty of time, and she wanted an excuse to be alone all day. Why +not ride over to Del Oro Creek, where the season was later and the +columbines would be just coming on? + +The ayes had it, and presently Miss Rutherford was winding deeper into +the great hills that skirted Flat Top. Far in the gulches, dammed by +the small thick timber, she came on patches of snow upon which the sun +never shone. Once a ptarmigan started from the brush at her feet. An +elk sprang up from behind a log, stared at her, and crashed away +through the fallen timber. + +Her devious road took Beulah past a hill flaming with goldenrod and +Indian paint-brushes. A wealth of color decorated every draw, for up +here at the roots of the peaks blossoms rioted in great splashes that +ran to the snowbanks. + +After all, she had to go lower for her favorite blooms. On Del Oro she +found columbines, but in no great profusion. She wandered from the +stream, leading Blacky by the bridle. On a hillside just above an +aspen grove the girl came upon scattered clumps of them. Tying the +pony loosely to a clump of bushes, she began to gather the delicate +blue wild flowers. + +The blossoms enticed her feet to the edge of a prospect hole long since +abandoned. A clump of them grew from the side of the pit about a foot +below the level of the ground. Beulah reached for them, and at the +same moment the ground caved beneath her feet. She clutched at a bush +in vain as she plunged down. + +Jarred by the fall, Beulah lay for a minute in a huddle at the bottom +of the pit. She was not quite sure that no bones were broken. Before +she had time to make certain, a sound brought her rigidly to her feet. +It was a light loose sound like the shaking of dried peas in their +pods. No dweller of the outdoors Southwest could have failed to +recognize it, and none but would have been startled by it. + +The girl whipped her revolver from its scabbard and stood pressed +against the rock wall while her eyes searched swiftly the prison into +which she had fallen. Again came that light swift rattle with its +sinister menace. + +The enemy lay coiled across the pit from her, head and neck raised, +tongue vibrating. Beulah fired--once--twice--a third time. It was +enough. The rattlesnake ceased writhing. + +The first thing she did was to examine every inch of her prison to make +sure there were no more rattlers. Satisfied as to this, she leaned +faintly against the wall. The experience had been a shock even to her +sound young nerves. + + + + +Chapter XXIII + +In the Pit + +Beulah shut her eyes to steady herself. From the impact of her fall +she was still shaken. Moreover, though she had shot many a +rattlesnake, this was the first time she had ever been flung head first +into the den of one. It would have been easy to faint, but she denied +herself the luxury of it and resolutely fought back the swimming +lightness in her head. + +Presently she began to take stock of her situation. The prospect hole +was circular in form, about ten feet across and nine feet deep. The +walls were of rock and smooth clay. Whatever timbering had been left +by the prospector was rotted beyond use. It crumbled at the weight of +her foot. + +How was she to get out? Of course, she would find some way, she told +herself. But how? Blacky was tied to a bush not fifty yards away, and +fastened to the saddle horn was the rope that would have solved her +problem quickly enough. If she had it here--But it might as well be at +Cheyenne for all the good it would do her now. + +Perhaps she could dig footholds in the wall by means of which she could +climb out. Unbuckling the spur from her heel, she used the rowel as a +knife to jab a hole in the clay. After half an hour of persistent work +she looked at the result in dismay. She had gouged a hollow, but it +was not one where her foot could rest while she made steps above. + +Every few minutes Beulah stopped work to shout for help. It was not +likely that anybody would be passing. Probably she had been the only +person on this hill for months. But she dared not miss any chance. + +For it was coming home to her that she might die of starvation in this +prison long before her people found the place. By morning search +parties would be out over the hills looking for her. But who would +think to find her away over on Del Oro? If Brad had carried out his +threat immediately and gone down to Battle Butte, nobody would know +even the general direction in which to seek. + +With every hour Beulah grew more troubled. Late in the afternoon she +fired a fourth shot from her revolver in the hope that some one might +hear the sound and investigate. The sun set early for her. She +watched its rays climb the wall of her prison while she worked +half-heartedly with the spur. After a time the light began to fade, +darkness swept over the land, and she had to keep moving in order not +to chill. + +Never had she known such a night. It seemed to the tortured girl that +morning would never come. She counted the stars above her. Sometimes +there were more. Sometimes fewer. After an eternity they began to +fade out in the sky. Day was at hand. + +She fired the fifth shot from her revolver. Her voice was hoarse from +shouting, but she called every few minutes. Then, when she was at the +low ebb of hope, there came an answer to her call. She fired her last +shot. She called and shouted again and again. The voice that came +back to her was close at hand. + +"I'm down in the prospect hole," she cried. Another moment, and she +was looking up into the face of a man, Dan Meldrum. In vacant +astonishment he gazed down at her. + +"Whad you doing here?" he asked roughly. + +"I fell in. I've been here all night." Her voice broke a little. +"Oh, I'm so glad you've come." + +It was of no importance that he was a man she detested, one who had +quarreled with her father and been thrashed by her brother for +insulting her. All she thought of was that help had come to her at +last and she was now safe. + +He stared down at her with a kind of drunken malevolence. + +"So you fell in, eh?" + +"Yes. Please help me out right away. My riata is tied to Blacky's +saddle." + +He looked around. "Where?" + +"Isn't Blacky there? He must have broken loose, then. Never mind. +Pass me down the end of a young sapling and you can pull me up." + +"Can I?" + +For the first time she felt a shock of alarm. There was in his voice +something that chilled her, something inexpressibly cruel. + +"I'll see my father rewards you. I'll see you get well paid," she +promised, and the inflection of the words was an entreaty. + +"You will, eh?" + +"Anything you want," she hurried on. "Name it. If we can give it to +you, I promise it." + +His drunken brain was functioning slowly. This was the girl who had +betrayed him up in Chicito Canon, the one who had frustrated his +revenge at Hart's. On account of her young Rutherford had given him +the beating of his life and Hal had driven him from Huerfano Park. +First and last she was the rock upon which his fortunes had split. Now +chance had delivered her into his hands. What should he do with her? +How could he safely make the most of the opportunity? + +It did not for an instant occur to him to haul her from the pit and +send her rejoicing on the homeward way. He intended to make her pay in +full. But how? How get his revenge and not jeopardize his own safety? + +"Won't you hurry, please?" she pleaded. "I'm hungry--and thirsty. +I've been here all night and most of yesterday. It's been . . . rather +awful." + +He rubbed his rough, unshaven cheek while his little pig eyes looked +down into hers. "That so? Well, I dunno as it's any business of mine +where you spend the night or how long you stay there. I had it put up +to me to lay off 'n interfering with you. Seems like yore family got +notions I was insulting you. That young bully Jeff jumped me whilst I +wasn't looking and beat me up. Hal Rutherford ordered me to pull my +freight. That's all right. I won't interfere in what don't concern +me. Yore family says 'Hands off!' Fine. Suits me. Stay there or get +out. It's none of my business. See?" + +"You don't mean you'll . . . leave me here?" she cried in horror. + +"Sure," he exulted. "If I pulled you out of there, like as not you'd +have me beat up again. None o' my business! That's what yore folks +have been drilling into me. I reckon they're right. Anyhow, I'll play +it safe." + +"But--Oh, you can't do that. Even you can't do such a thing," she +cried desperately. "Why, men don't do things like that." + +"Don't they? Watch me, missie." He leaned over the pit, his broken, +tobacco-stained teeth showing in an evil grin. "Just keep an eye on +yore Uncle Dan. Nobody ever yet done me a meanness and got away with +it. I reckon the Rutherfords won't be the first. It ain't on the +cyards," he boasted. + +"You're going away . . . to leave me here . . . to starve?" + +"Who said anything about going away? I'll stick around for a while. +It's none of my business whether you starve or live high. Do just as +you please about that. I'll let you alone, like I promised Jeff I +would. You Rutherfords have got no call to object to being starved, +anyhow. _Whad you do to Dave Dingwell in Chicito_?" + +After all, she was only a girl in spite of her little feminine +ferocities and her pride and her gameness. She had passed through a +terrible experience, had come out of it to apparent safety and had been +thrown back into despair. It was natural that sobs should shake her +slender body as she leaned against the quartz wall of her prison and +buried her head in her forearm. + +When presently the sobs grew fewer and less violent, Beulah became +aware without looking up that her tormentor had taken away his +malignant presence. This was at first a relief, but as the hours +passed an acute fear seized her. Had he left her alone to die? In +spite of her knowledge of the man, she had clung to the hope that he +would relent. But if he had gone-- + +She began again to call at short intervals for help. Sometimes tears +of self-pity choked her voice. More than once she beat her brown fists +against the rock in an ecstasy of terror. + +Then again he was looking down at her, a hulk of venom, eyes bleared +with the liquor he had been drinking. + +"Were you calling me, missie?" he jeered. + +"Let me out," she demanded. "When my brothers find me--" + +"If they find you," he corrected with a hiccough. + +"They'll find me. By this time everybody in Huerfano Park is searching +for me. Before night half of Battle Butte will be in the saddle. +Well, when they find me, do you think you won't be punished for this?" + +"For what?" demanded the man. "You fell in. I haven't touched you." + +"Will that help you, do you think?" + +His rage broke into speech. "You're aimin' to stop my clock, are you? +Take another guess, you mischief-making vixen. What's to prevent me +from emptying my forty-four into you when I get good and ready, then +hitting the trail for Mexico?" + +She knew he was speaking the thoughts that had been drifting through +his mind in whiskey-lit ruminations. That he was a wanton killer she +had always heard. If he could persuade himself it could be done with +safety, he would not hesitate to make an end of her. + +This was the sort of danger she could fight against--and she did. + +"I'll tell you what's to prevent you," she flung back, as it were in a +kind of careless scorn. "Your fondness for your worthless hide. If +they find me shot to death, they will know who did it. You couldn't +hide deep enough in Chihuahua to escape them. My father would never +rest till he had made an end of you." + +Her argument sounded appallingly reasonable to him. He knew the +Rutherfords. They would make him pay his debt to them with usury. + +To stimulate his mind he took another drink, after which he stared down +at her a long time in sullen, sulky silence. She managed at the same +time to irritate him and tempt him and fill his coward heart with fear +of consequences. Through the back of his brain from the first there +had been filtering thoughts that were like crouching demons. They +reached toward her and drew back in alarm. He was too white-livered to +go through with his villainy boldly. + +He recorked the bottle and put it in his hip pocket. "'Nough said," he +blustered. "Me, I'll git on my hawss and be joggin' along to Mex. +I'll take chances on their finding you before you're starved. After +that it won't matter to me when they light on yore body." + +"Oh, yes, it will," she corrected him promptly, "I'm going to write a +note and tell just what has happened. It will be found beside me in +case they . . . don't reach here in time." + +The veins in his blotched face stood out as he glared down at her while +he adjusted himself to this latest threat. Here, too, she had him. He +had gone too far. Dead or alive, she was a menace to his safety. + +Since he must take a chance, why not take a bigger one, why not follow +the instigation of the little crouching devils in his brain? He leered +down at her with what was meant to be an ingratiating smile. + +"Sho! What's the use of we 'uns quarreling, Miss Beulah? I ain't got +nothing against you. Old Dan he always liked you fine. I reckon you +didn't know that, did you?" + +Her quick glance was in time to catch his face napping. The keen eyes +of the girl pounced on his and dragged from them a glimpse of the +depraved soul of the ruffian. Silently and warily she watched him. + +"I done had my little joke, my dear," he went on. "Now we'll be heap +good friends. Old Dan ain't such a bad sort. There's lots of folks +worse than Dan. That's right. Now, what was that you said a while ago +about giving me anything I wanted?" + +"I said my father would pay you anything in reason." Her throat was +parched, but her eyes were hard and bright. No lithe young panther of +the forest could have been more alert than she. + +"Leave yore dad out of it. He ain't here, and, anyway, I ain't having +any truck with him. Just say the word, Miss Beulah, and I'll git a +pole and haul you up in a jiffy." + +Beulah made a mistake. She should have waited till she was out of the +pit before she faced the new issue. But her horror of the man was +overpowering. She unscabbarded swiftly the revolver at her side and +lifted it defiantly toward him. + +"I'll stay here." + +Again he foamed into rage. The girl had stalemated him once more. +"Then stay, you little wild cat. You've had yore chance. I'm through +with you." He bared his teeth in a snarling grin and turned his back +on her. + +Beulah heard him slouching away. Presently there came the sound of a +furiously galloping horse. The drumming of the hoofbeats died in the +distance. + +During the rest of the day she saw no more of the man. It swept over +her toward evening in a wave of despair that he had left her to her +fate. + + + + +Chapter XXIV + +The Bad Man Decides not to Shoot + +Beulah woke from a sleep of exhaustion to a world into which the +morning light was just beginning to sift. The cold had penetrated to +her bones. She was stiff and cramped and sore from the pressure of the +rock bed against her tender young flesh. For nearly two days she had +been without food or drink. The urge of life in her was at low tide. + +But the traditions among which she had been brought up made pluck a +paramount virtue. She pushed from her the desire to weep in self-pity +over her lot. Though her throat was raw and swollen, she called at +regular intervals during the morning hours while the sun climbed into +view of her ten-foot beat. Even when it rode the heavens a red-hot +cannon ball directly above her, the hoarse and lonely cry of the girl +echoed back from the hillside every few minutes. There were times when +she wanted to throw herself down and give up to despair, but she knew +there would be opportunity for that when she could no longer fight for +her life. The shadow was beginning to climb the eastern wall of the +pit before Beaudry's shout reached her ears faintly. Her first thought +was that she must already be delirious. Not till she saw him at the +edge of the prospect hole was she sure that her rescuer was a reality. + +At the first sight of her Roy wanted to trumpet to high heaven the joy +that flooded his heart. He had found her--alive. After the torment of +the night and the worry of the day he had come straight to her in his +wandering, and he had reached her in time. + +But when he saw her condition pity welled up in him. Dark hollows had +etched themselves into her cheeks. Tears swam in her eyes. Her lips +trembled weakly from emotion. She leaned against the side of the pit +to support her on account of the sudden faintness that engulfed her +senses. He knelt and stretched his hands toward her, but the pit was +too deep. + +"You'll have to get a pole or a rope," she told him quietly. + +Beaudry found the dead trunk of a young sapling and drew the girl up +hand over hand. On the brink she stumbled and he caught her in his +arms to save her from falling back into the prospect hole. + +For a moment she lay close to him, heart beating against heart. Then, +with a little sobbing sigh, she relaxed and began to weep. Her tears +tugged at his sympathy, but none the less the pulses pounded in his +veins. He held her tight, with a kind of savage tenderness, while his +body throbbed with the joy of her. She had come to him with the same +sure instinct that brings a child to its mother's arms. All her pride +and disdain and suspicion had melted like summer mists in her need of +the love and comfort he could give her. + +"It's all right now. You're safe. Nothing can hurt you," he promised. + +"I know, but you don't know--what--what--" She broke off, shuddering. + +Still with his arm about her, he led Beulah to his horse. Here he made +her sit down while he gave her water and food. Bit by bit she told him +the story of her experience. He suffered poignantly with her, but he +could not be grateful enough that the finger-tip of destiny had pointed +him to her prison. He thanked his rather vague gods that it had been +his footsteps rather than those of another man that had wandered here +to save her. + +What surprised and wholly delighted him was the feminine quality of +her. He had thought of her before as a wild young creature full of +pride and scorn and anger, but with a fine barbaric loyalty that might +yet redeem her from her faults. He had never met a young woman so +hard, so self-reliant. She had asked no odds because of her sex. Now +all this harshness had melted. No strange child could have been more +shy and gentle. She had put herself into his hands and seemed to trust +him utterly. His casual opinions were accepted by her as if they had +been judgments of Solomon. + +Roy spread his blankets and put the saddle-bags down for a pillow. + +"We're not going to stay here to-night, are we?" she asked, surprised. + +He smiled. "No, you're going to lie down and sleep for an hour. When +you wake, supper will be ready. You're all in now, but with a little +rest you will be fit to travel." + +"You won't go away while I sleep," she said. + +"Do you think it likely? No, you can't get rid of me that easy. I'm a +regular adhesive plaster for sticking." + +"I don't want to get rid of you," she answered naively. "I'd be afraid +without you. Will you promise to stay close all the time I sleep?" + +"Yes." + +"I know I won't sleep, but if you want me to try--" + +"I do." + +She snuggled down into the blankets and was asleep in five minutes. + +Beaudry watched her with hungry eyes. What was the use of denying to +himself that he loved her? If he had not known it before, the past +half-hour had made it clear to him. With those wan shadows below her +long eye-lashes and that charming manner of shy dependence upon him, +she was infinitely more attractive to him than she had ever been before. + +Beulah Rutherford was not the kind of girl he had thought of as a +sweetheart in his daydreams. His fancies had hovered hazily about some +imaginary college girl, one skilled in the finesse of the rules that +society teaches young women in self-defense. Instead, he had fallen in +love with a girl who could not play the social game at all. She was +almost the only one he had known who never used any perfume; yet her +atmosphere was fragrant as one of the young pines in her own mountain +park. The young school-teacher was vital, passionate, and--he +suspected--fiercely tender. For her lover there would be rare gifts in +her eyes, wonderful largesse in her smile. The man who could qualify +as her husband must be clean and four-square and game from the soles of +his feet up--such a man as Dave Dingwell, except that the cattleman was +ten years too old for her. + +Her husband! What was he thinking about? Roy brought his bolting +thoughts up with a round turn. There could be no question of marriage +between her father's daughter and his father's son. Hal Rutherford had +put that out of doubt on the day when he had ridden to the Elephant +Corral to murder Sheriff Beaudry. No decent man could marry the +daughter of the man who had killed his father in cold blood. Out of +such a wedding could come only sorrow and tragedy. + +And if this were not bar enough between them, there was another. +Beulah Rutherford could never marry a man who was a physical coward. +It was a dear joy to his soul that she had broken down and wept and +clung to him. But this was the sex privilege of even a brave woman. A +man had to face danger with a nerve of tested iron, and that was a +thing he could never do. + +Roy was stretched on the moss face down, his chin resting on the two +cupped palms of his hands. Suddenly he sat up, every nerve tense and +alert. Silently he got to his feet and stole down into the aspen +grove. With great caution he worked his way into the grove and peered +through to the hillside beyond. A man was standing by the edge of the +prospect hole. He was looking down into it. Young Beaudry recognized +the heavy, slouch figure at the first glance. + +Not for an instant did he hesitate about what he meant to do. The hour +had come when he and Dan Meldrum must have an accounting. From its +holster he drew his revolver and crept forward toward the bad man. His +eyes were cold and hard as chilled steel. He moved with the long, soft +stride of a panther crouched for the kill. Not till the whole thing +was over did he remember that for once the ghost of fear had been +driven from his soul. He thought only of the wrongs of Beulah +Rutherford, the girl who had fallen asleep in the absolute trust that +he would guard her from all danger. This scoundrel had given her two +days of living hell. Roy swore to pay the fellow in full. + +Meldrum turned. He recognized Beaudry with a snarl of rage and terror. +Except one of the Rutherfords there was no man on earth he less wanted +to meet. The forty-four in his hand jerked up convulsively. The +miscreant was in two minds whether to let fly or wait. + +Roy did not even falter in his stride. He did not raise the weapon in +his loosely hanging hand. His eyes bored as steadily as gimlets into +the craven heart of the outlaw. + +Meldrum, in a panic, warned him back. His nerve was gone. For two +days he had been drinking hard, but the liquor had given out at +midnight. He needed a bracer badly. This was no time for him to go +through with a finish fight against such a man as Beaudry. + +"Keep yore distance and tell me what you want," the ex-convict repeated +hoarsely. "If you don't, I'll gun you sure." + +The young cattleman stopped about five yards from him. He knew exactly +what terms he meant to give the enemy. + +"Put your gun up," he ordered sharply. + +"Who's with you?" + +"Never mind who is with me. I can play this hand alone. Put up that +gun and then we'll talk." + +That suited Meldrum. If it was a question of explanations, perhaps he +could whine his way out of this. What he had been afraid of was +immediate battle. One cannot talk bullets aside. + +Slowly he pushed his revolver into its holster, but the hand of the man +rested still on the butt. + +"I came back to help Miss Rutherford out of this prospect hole," he +whimperingly complained. "When onc't I got sober, I done recalled that +she was here. So I hit the trail back." + +Meldrum spoke the exact truth. When the liquor was out of him, he +became frightened at what he had done. He had visions of New Mexico +hunting him down like a wild dog. At last, unable to stand it any +longer, he had come back to free her. + +"That's good. Saves me the trouble of looking for you. I'm going to +give you a choice. You and I can settle this thing with guns right +here and now. That's one way out for you. I'll kill you where you +stand." + +"W--what's the other way?" stammered the outlaw. + +"The other way is for you to jump into that prospect hole. I'll ride +away and leave you there to starve." + +"Goddlemighty! You wouldn't do that," Meldrum wheedled. "I didn't go +for to hurt Miss Rutherford any. Didn't I tell you I was drunk?" + +"Dead or alive, you're going into that prospect hole. Make up your +mind to that." + +The bad man moistened his dry lips with the tip of his tongue. He +stole one furtive glance around. Could he gun this man and make his +getaway? + +"Are any of the Rutherfords back of that clump of aspens?" he asked in +a hoarse whisper. + +"Yes." + +"Do . . . do they know I'm here?" + +"Not yet." + +Tiny beads of sweat stood out on the blotched face of the rustler. He +was trapped. Even if he fired through the leather holster and killed +Beaudry, there would be no escape for him on his tired horse. + +"Gimme a chanc't," he pleaded desperately. "Honest to God, I'll clear +out of the country for good. I'll quit belling around and live decent. +I'll--" + +"You'll go into the pit." + +Meldrum knew as he looked into that white, set face that he had come to +his day of judgment. But he mumbled a last appeal. + +"I'm an old man, Mr. Beaudry. I ain't got many years--" + +"Have you made your choice?" cut in Roy coldly. + +"I'd do anything you say--go anywhere--give my Bible oath never to come +back." + +"Perhaps I'd better call Rutherford." + +The bad man made a trembling clutch toward him. "Don't you, Mr. +Beaudry. I'll--I'll go into the pit," he sobbed. + +"Get in, then." + +"I know you wouldn't leave me there to starve. That would be an awful +thing to do," the killer begged. + +"You're finding that out late. It didn't worry you when Dave Dingwell +was being starved." + +"I hadn't a thing to do with that--not a thing, Mr. Beaudry. Hal +Rutherford, he give the order and it was up to me to go through. +Honest, that was the way of it." + +"And you could starve a girl who needed your help. That was all right, +of course." + +"Mr. Beaudry, I--I was only learning her a lesson--just kinder playing, +y' understand. Why, I've knowed Miss Beulah ever since she was a +little bit of a trick. I wouldn't do her a meanness. It ain't +reasonable, now, is it?" + +The man fawned on Roy. His hands were shaking with fear. If it would +have done any good, he would have fallen on his knees and wept. The +sight of him made Roy sick. Was this the way _he_ looked when the +yellow streak was showing? + +"Jump into that pit," he ordered in disgust. "That is, unless you'd +rather I would call Rutherford." + +Meldrum shambled to the edge, sat down, turned, and slid into the +prospect hole. + +"I know it's only yore little joke, Mr. Beaudry," he whined. "Mebbe I +ain't jest been neighborly with you-all, but what I say is let bygones +be bygones. I'm right sorry. I'll go down with you to Battle Butte +and tell the boys I done wrong." + +"No, you'll stay here." + +Beaudry turned away. The muffled scream of the bad man followed him as +far as the aspens. + + + + +Chapter XXV + +Two and a Camp-Fire + +Roy worked his way through the aspens and returned to the place where +he had left Beulah. She was still sleeping soundly and did not stir at +his approach. Quietly he built a fire and heated water for coffee. +From his saddlebags he took sandwiches wrapped in a newspaper. Beside +the girl he put his canteen, a pocket comb, a piece of soap, and the +bandanna he wore around his neck. Then, reluctantly, he awakened her. + +"Supper will be served in just five minutes," he announced with a smile. + +She glanced at the scant toilet facilities and nodded her head +decisively. "Thank you, kind sir. I'll be on hand." + +The young woman rose, glanced in the direction of the aspens, gathered +up the supplies, and fled to the grove. The eyes of Beaudry followed +her flight. The hour of sleep had been enough to restore her +resilience. She moved with the strong lightness that always reminded +him of wild woodland creatures. + +In spite of her promise Beulah was away beyond the time limit. Beaudry +became a little uneasy. It was not possible, of course, that Meldrum +could have escaped from the pit. And yet-- + +He called to her. "Is every little thing all right, neighbor?" + +"All right," she answered. + +A moment later she emerged from the aspens and came toward the camp. +She was panting a little, as if she had been running. + +"Quite a hill," he commented. + +She gave him a quick glance. There was in it shy curiosity, but her +dark eyes held, too, an emotion more profound. + +"Yes," she said. "It makes one breathe fast." + +Miss Rutherford had improved her time. The disorderly locks had been +hairpinned into place. From her face all traces of the dried tears +were washed. Pit clay no longer stained the riding-skirt. + +Sandwiches and coffee made their meal, but neither of them had ever +more enjoyed eating. Beulah was still ravenously hungry, though she +restrained her appetite decorously. + +"I forgot to tell you that I am lost," he explained. "Unless you can +guide me out of this labyrinth of hills, we'll starve to death." + +"I can take you straight to the park." + +"But we're not going to the park. Everybody is out looking for you. +We are to follow Del Oro down to the flats. The trouble is that I've +lost Del Oro," he grinned. + +"It is just over the hill." + +After refreshments he brought up his pinto horse and helped her to the +saddle. She achieved the mount very respectably. With a confidential +little laugh she took him into the secret of her success. + +"I've been practicing with dad. He has to help me up every time I go +riding." + +They crossed to Del Oro in the dusk and followed the trail by the creek +in the moonlight. In the starlight night her dusky beauty set his +pulses throbbing. The sweet look of her dark-lashed eyes stirred +strange chaos in him. They talked little, for she, too, felt a +delicious emotion singing in the currents of her blood. When their shy +eyes met, it was with a queer little thrill as if they had kissed each +other. + +It was late when they reached the flats. There was no sign of +Charlton's party. + +"The flats run for miles each way. We might wander all night and not +find them," Beulah mentioned. + +"Then we'll camp right here and look for them in the morning," decided +Roy promptly. + +Together they built a camp-fire. Roy returned from picketing the horse +to find her sitting on a blanket in the dancing light of the flickering +flames. Her happy, flushed face was like the promise of a summer day +at dawn. + +In that immensity of space, with night's million candles far above them +and the great hills at their backs, the walls that were between them +seemed to vanish. + +Their talk was intimate and natural. It had the note of comradeship, +took for granted sympathy and understanding. + +He showed her the picture of his mother. By the fire glow she studied +it intently. Her eyes brimmed with tears. + +"She's so lovely and so sweet--and she had to go away and leave her +little baby when she was so young. I don't wonder you worship her. I +would, too." + +Roy did not try to thank her in words. He choked up in his throat and +nodded. + +"You can see how fine and dainty she was," the girl went on. "I'd +rather be like that than anything else in the world--and, of course, I +never can be." + +"I don't know what you mean," he protested warmly. "You're as fine as +they grow." + +She smiled, a little wistfully. "Nice of you to say so, but I know +better. I'm not a lady. I'm just a harum-scarum, tempery girl that +grew up in the hills. If I didn't know it, that wouldn't matter. But +I do know it, and so like a little idiot I pity myself because I'm not +like nice girls." + +"Thank Heaven, you're not!" he cried. "I've never met a girl fit to +hold a candle to you. Why, you're the freest, bravest, sweetest thing +that ever lived." + +The hot blood burned slowly into her cheek under its dusky coloring. +His words were music to her, and yet they did not satisfy. + +"You're wrapping it up nicely, but we both know that I'm a vixen when I +get angry," she said quietly. "We used to have an old Indian woman +work for us. When I was just a wee bit of a thing she called me Little +Cactus Tongue." + +"That's nothing. The boys were probably always teasing you and you +defended yourself. In a way the life you have led has made you hard. +But it is just a surface hardness nature has provided as a protection +to you." + +"Since it is there, I don't see that it helps much to decide why it is +a part of me," she returned with a wan little smile. + +"But it does," he insisted. "It matters a lot. The point is that it +isn't you at all. Some day you'll slough it the way a butterfly does +its shell." + +"When?" she wanted to know incredulously. + +He did not look at her while he blurted out his answer. "When you are +happily married to a man you love who loves you." + +"Oh! I'm afraid that will be never." She tried to say it lightly, but +her face glowed from the heat of an inward fire. + +"There's a deep truth in the story of the princess who slept the years +away until the prince came along and touched her lips with his. Don't +you think lots of people are hampered by their environment? All they +need is escape." He suggested this with a shy diffidence. + +"Oh, we all make that excuse for ourselves," she answered with a touch +of impatient scorn. "I'm all the time doing it. I say if things were +different I would be a nice, sweet-tempered, gentle girl and not fly +out like that Katherine in Shakespeare's play. But I know all the time +it isn't true. We have to conquer ourselves. There is no city of +refuge from our own temperaments." + +He felt sure there was a way out from her fretted life for this +deep-breasted, supple daughter of the hills if she could only find it. +She had breathed an atmosphere that made for suspicion and harshness. +All her years she had been forced to fight to save herself from shame. +But Roy, as he looked at her, imaged another picture of Beulah +Rutherford. Little children clung to her knees and called her +"Mother." She bent over them tenderly, her face irradiated with love. +A man whose features would not come clear strode toward her and the +eyes she lifted to his were pools of light. + +Beaudry drew a deep breath and looked away from her into the fire. "I +wish time would solve my problem as surely as it will yours," he said. + +She looked at him eagerly, lips parted, but she would not in words +invite his confession. + +The young man shaded his eyes with his hand as if to screen them from +the fire, but she noticed that the back of his hand hid them from her, +too. He found a difficulty in beginning. When at last he spoke, his +voice was rough with feeling. + +"Of course, you'll despise me--you of all people. How could you help +it?" + +Her body leaned toward him ever so slightly. Love lit her face like a +soft light. + +"Shall I? How do you know?" + +"It cuts so deep--goes to the bottom of things. If a fellow is wild or +even bad, he may redeem himself. But you can't make a man out of a +yellow cur. The stuff isn't there." The words came out jerkily as if +with some physical difficulty. + +"If you mean about coming up to the park, I know about that," she said +gently. "Mr. Dingwell told father. I think it was splendid of you." + +"No, that isn't it. I knew I was right in coming and that some day you +would understand." He dropped the hand from his face and looked +straight at her. "Dave didn't tell your father that I had to be +flogged into going, did he? He didn't tell him that I tried to dodge +out of it with excuses." + +"Of course, you weren't anxious to throw up your own affairs and run +into danger for a man you had never met. Why should you be wild for +the chance. But you went." + +"Oh, I went. I had to go. Ryan put it up to me so that there was no +escape," was his dogged, almost defiant, answer. + +"I know better," the girl corrected quickly. "You put it up to +yourself. You're that way." + +"Am I?" He flashed a questioning look at her. "Then, since you know +that, perhaps you know, too, what--what I'm trying to tell you." + +"Perhaps I do," she whispered softly to the fire. + +There was panic in his eyes. "--That . . . that I--" + +"--That you are sensitive and have a good deal of imagination," the +girl concluded gently. + +"No, I'll not feed my vanity with pleasant lies to-night." He gave a +little gesture of self-scorn as he rose to throw some dry sticks on the +fire. "What I mean and what you mean is that--that I'm an arrant +coward." Roy gulped the last words out as if they burned his throat. + +"I don't mean that at all," she flamed. "How can you say such a thing +about yourself when everybody knows that you're the bravest man in +Washington County?" + +"No--no. I'm a born trembler." From where he stood beyond the fire he +looked across at her with dumb anguish in his eyes. "You say yourself +you've noticed it. Probably everybody that knows me has." + +"I didn't say that." Her dark eyes challenged his very steadily. +"What I said was that you have too much imagination to rush into danger +recklessly. You picture it all out vividly beforehand and it worries +you. Isn't that the way of it?" + +He nodded, ashamed. + +"But when the time comes, nobody could be braver than you," she went +on. "You've been tried out a dozen times in the last three months. +You have always made good." + +"Made good! If you only knew!" he answered bitterly. + +"Knew what? I saw you down at Hart's when Dan Meldrum ordered you to +kneel and beg. But you gamed it out, though you knew he meant to kill +you." + +He flushed beneath the tan. "I was too paralyzed to move. That's the +simple truth." + +"Were you too paralyzed to move down at the arcade of the Silver +Dollar?" she flashed at him. + +"It was the drink in me. I wasn't used to it and it went to my head." + +"Had you been drinking that time at the depot?" she asked with a touch +of friendly irony. + +"That wasn't courage. If it would have saved me, I would have run like +a rabbit. But there was no chance. The only hope I had was to throw a +fear into him. But all the time I was sick with terror." + +She rose and walked round the camp-fire to him. Her eyes were shining +with a warm light of admiration. Both hands went out to him +impulsively. + +"My friend, that is the only kind of courage really worth having. That +kind you earn. It is yours because it is born of the spirit. You have +fought for it against the weakness of the flesh and the timidity of +your own soul. Some men are born without sense or imagination. They +don't know enough to be afraid. But the man who tramples down a great +fear wins his courage by earning it." She laughed a little, to make +light of her own enthusiasm. "Oh, I know I'm preaching like a little +prig. But it's the truth, just the same." + +At the touch of her fingers his pulses throbbed. But once more he +tried to make her understand. + +"No, I've had luck all the way through. Do you remember that night at +the cabin--before we went up the canon?" + +"Yes." + +"Some one shot at me as I ran into the cabin. I was so frightened that +I piled all the furniture against the door and hid in the cellar. It +was always that way with me. I used to jump if anybody rode up +unexpectedly at the ranch. Every little thing set my nerves +fluttering." + +"But it isn't so now." + +"No, not so much." + +"That's what I'm telling you," she triumphed. "You came out here from +a soft life in town. But you've grown tough because you set your teeth +to go through no matter what the cost. I wish I could show you how +much I . . . admire you. Dad feels that way, too. So does Ned." + +"But I don't deserve it. That's what humiliates me." + +"Don't you?" She poured out her passionate protest. "Do you think I +don't know what happened back there at the prospect hole? Do you think +I don't know that you put Dan Meldrum down in the pit--and him with a +gun in his hand? Was it a coward that did that?" + +"So you knew that all the time," he cried. + +"I heard him calling you--and I went close. Yes, I knew it. But you +would never have told me because it might seem like bragging." + +"It was easy enough. I wasn't thinking of myself, but of you. He saw +I meant business and he wilted." + +"You were thinking about me--and you forgot to be afraid," the girl +exulted. + +"Yes, that was it." A wave of happiness broke over his heart as the +sunlight does across a valley at dawn. "I'm always thinking of you. +Day and night you fill my thoughts, hillgirl. When I'm riding the +range--whatever I do--you're with me all the time." + +"Yes." + +Her lips were slightly parted, eyes eager and hungry. The heart of the +girl drank in his words as the thirsty roots of a rosebush do water. +She took a long deep breath and began to tremble. + +"I think of you as the daughter of the sun and the wind. Some day you +will be the mother of heroes, the wife of a man--" + +"Yes," she prompted again, and the face lifted to his was flushed with +innocent passion. + +The shy invitation of her dark-lashed eyes was not to be denied. He +flung away discretion and snatched her into his arms. An inarticulate +little sound welled up from her throat, and with a gesture wholly +savage and feminine her firm arms crept about his neck and fastened +there. + + + + +Chapter XXVI + +The Sins of the Fathers + +They spoke at first only in that lovers' Esperanto which is made up of +fond kisses and low murmurs and soft caresses. From these Beulah was +the first to emerge. + +"Would you marry a girl off the range?" she whispered. "Would you dare +take her home to your people?" + +"I haven't any people. There are none of them left but me." + +"To your friends, then?" + +"My friends will be proud as punch. They'll wonder how I ever +hypnotized you into caring for me." + +"But I'm only a hillgirl," she protested. "Are you sure you won't be +ashamed of me, dear?" + +"Certain sure. I'm a very sensible chap at bottom, and I know when I +have the best there is." + +"Ah, you think that now because--" + +"Because of my golden luck in winning the most wonderful girl I ever +met." In the fling of the fire glow he made a discovery and kissed it. +"I didn't know before that you had dimples." + +"There are lots of things you don't know about me. Some of them you +won't like. But if you love me, perhaps you'll forgive them, and +then--because I love you--maybe I'll grow out of them. I feel to-night +as if anything were possible. The most wonderful thing that ever +happened to me has come into my life." + +"My heart is saying that, too, sweetheart." + +"I love to hear you say that I'm--nice," she confided. "Because, you +know, lots of people don't think so. The best people in Battle Butte +won't have anything to do with me. I'm one of the Rutherford gang." + +The light was full on his face, so that she saw the dawning horror in +his eyes. + +"What is it? What are you thinking?" she cried. + +He gave a little groan and his hands fell slackly from her. "I'd +forgotten." The words came in a whisper, as if he spoke to himself +rather than to her. + +"Forgotten what?" she echoed; and like a flash added: "That I'm a +Rutherford. Is that what you mean?" + +"That you are the daughter of Hal Rutherford and that I'm the son of +John Beaudry." + +"You mean that you would be ashamed to marry a Rutherford," she said, +her face white in the fire glow. + +"No." He brushed her challenge aside and went straight to what was in +his mind. "I'm thinking of what happened seventeen years ago," he +answered miserably. + +"What did happen that could come between you and me to-night?" + +"Have you forgotten, too?" He turned to the fire with a deep breath +that was half a sob. + +"What is it? Tell me," she demanded. + +"Your father killed mine at Battle Butte." + +A shiver ran through her lithe, straight body. "No . . . No! Say it +isn't true, Roy." + +"It's true. I was there . . . Didn't they ever tell you about it?" + +"I've heard about the fight when Sheriff Beaudry was killed. Jess +Tighe had his spine injured in it. But I never knew that dad . . . +You're sure of it?" she flung at him. + +"Yes. He led the attackers. I suppose he thought of it as a feud. My +father had killed one of his people in a gun fight." + +She, too, looked into the fire. It was a long time before she spoke, +and then in a small, lifeless voice. "I suppose you . . . hate me." + +"Hate you!" His voice shook with agitation. "That would make +everything easy. But--there is no other woman in the world for me but +you." + +Almost savagely she turned toward him. "Do you mean that?" + +"I never mean anything so much." + +"Then what does it matter about our fathers? We have our own lives to +live. If we've found happiness we've a right to it. What happened +seventeen years ago can't touch us--not unless we let it." + +White-lipped, drear-eyed, Roy faced her hopelessly. "I never thought +of it before, but it is true what the Bible says about the sins of the +fathers. How can I shake hands in friendship with the man who killed +mine? Would it be loyal or decent to go into his family and make him +my father by marrying his daughter?" + +Beulah stood close to him, her eyes burning into his. She was ready to +fight for her love to a finish. "Do you think I'm going to give you up +now . . . now . . . just when we've found out how much we care . . . +because of any reason under heaven outside ourselves? _By God_, no! +That's a solemn oath, Roy Beaudry. I'll not let you go." + +He did not argue with her. Instead, he began to tell her of his father +and his mother. As well as he could remember it he related to her the +story of that last ride he had taken with John Beaudry. The girl found +herself visioning the pathetic tenderness of the father singing the +"li'l'-ole-hawss" song under the stars of their night camp. There +flashed to her a picture of him making his stand in the stable against +the flood of enemies pouring toward him. + +When Roy had finished, she spoke softly. "I'm glad you told me. I +know now the kind of man your father was. He loved you more than his +own life. He was brave and generous and kind. Do you think he would +have nursed a grudge for seventeen years? Do you think he would have +asked you to give up your happiness to carry on a feud that ought never +to have been?" + +"No, but--" + +"You are going to marry me, not Hal Rutherford. He is a good man now, +however wild he may have been once. But you needn't believe that just +because I say so. Wait and see. Be to him just as much or as little +as you like. He'll understand, and so shall I. My people are proud. +They won't ask more of you than you care to give. All they'll ask is +that you love me--and that's all I ask, dear." + +"All you ask now, but later you will be unhappy because there is a gulf +between your father and me. You will try to hide it, but I'll know." + +"I'll have to take my chance of that," she told him. "I don't suppose +that life even with the man you love is all happiness. But it is what +I want. It's what I'm not going to let your scruples rob me of." + +She spoke with a low-voiced, passionate intensity. The hillgirl was +fighting to hold her lover as a creature of the woods does to protect +its young. So long as she was sure that he loved her, nothing on earth +should come between them. For the moment she was absorbed by the +primitive idea that he belonged to her and she to him. All the vital +young strength in her rose to repel separation. + +Roy, yearning to take into his arms this dusky, brown-cheeked +sweetheart of his, became aware that he did not want her to let his +arguments persuade her. The fierce, tender egoism of her love filled +him with exultant pride. + +He snatched her to him and held her tight while his lips found her hot +cheeks, her eager eyes, her more than willing mouth. + + + + +Chapter XXVII + +The Quicksands + +Beulah was too perfect of body, too sound of health, not to revel in +such a dawn as swept across the flats next morning. The sun caressed +her throat, her bare head, the uplifted face. As the tender light of +daybreak was in the hills, so there was a lilt in her heart that found +expression in her voice, her buoyant footsteps, and the shine of her +eyes. She had slept soundly in Beaudry's blankets while he had lain +down in his slicker on the other side of the fire. Already she was +quite herself again. The hours of agony in the pit were obliterated. +Life was a wholly joyous and beautiful adventure. + +She turned back to the camp where Roy was making coffee. + +"Am I not to do any of the work?" + +At the sound of that deep, sweet voice with its hint of a drawl the +young man looked up and smiled. "Not a bit. All you have to do is to +drink my coffee and say I'm the best cook you know." + +After they had drunk the coffee and finished the sandwiches, Roy +saddled. + +"They're probably over to the left. Don't you think so?" Beaudry +suggested. + +"Yes." + +There drifted to them the sound of two shots fired in rapid succession. + +Roy fired twice in answer. They moved in the direction of the +shooting. Again the breeze brought revolver shots. This time there +were three of them. + +Beaudry bad an odd feeling that this was a call for help from somebody +in difficulties. He quickened their pace. The nature of the ground, a +good deal of which was deep sand, made fast travel impossible. + +"Look!" Beulah pointed forward and to the right. + +At the same moment there came a shout. "Help! I'm in the quicksands." + +They made out the figure of a man buried to his waist in the dry wash +of a creek. A horse stood on the farther bank of the wash. Roy +deflected toward the man, Beulah at his heels. + +"He must be caught in Dead Man's Sink," the girl explained. "I've +never seen it, but I know it is somewhere near here. All my life I've +heard of it. Two Norwegians were caught here five years ago. Before +help reached them, they were lost." + +"Get me a rope--quick," the man in the sand called. + +"Why, it's Brad," cried Beulah. + +"Yep. Saw the smoke of yore fire and got caught trying to reach you. +Can't make it alone. Thought I sure was a goner. You'll have to +hurry." + +Already Roy was taking the riata from its place below the saddle-horn. +From the edge of the wash he made a cast toward the man in the +quicksands. The loop fell short. + +"You'll have to get into the bed of the stream," suggested Beulah. + +Beaudry moved across the sand a few steps and tried again. The +distance was still too great. + +Already he was beginning to bog down. The soles of his shoes +disappeared in the treacherous sand. When he moved it seemed to him +that some monster was sucking at him from below. As he dragged his +feet from the sand the sunken tracks filled with mud. He felt the +quiver of the river-bed trembling at his weight. + +Roy turned to Beulah, the old familiar cold chill traveling up his +spine to the roots of his hair. "It won't bear me up. I'm going +down," he quavered. + +"Let me go, then. I'm lighter," she said eagerly. + +She made the proposal in all good faith, with no thought of reflecting +on his courage, but it stung her lover like a slap in the face. + +"Hurry with that rope!" Charlton sang across. "I'm sinking fast." + +"Is there any way for Miss Rutherford to get over to your horse?" asked +Roy quickly. + +"She can cross the wash two hundred yards below here. It's perfectly +safe." + +As Roy plunged forward, he gave Beulah orders without turning his head. +"You hear, dear. Run down and get across. But go over very carefully. +If you come to a bad place, go back at once. When you get over tie +Charlton's rope to his saddle-horn and throw him the looped end. The +horse will drag him out." + +The young woman was off on the run before he had half finished. + +Once more Roy coiled and threw the rope. Charlton caught the loop, +slipped it over his head, and tightened it under his arms. + +"All right. Pull!" he ordered. + +Beaudry had no footing to brace himself. Already he was ankle-deep in +the quicksand. It flashed across his mind that he could not fight his +own way out without abandoning Charlton. For one panicky moment he was +mad to get back to solid ground himself. The next he was tugging with +all the strength of his arms at the rope. + +"Keep on the job!" encouraged Charlton. "You're pulling my body over a +little so that the weight is on new sand. If Beulah gets here in time, +I'll make it." + +Roy pulled till his muscles ached. His own feet were sliding slowly +from under him. The water-bubbles that oozed out of the sand were now +almost at his high boot-tops. It was too late to think of retreat. He +must go through whether he wanted to or not. + +He cast one look down the dry river-bed. Beulah was just picking her +way across. She might get over in time to save Charlton, but before +they made it back across to him, he would be lost. + +He wanted to scream aloud to her his urgent need, to beg her, for +Heaven's sake, to hurry. The futility of it he knew. She was already +running with the knowledge to wing her feet that a man's life hung in +the balance. Besides, Charlton was not shrieking his fears out. He +was calling cheerful words of hope across the quaking morass of sand +that separated them. There was no use in making a gibbering idiot of +one's self. Beaudry clenched his jaws tight on the cries that rose +like a thermometer of terror in his throat. + +With every ounce of strength that was in him he fought, meanwhile, for +the life of the man at the other end of the rope. Before Beulah +reached Charlton, Roy was in deeper than his knees. He shut his eyes +and pulled like a machine. It seemed an eternity before Charlton +called to him to let go the rope. + +A new phase of his danger seared like a flame across the brain of +Beaudry. He had dragged himself from a perpendicular position. As +soon as he let loose of the rope he would begin to sink forward. This +would reduce materially the time before his face would sink into the +sand. + +Why not hang on and let the horse drag him out, too? He had as much +right to live as Charlton. Was there any law of justice that forced +him to throw away the rope that was his only hope? + +But he knew the tough little cowpony could not drag two heavy men from +the quicksands at the same time. If he held tight, Charlton, too, +would be sacrificed. His fingers opened. + +Roy watched the struggle on the opposite side of the wash. Charlton +was in almost to his arm-pits. The horse braced its feet and pulled. +Beulah, astride the saddle, urged it to the task again and again. At +first by imperceptible gains, then inch by inch, the man was dragged +from the mire that fought with a thousand clinging tentacles for its +prey. + +Not till Charlton was safe on the bank did Beulah realize the peril of +Beaudry. One glance across the river showed her that he was sliding +face downward to a shifting grave. With an anguished little cry she +released the rope from Charlton's body, flung herself to the saddle +again, and dashed down the bank of the creek. + +Roy lost count of time. His face was sliding down toward the sand. +Soon his mouth and nostrils would be stopped. He believed that it was +a question of minutes with him. + +Came the swift pounding of hoofs and Beulah's clear, ringing voice. + +"Hold your hands straight out, Roy." + +His back was toward her, so that he did not see what she meant to do. +But he obeyed blindly. With a wrench first one hand and then the other +came free from the sand and wavered into the air heavily. A rope sang, +dropped over his arms and head, tightened with a jerk around his waist. + +Two monsters seemed to be trying to tear him in two. A savage wrench +of pain went through him jaggedly. At short intervals this was +repeated. + +In spite of the suction of the muddy sand he felt its clutch giving +way. It loosened a little here, a little there. His body began to +move. After a long tug he came out at last with a rush. But he left +his high cowpuncher's boots behind. They remained buried out of sight +in the sand. He had literally been dragged out of them. + +Roy felt himself pulled shoreward. From across the quicksands came +Charlton's whoop of triumph. Presently Beulah was stooping over him +with tender little cries of woe and joy. + +He looked at her with a wan, tired smile. "I didn't think you'd make +it in time." In a moment he added: "I was horribly afraid. God, it +was awful!" + +"Of course. Who wouldn't have been?" She dismissed his confession as +of no importance. "But it's all over now. I want to hug you tight to +make sure you're here, boy." + +"There's no law against it," he said with feeble humor. + +"No, but--" With a queer little laugh she glanced across the river +toward her former lover. "I don't think I had better." + +Charlton joined them a few minutes later. He went straight to Roy and +offered his hand. + +"The feud stuff is off, Mr. Beaudry. Beulah will tell you that I +started in to make you trouble. Well, there's nothing doing in that +line. I can't fight the man who saved my life at the risk of his own." + +"Oh, well!" Roy blushed. "I just threw you a rope." + +"You bogged down some," Charlton returned dryly. "I've known men who +would have thought several times before throwing that rope from where +you did. They would have hated to lose their boots." + +Beulah's eyes shone. "Oh, Brad, I'm so glad. I do want you two to be +friends." + +"Do you?" As he looked at her, the eyes of the young hillman softened. +He guessed pretty accurately the state of her feelings. Beaudry had +won and he had lost. Well, he was going to be a good loser this time. +"What you want goes with me this time, Boots. The way you yanked me +out of the sinks was painful, but thorough. I'll be a friend to Mr. +Beaudry if he is of the same opinion as you. And I'll dance at his +wedding when it comes off." + +She cried out at that, but Charlton noticed that she made no denial. +Neither did Roy. He confined his remarks to the previous question, and +said that he would be very glad of Charlton's friendship. + +"Good enough. Then I reckon we better light out for camp with the glad +news that Beulah has been found. You can tell me all about it on the +way," the hillman suggested. + +Beulah dropped from her horse ten minutes later into the arms of Ned +Rutherford. Quite unexpectedly to himself, that young man found +himself filled with emotion. He caught his sister in his arms and held +her as if he never intended to let the sobbing girl go. His own voice +was not at all steady. + +"Boots--Boots . . . Honey-bug . . . Where you-all been?" he asked, +choking up suddenly. + + + + +Chapter XXVIII + +Pat Ryan Evens an Old Score + +Dingwell, the coffee-pot in one hand and a tin cup in the other, hailed +his partner cheerfully. "Come over here, son, and tell me who you +traded yore boots to." + +"You and Brad been taking a mud bath, Mr. Beaudry?" asked one of the +Lazy Double D riders. + +Roy told them, with reservations, the story of the past twenty-four +hours. Dave listened, an indifferent manner covering a quick interest. +His young friend had done for himself a good stroke of business. There +could no longer be any question of the attitude of the Rutherfords +toward him, since he had been of so great service to Beulah. Charlton +had renounced his enmity, the ground cut from beneath his feet. Word +had reached camp only an hour before of the death of Tighe. This left +of Beaudry's foes only Hart, who did not really count, and Dan Meldrum, +at the present moment facing starvation in a prospect hole. On the +whole, it had been a surprisingly good twenty-four hours for Roy. His +partner saw this, though he did not know the best thing Roy had won out +of it. + +"Listens fine," the old-timer commented when the young man had finished. + +"Can you rustle me a pair of boots from one of the boys, Dave? Size +number eight. I've got to run back up Del Oro to-day." + +"Better let me go, son," Dave proposed casually. + +"No. It's my job to turn the fellow loose." + +"Well, see he doesn't get the drop on you. I wouldn't trust him far as +I could throw a bull by the tail." + +Dingwell departed to borrow the boots and young Rutherford came over to +Beaudry. Out of the corner of his eye Roy observed that Beulah was +talking with the little Irish puncher, Pat Ryan. + +Rutherford plunged awkwardly into his thanks. His sister had made only +a partial confidant of him, but he knew that she was under obligations +to Beaudry for the rescue from Meldrum. The girl had not dared tell +her brother that the outlaw was still within his reach. She knew how +impulsively his anger would move to swift action. + +"We Rutherfords ain't liable to forget this, Mr. Beaudry. Dad has been +'most crazy since Boots disappeared. He'll sure want to thank you +himself soon as he gets a chance," blurted Ned. + +"I happened to be the lucky one to find her; that's all," Roy +depreciated. + +"Sure. I understand. But you did find her. That's the point. Dad +won't rest easy till he's seen you. I'm going to take sis right home +with me. Can't you come along?" + +Roy wished he could, but it happened that he had other fish to fry. He +shook his head reluctantly. + +Dingwell returned with a pair of high-heeled cowpuncher's boots. "Try +these on, son. They belong to Dusty. The lazy hobo wasn't up yet. If +they fit you, he'll ride back to the ranch in his socks." + +After stamping about in the boots to test them, Roy decided that they +would do. "They fit like a coat of paint," he said. + +"Say, son, I'm going to hit the trail with you on that little jaunt you +mentioned," his partner announced definitely. + +Roy was glad. He had of late been fed to repletion with adventure. He +did not want any more, and with Dingwell along he was not likely to +meet it. Already he had observed that adventures generally do not come +to the adventurous, but to the ignorant and the incompetent. Dave +moved with a smiling confidence along rough trails that would have +worried his inexperienced partner. To the old-timer these difficulties +were not dangers at all, because he knew how to meet them easily. + +They rode up Del Oro by the same route Roy and Beulah had followed the +previous night. Before noon they were close to the prospect hole where +Roy had left the rustler. The sound of voices brought them up in their +tracks. + +They listened. A whine was in one voice; in the other was crisp +command. + +"Looks like some one done beat us to it," drawled Dingwell. "We'll +move on and see what's doing." + +They topped the brow of a hill. + +A bow-legged little man with his back to them was facing Dan Meldrum. + +"I'm going along with yez as far as the border. You'll keep moving +lively till ye hit the hacienda of old Porf. Diaz. And you'll stay +there. Mind that now, Dan. Don't--" + +The ex-convict broke in with the howl of a trapped wolf. "You've lied +to me. You brought yore friends to kill me." + +The six-gun of the bad man blazed once--twice. In answer the revolver +of the bandy-legged puncher barked out, fired from the hip. Meldrum +staggered, stumbled, pitched forward into the pit. The man who had +killed him walked slowly forward to the edge and looked down. He stood +poised for another shot if one should prove necessary. + +Dave joined him. + +"He's dead as a stuck shote, Pat," the cattleman said gravely. + +Ryan nodded. "You saw he fired first, Dave." + +"Yes." After a moment he added: "You've saved the hangman a job, Pat. +I don't know anybody Washington County could spare better. There'll be +no complaint, I reckon." + +The little Irishman shook his head. "That would go fine if you had +shot him, Dave, or if Mr. Beaudry here had. But with me it's +different. I've been sivinteen years living down a reputation as a +hellion. This ain't going to do me any good. Folks will say it was a +case of one bad man wiping out another. They'll say I've gone back to +being a gunman. I'll be in bad sure as taxes." + +Dingwell looked at him, an idea dawning in his mind. Why not keep from +the public the name of the man who had shot Meldrum? The position of +the wound and the revolver clenched in the dead man's hand would show +he had come to his end in fair fight. The three of them might sign a +statement to the effect that one of them had killed the fellow in open +battle. The doubt as to which one would stimulate general interest. +No doubt the gossips would settle on Beaudry as the one who had done +it. This would still further enhance his reputation as a good man with +whom not to pick trouble. + +"Suits me if it does Roy," the cattleman said, speaking his thoughts +aloud. "How about it, son? Pat is right. This will hurt him, but it +wouldn't hurt you or me a bit. Say the word and all three of us will +refuse to tell which one shot Meldrum." + +"I'm willing," Roy agreed. "And I've been looking up ancient history, +Mr. Ryan. I don't think you were as bad as you painted yourself to me +once. I'm ready to shake hands with you whenever you like." + +The little Irishman flushed. He shook hands with shining eyes. + +"That's why I was tickled when Miss Beulah asked me to come up and turn +loose that coyote. It's a God's truth that I hoped he'd fight. I +wanted to do you a good bit of wolf-killing if I could. And I've done +it . . . and I'm not sorry. He had it coming if iver a man had." + +"Did you say that Beulah Rutherford sent you up here?" asked Roy. + +"She asked me to come. Yis." + +"Why?" + +"I can only guess her reasons. She didn't want you to come and she +couldn't ask Ned for fear he would gun the fellow. So she just picked +on a red-headed runt of an Irishman." + +"While we're so close, let's ride across to Huerfano Park," suggested +Dave. "I haven't been there in twenty years." + +That suited Roy exactly. As they rode across the hills his mind was +full of Beulah. She had sent Ryan up so that he could get Meldrum away +before her lover arrived. Was it because she was afraid Roy might show +the white feather? Or was it because she feared for his safety? He +wished he knew. + + + + +Chapter XXIX + +A New Leaf + +Hal Rutherford himself met the three riders as they drew up at the +horse ranch. He asked no verbal questions, but his eyes ranged +curiously from one to another. + +"'Light, gentlemen. I been wanting to see you especially, Mr. +Beaudry," he said. + +"I reckon you know where we've been, Hal," answered Dave after he had +dismounted. + +"I reckon." + +"We got a little news for public circulation. You can pass the word +among the boys. Dan Meldrum was shot three hours ago beside the pit +where Miss Beulah was imprisoned. His body is in the prospect hole +now. You might send some lads with spades to bury him." + +"One of you shot him." + +"You done guessed it, Hal. One of us helped him out of that pit +intending to see he hit the dust to Mexico. Dan was loaded to the +guards with suspicions. He chose to make it a gun-play. Fired twice. +The one of us that took him out of the pit fired back and dropped him +first crack. All of us saw the affair. It happened just as I've told +you." + +"But which of you--?" + +"That's the only point we can't remember. It was one of us, but we've +forgotten which one." + +"Suits me if it does you. I'll thank all three of you, then." +Rutherford cleared his throat and plunged on. "Boys, to-day kinder +makes an epoch in Huerfano Park. Jess Tighe died yesterday and Dan +Meldrum to-day. They were both bad citizens. There were others of us +that were bad citizens, too. Well, it's right-about face for us. We +travel broad trails from now on. Right now the park starts in to make +a new record for itself." + +Dave offered his hand, and with it went the warm smile that made him +the most popular man in Washington County. "Listens fine, Hal. I sure +am glad to hear you say so." + +"I niver had any kick against the Rutherfords. They were open and +aboveboard, anyhow, in all their diviltry," contributed Ryan to the +pact of peace. + +Nobody looked at Roy, but he felt the weight of their thoughts. All +four of them bore in mind the death of John Beaudry. His son spoke +quietly. + +"Mr. Rutherford, I've been thinking of my father a good deal these last +few days. I want to do as he would have me do about this thing. I'm +not going to chop my words. He gave his life to bring law and order +into this country, The men who killed him were guilty of murder. +That's an ugly word, but it's the true one." + +The grim face of the big hillman did not twitch. "I'll take the word +from you. Go on." + +"But I've been thinking more and more that he would want me to forget +that. Tighe and Meldrum are gone. Sheriff Beaudry worked for the good +of the community. That is all he asked. It is for the best interest +of Washington County that we bury the past. If you say so, I'll shake +hands on that and we'll all face to the future. Just as you say." + +Dingwell grinned. "Hooray! Big Chief Dave will now make oration. +You've got the right idea, son. I knew Jack Beaudry. There wasn't an +atom of revenge in his game body. His advice would have been to shake +hands. That's mine, too." + +The hillman and Roy followed it. + +Upon the porch a young woman appeared. + +"I've written those letters for you, dad," she called. + +Roy deserted the peace conference at once and joined her. + +"Oh! I didn't know it was you," she cried. "I'm so glad you came this +way. Was it . . . all right?" + +"Right as the wheat. Why did you send Pat up Del Oro?" + +She looked at him with eyes incredibly kind and shy. "Because I . . . +didn't want to run any chance of losing my new beau." + +"Are you sure that was your only reason?" + +"Certain sure. I didn't trust Meldrum, and . . . I thought you had +taken chances enough with him. So I gave Mr. Ryan an opportunity." + +"He took it," her lover answered gravely. + +She glanced at him quickly. "You mean--?" + +"Never mind what I mean now. We've more important things to talk +about. I haven't seen you for eight hours, and thirty-three minutes." + +Rutherford turned his guests over to Ned, who led the way to the +stable. The ranchman joined the lovers. He put an arm around Beulah. + +"Boots has done told me about you two, Mr. Beaudry. I'm eternally +grateful to you for bringing back my little girl to me, and if you all +feel right sure you care for each other I've got nothing to say but +'God bless you.' You're a white man. You're decent. I believe you'll +be kind to her." + +"I'm going to try to the best I know, Mr. Rutherford." + +"You'd better, young man." The big rancher swallowed a lump in his +throat and passed to another phase of the subject. "Boots was telling +me about how it kinder stuck in yore craw to marry the daughter of Hal +Rutherford, seeing as how things happened the way they did. Well, I'm +going to relieve yore mind. She's the one that has got the forgiving +to do, not you. She knew it all the time, too, but she didn't tell it. +Beulah is the daughter of my brother Anse. I took her from the arms of +her dying mother when she was a little trick that couldn't crawl. +She's not the daughter of the man that shot yore father. She's the +daughter of the man yore father shot." + +"Oh!" gasped Roy. + +Beulah went to her lover arrow-swift. + +"My dear . . . my dear! What does it matter now? Dad says my father +was killed in fair fight. He had set himself against the law. It took +his life. Your father didn't." + +"But--" + +"Oh, his was the hand. But he was sheriff. He did only his duty. +That's true, isn't it, dad?" + +"I reckon." + +Her strong young hands gripped tightly those of her lover. She looked +proudly into his eyes with that little flare of feminine ferocity in +hers. + +"I won't have it any other way, Roy Beaudry. You're the man I'm going +to marry, the man who is going to be the father of my children if God +gives me any. No blood stands between us--nothing but the memory of +brave men who misunderstood each other and were hurt because of it. +Our marriage puts an end forever to even the memory of the wrong they +did each other. That is the way it is to me--and that's the way it has +got to be to you, too." + +Roy laughed softly, tears in his eyes. As he looked at her eager young +beauty the hot life in his pulses throbbed. He snatched her to him +with an ardor as savage as her own. + + + + +THE END + +OF THE BEGINNING + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHERIFF'S SON*** + + +******* This file should be named 17043.txt or 17043.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/4/17043 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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